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Crime Waves

Once Was Enough

By Gregory Dolan DiesPublished 3 years ago 7 min read
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Off to the islands

Crime Waves

In a down economy the duo watched as their fathers struggled to feed their families, money was tight and they always thought there had to be a better way. “Fuck me running T, if it wasn’t for bad luck we wouldn’t have any luck at all”. Dolan was red faced and visibly upset, nothing the two of them had planned had gone accordingly and the last thing he wanted was to spend time in the hoosegow.

“Well shit dude”, it was T speaking and he was concerned as well, “at least you have friends there”.

“Funny numb nuts, but they’re your friends too”, T was laughing at Dolans’ response.

Everything they had so cautiously planned had went awry, from the guns they street bought that didn’t shoot straight, to the pot dispensary they had cased having extra security the night they robbed it to the plane they stole not running right.

“Damn engine is shot”, muttered Dolan, “I’m going to have to drop her in the drink”, that particular drink was the Pacific Ocean just outside Baja, California, close to their destination at Clarion Island and T being an experienced sailor had called down and ordered a sailboat. Yet the engine trouble could end their crime spree quickly.

“Those are shark infested water Dolan, anyway we can make it to Roco Partida?” That island was at least ten miles closer so so Dolan thought maybe, just maybe, and headed towards the unknown. The engine in the Cessna was sounding rough, spitting and sputtering but they had hope.

Dolan had worked for about eight months at the San Diego Airport and had maybe fifty hours of solo time as a pilot, and the Cessna he was flying hadn’t been touched in years, stealing the keys would be easy. The fact Roco Partida didn’t offer a landing strip would prove difficult for an experienced pilot and as they neared the island they saw the fishing community on the west side, but no place to land. The east side was a jungle and as they approached the engine went dead, they had no choice but to land now. Dolan saw a whaet field and headed that direction, it would be a rough landing, but just maybe, the plane touched down then began hopping, skipping and flopping like a fish, the left wing blew off and they tumbled to a stop. A few bumps and bruises and they were okay, but they still had to lug two duffle bags full of cash to the other side of the island, through a rough, mountain side jungle.

They put their .22 pistols in their belts and headed out, not really knowing the way, but heading in the right direction. The trek was arduous at best and they struggled through the darkness but arrived unscathed at the harbor town. T rented a twenty foot sailboat that he overpaid for, but they had no intention of bringing it back. They had thought when they robbed the dispensary they would net about fifty thousand, but the manager hadn’t taken the last weeks receipts in, and they grossed over two hundred and fifty thousand, without firing a shot.

T gave the harbor master, if you could call him that, fake licenses and passports to copy, so the authorities could have fun chasing down Parker Dillon and Sammy Dawson, good luck the boys thought. The night of the robbery they had worn masks, dark shades, ball caps and gloves, and still wore only the gloves, the rest they had thrown out the plane side window on their way south. They locked the four guards, the manager and assistant manager in the timed vault and had taken away their cell phones. The dispensary was open the next morning at eleven, so besides fear, none would suffer. Their plan was to sail to Cancun and catch a flight to Belize, liberal banking laws, English speaking and a lot less expensive as their days in San Diego.

The seas were difficult, but they were making good time, at least until Dolan spotted something off the port side. He pointed it out to T but even with binoculars T couldn’t make it out. They were still about five hours out of Cancun, if the weather held, but the skies pointed to a nasty storm approaching. The boat on the horizon was visible now, at least through the binoculars and T made it out as a double hulled sailboat, with about three times as much sail as the boys had. If they were pirates, police or the Mexican Mafia they would have to hit the beach running.

Eventually the skies let loose and it poured as they beached the sailboat on a deserted part of the sand. They saw the double hulled boat come in as they were unloading, literally minutes behind them, but as T spotted them with the glass with the glasses, it was just a family off on a probable vacation, but it both gave them pause.

“What if we called Danny and asked him if there was any news, he’d know?” T was asking a question but had already decided he was going to do it.

“About our adventure at the pot shop?” answered Dolan, “Sure, why not”.

They toted the bags up the cliffs and found a motel with an open room, it was a bit seedy, but had two beds and a shower. It would give them time to rest and unravel. T hustled downstairs to a phone booth and called Danny collect. When he returned to the room he was all smiles and Dolan was sitting on the bed. “Not a word Dolan, nada, zilch, nothing. Danny was in there yesterday getting his weekly supply and it was business as usual, no cops, no extra security, nothing”.

Dolan looked at him with reprehension, “are you sure?”

“Danny wouldn’t lie to us”.

Dolan thought on that for a second and he knew T was right. “So are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

T looked at Dolan sheepishly, with a plea on his face. Maybe all the scares had been a warning, maybe the crime business wasn’t their ballyhoo after all. “What if we secretly returned the money, no harm, no foul, right?”

“Do you think they’ll try to run us down?” Dolan asked his partner in crime.

“Nah, I think this has happened to them before, and being a cash-only business, they’re probably used to such losses”.

“So after all this shit, the plane, the boat, the robbery, we just return the money and go back on living as if it never happened?”

T thought again and scratched his dome, “no one ever knew you had those keys did they?”

“I’ve had them for months, I doubt that” was Dolans’ answer.

This was all true but they had spent a bit of the money, but the figured if the dispensary got any of it back, they’d be thrilled.

“How we going to get back home, wise guy?” Dolan quizzed T.

“If we can get a ride to Tijuana Danny could pick up us in his plumbing truck, we’d look like we did some work down here, that shouldn’t raise any questions”, T was thinking ahead.

The next morning T spoke candidly with the motel manager and offered him $2500 American to drive them the two days to Tijuana, and he accepted quickly. That was a lot of money for him and the left the following morning pre dawn and took turns driving. Besides stopping for gas, food and pee breaks they made the trip in just less than two days, forty seven hours, the manager was thrilled and T had called Danny and he was waiting at the chosen destination. The boys put the duffle bags under some brass piping, heavy tools and a few bags of cement and no one at the border paid them any attention.

Late that night, Danny brought the duffle bags back and hid them behind the building, in the Dewey dumpster, and made a call from a pay phone telling management where to look. They never heard another word about it. Dead tired from their life of crime, they took enough money to give Danny a few thousand, and pay their rent six months in advance, and went back to school. They both worked part time, but the fear they felt from the boat on the horizon would stay with them for life. T ended up getting his degree in oceanography and Dolan established himself with a pilots’ license and with his college degree started working for American Airlines.

Neither ever stole another dime, they had learned their lesson and were lucky to be alive, they realized luck didn’t come with money, but with being good humans, and they were more than lucky not to of done any time in prison. Granted their dreams were not of their fathers, but not far from them either, but they got a second chance, a chance given to them by the ship on the horizon. Their never did forget how close they were to Belize and yet how far they were from the lives they were meant to lead.

Teenage years
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About the Creator

Gregory Dolan Dies

I’ve been around the block a time or two but due to a bad left hip I never get far, I just keep walking in circles. I’m an old rusty merry-go-round that will leave you cut and in stitches.

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