Jewel of Despair

Jewel of Despair

Jason Truman was reevaluating his life after closing the door to the restaurant, Sunny Side Diner. “Man, I’ve been working like a dog for years... I don’t know how much longer I can go...” He sighed while starring at his beat up car and his meager pay check in hand. Jason drove home just outside the city.

He lived in a small flat on the 7th floor, very basic living. A full size bed with no frame, a dining table with one chair, and a couch and coffee table set. Jason unlocked his door and went inside only to see a letter on the floor with a large print stamp, “EVICTION NOTICE “. “I’m getting evicted? What?! Why?!” As he looked at the letter, he realized how bad his luck is. He went to his freezer and grabbed an old friend, “Mr. Balvenie I need some mental support.” Pouring a glass for himself, neat, he savored his first sip. Then he downed the rest of the glass before refilling his glass once more. He ripped open the eviction notice and began to read.

...

“We have sold the building to Goji Developers LLC who will revitalize the whole block! The demolition of the building is set for November this year. Apartment 717 must be vacant by October....”

…

“My luck is truly something awful. My ex-wife took my business and money, my investment into a new Motorcycle shop went south when my equipment got stolen, and now this!” Jason sat on his couch and thought silently. The light fading from his eyes as despair fully set in, occasionally sipping from his glass.

“Beep, beep, beep”

“Ughh, I don’t want to go back to work...” Was the first thought in Jason’s mind as he reacted to his phone alarm. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling. “Fuck it”

Jason sat up and went to the bathroom. He started to pack his most prized belongings into his Goyard suitcase; a few books, a necklace from his late mother, his nice clothes, monk strap shoes, and his father’s pocket watch. “I don’t know why I keep these things from my past life, I don’t even wear any of these anymore...” but he couldn’t let go of his past, he also couldn’t let go of these items, they were his most important belongings. Then he threw the rest of his clothes into a large duffle bag, and his electronics into his backpack. Leaving everything else, he packed his car and drove into the city once more.

Jason never returned to the Sunny Side Diner, opting to go to his storage unit instead. The sliding door shot upwards as the silhouette of a motorcycle came into view. “Fuck it, I’m going for a ride today. I need to clear my head” Jason thought to himself as he put his belongings into the work table next to his bike. He carefully took off the cover to reveal a shiny new Triumph Thruxton. His first motorcycle looked showroom fresh, but was over a decade and a half old. He took care of it like it was his child.

Zooming at high speed, weaving between slow cars, he arrived at his favorite thinking spot. The setting sun glowed with a red glow that reflected on the huge lake that stretched out to the horizon. He got off his bike and sat down by the shore. Staring blankly, no thoughts came to mind. No regrets reared their ugly faces nor any sign of hope. Only the sound of the water hitting the shore At this moment of zen, a few clothes started to wash up on shore. He noticed nothing, until a suitcase landed on shore right in front of him.

The zen state of mind shattered as Jason jumped up in shock, screaming, “What the fuck?” Then thinking to himself, “Knowing my luck, there’s probably a dead body inside this thing...” However, his curiosity overpowered him and he directly reached out to the suitcase. Holding the suitcase suitcase, he looked left and right and decided to open it. Inside was a bag of cash, all $100s, and a small black book. He saw what was inside and decided to stash the cash in his bike bag and he kept the small black book in his jacket. Being conscious of his bad luck, he threw the suitcase back into the water after wiping his finger prints off, just in case, and rode back to his storage unit.

Inside his unit, he took out the bag of money from his bike, set it on his work table, and just stared at it in shock. “There’s $20,000 in cash here... what about the book?” He reached into his jacket to grab it. It was about the size of his hand and had a blood red jewel embedded in the center of its binding. Staring at the jewel Jason was excited, “maybe my luck is about to turn around!” He opened the book to the first page. There was no writing on it, just an elaborate eye in the center of the page. It blinked.

—crash—

Jason tossed the book in shock as it landed back on his table. “Am I going crazy? Or did that eye just blink?” He opened the book once again and the eye was gone. In it’s place was an intricate and lifelike drawing of the Ouroboros, where you can see each scale. Feeling relieved that the eye was just his imagination he turned the page and saw that this was a diary of some sort.

October 14, 1990

My destiny is in my hands, I choose my own fate. I’ll find a new home and start over, the world is my oyster!

-Jay Gilbert

November 1, 1990

I moved into a new flat, I can’t believe the view and so cheap too! This is the start of my new life! I’m investing my money into a new business of flipping mattresses, everyone needs a bed right? Haha I’ll be rich! I can’t believe how cheap these Chinese beds are, I’ll relabel them as made in America and make triple the money I paid for. These buyers will gobble this stuff up, it’s still cheaper than real made in America products.

-Jay Gilbert

December 1, 1990

I can’t believe it, after a month of working with these buyers I’ve sold half my inventory, time for the next batch, I should also hire security at the warehouse to keep my inventory safe.

-Jay Gilbert

January 1, 1991

There seems to be some competition, I wonder why my orders have fallen by 10%, I’ll rework the packaging to look more high end.

-Jay Gilbert

February 1, 1991

Oh god the money keeps coming in! The new packaging is killing the market hahaha! I rich biatch!

-Jay Gilbert

March 1, 1991

Was I really destined to die broke and alone? I have to change my fate! It’s not possible that I’m going to lose everything...

-Jay Gilbert

April 1, 1991

I regret everything I’ve done, I should’ve switched to a better mattress source, how the hell did my buyers find out it was made in China and not America? I only have security and the immigrants who relabel and pack my products for shipping, they don’t even speak English!

-Jay Gilbert

“Huh, the diary end here? I wonder what happened to this guy. Oh well fuck him, not my problem. But doesn’t it mean that the suitcase was 30 years old? I thought it was a new suitcase that washed up on shore... the cash was also new...”

Disregarding his thoughts Jason tossed the book onto the corner bookshelf of his storage unit and thought about his own next steps, but not before prying the blood red jewel from the binding. “I’m going to add this jewel to my mum’s necklace to replace the diamond I sold from it, this will be a symbol my new life’s start!” Jason thought as he laughed in excitement.

— ring — ring — ring— ring—

“ hey! Johnny! You still have that crashed bike collection at your yard? What’s the stock looking like now?” Jason excitedly spoke to his old acquaintance, his voice almost trembling in excitement.

“You’re still alive huh? But yeah man, I have 3 Ducatis with no front forks, 15 Honda shadows, 10 no engines, 5 no gas tanks, and 5 with no wheels, a Triumph rocket 3, no front end. I also have a bunch of ninjas. Let’s not waste any time here, what do you want and how much cash you got?” Johnny replied lazily, his distrust apparent in his tone.

“Alright! I’ll take 10 Honda shadows with no engines and the 3 Ducati’s. I got 5 grand for you, cash!” Jason spoke rather quickly

“Ummm... I can do the the shadows for that price, but the Ducati’s will be another 6 grand on top.” Johnny lazily replied, seeming to lose interest in the conversation.

“I can’t do that, forget the Ducati’s then, I’ll give you 5 for the shadows, but you need to drop them off at my location, that’s my bottom line.” Jason spoke as he was already texting his sketchy friend who could “find” the equipment he needs.

“Alright, I’m gonna dump them in front of your shitty storage unit, you still have that right?” Johnny questioned Jason.

“Yup, same spot, but at least the unit is big!! I’ll give you the cash upon delivery, when can you get here? Jason replied

“Ok, I’ll see you on Sunday, you know I’m doing you a favor right?” Johnny hung up the phone directly without waiting for a reply

Upon delivery Jason looked at his new stock of potential cafe racers in the making. He had stashed a lot of parts in his storage unit and he knew he had an assortment of engines. Agreeing to pay $10,000 to his “friend” for tools, new materials, parts, and stands Jason was now able to make some classy looking cafe racers. The plan was to sell each one for $6,000 netting him $44,000 after costs. In the meantime Jason steeled his will to live in his storage unit until he could get another apartment. To pacify the security guards, a few hundred dollars was all it took for them to look away.

After a few months of back breaking, hard labor, and solitude went by in his makeshift workshop and his miniature fleet was ready. He already sold seven on Facebook and Instagram. Jason was eyeing his next opportunity.

Jason would search for crashed or abandoned motorcycles, repair, and flip. This was his formula. This went on for a year.

In a penthouse suit overlooking the city, Jason sat in office/living room rubbing his necklace as he spent some time with his new friend, Macallan 25. Laughing to himself he was in disbelief on how he turned his whole situation around. He bought a small garage that he decked out with the newest technology, tools, and equipment after half a year and hired a mechanic and a security guard. Jason was still a bit paranoid since his last shops had been robbed.

—ring—ring—ring—

“Hello? Bobby? It’s been a while how’ve you been?” Jason was pleasantly surprised to hear from his friend.

“Hey Jason! I’ve been well! How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since I procured those equipments you asked for a while ago. Listen. I came into possession of a container full of Ducati’s all brand new. I’d like to offer you this deal first, before I ask dealerships.” Bobby spoke nonchalantly

Jason was silent for a moment before he spoke, “Are they clean? Or do I need to do some work on them?”

“Hey bro! I’m giving you first dibs on these, I can go to a dealership that can make them clean with no worries! Up to you! I have 15 of them” Bobby chortled

Silence... Jason looked out of the window and thought for a moment.

“Hey man, you still there? I’ll cut a deal with you, I’m going to sell them at 11 grand a pop, but for you my friend, I’ll let them go for 7 each. Are you still doing this solo?” Bobby continued after Jason hadn’t replied.

“I can do 6 grand a pop and I’ll take the whole lot! Bring them midnight on Friday, I’ll give you the cash then. Here’s my new shop address...” Jason spoke with some conviction

“ whoa man, you want free delivery? Pay the seven thousand each and I’ll bring them to you, otherwise I’ll sell them to someone else, we’re friends and all, but I still need to eat!” Bobby voice held a bit annoyance in response the the haggling.

“Ok ok ok Bobby, fine. You got yourself a deal.”

Jason worked through the weekend to stamp new VIN numbers on the bikes and “cleaning” their history. He would sell these as a limited run of custom Ducati’s, even though the changes were only cosmetic.

The following Monday, his mechanic came to the shop and was floored by the new collection of brand new Ducati’s! He didn’t understand how they got so many, the lot must have cost over a quarter million!

“Boss! What.. how..uhhh” the mechanic stuttered in shock.

“We’re going to convert these bad boys into stylish cafe racers that’ll be perfect for city riding! Let’s get to work!” Jason spoke with pride and excitement. He did all the dirty work already, the shop started to buzz with noise and sparks.

A few months later, an unexpected call came in to Jason’s office.

“Hello. This is Richard Clarkson of the FBI, I’m contacting all motorcycle shops in the city to ask if you were recently offered a deal on a container of Ducati motorcycles. Any information you provide will be confidential and will help us in our investigation.”

“No, I haven’t been contacted in regards to any Ducati’s. I’m a custom motorcycle shop that primarily builds bikes from scratch or from salvage. Sorry.” Jason deliberately spoke a little slower than normal.

“Alright, thank you for your time, if you have any information please call me back on this number, this is a very serious matter, a lot of lives were lost and we need to bring them justice. Thank you for your time Jason.” Mr. Clarkson responded like he was a robot.

——

“Fuck!!!!! Bobby!!!!! What did you do!!!!!” Jason screamed loudly in his office, veins popping out of his head. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!! Everything I worked for!! It’s all in Jeopardy now... I’ve already sold most of them!!”

A bottle of scotch later...

Jason was sitting at home once again staring at the city view, the light in his eyes fading once more as despair sets in. “Wait... I got it!” Jason suddenly sat up with an epiphany as the light in his eyes returned shining brighter than ever. “I need to leave this country, Australia? New Zealand? England?.... I like the Brits, they appreciate motorcycles quite a bit, it’s decided then! London here I come.” Jason jumped on his MacBook and started researching his move with lightning speed.

The next morning, Jason went to the banks he had accounts with and closed all his accounts. He packed a briefcase with $200,000 cash, his father’s pocket watch and his mother’s necklace. He shipped it to his new address in London, and went to the airport with $9,000 on hand to catch his flight that very night.

—————————

**Breaking News**

A cargo plane crashes into a commercial flight over the Atlantic, rescuers are scrambling to find the wreckage and missing passengers. The commercial plane was en route to London, England.

—————————

**Breaking News**

Both planes have been found. However, the cause of the crash is unknown. Officials are looking for the black boxes aboard each plane. Both pilots of the cargo plane and 199 out of the 200 passengers were found and rescued. The only known death in this tragic accident is a man named, Jason Truman.

—————————

**Breaking News**

After a thorough search for Officials are unable to locate the black boxes and are unable to confirm the cause of the accident.

—————————

In a small cove along the white cliffs of Dover, an aluminum briefcase washes up on shore.