It was a sweltering hot evening, but they always are nowadays. Mason was sitting on the curb, staring off into space and thinking. His fingers idly touched the sidewalk, feeling the rough texture of the asphalt. A single bead of sweat trickled down the nape of his neck under his ponytail, making him shiver.
He was vaguely aware of Caleb in the alley behind him, rummaging through the duffle bag that sat on the cracked leather seat of Mason’s old motorcycle. He seemed to finish whatever he was doing, and Mason heard him walk over and sit down on the curb next to him.
Caleb reached into his shirt pocket, took out a pack of cigarettes, and offered one to Mason. Caleb’s wavy hair was also damp with sweat, sticking to his forehead, and his face was flushed. Mason took the offered cigarette and Caleb lit them both up. They sat and stared at the building in front of them as they smoked. The sun was just starting to set and the orange glow lit up the windows of the highrise in front of them, making it look like the building was on fire.
Mason finished his cigarette, put it out on the pavement, and saw Caleb do the same in his peripheral vision. They were both still tense, and Caleb was doing that nervous tic of his where he spins his family ring around his finger. Over and over. It was an ugly ring, thick and silver, with the Suwanrat family crest engraved on it. Caleb didn’t know why he still had it, still wore it. Sometimes, when he’s really nervous, that band of skin on his ring finger where he wears it becomes red and raw from the constant spinning.
After a moment, Mason broke the silence. “Did you get the guns?”
Caleb nodded and patted the messenger bag he was wearing. “Yeah, I got them. I hope they’re okay, I just grabbed the first ones I saw out of the family’s cabinet.”
“Will they notice they’re missing?”
Caleb laughed and shook his head. “My brother’s away, and he’s the only one who ever uses them. We’ll be fine as long as they’re back within the week.”
Caleb dug through the bag and handed Mason one of the guns. He put the other one in his lap and began to put on and adjust the shoulder holster he’d brought. “They’re loaded, be careful. You remember how I taught you to use it?”
Mason nodded, “I remember.” He examined his gun, then looked at Caleb’s, and laughed. “How come you gave me the smaller one?”
He had given Mason a small semi-automatic pistol. Caleb, however, kept the AR pistol for himself.
“Because I’m the one who’s been going to the shooting range since I was ten, remember?” Caleb rolled his eyes but the fond smile on his face betrayed his true feelings. He finished adjusting the strap on his shoulder and holstered the gun, before putting a jacket on over top of the whole setup. Wearing a jacket in this heat would get suspicious looks, but not as many as a visible firearm.
“You rich people have some weird hobbies.” Mason shook his head. He stopped smiling and became a little more solemn. “Are you ready to do this?”
Caleb smiled again, but this time it was smaller, more reassuring. “It’s not my first time.”
“Thanks for doing all this shit with me. You can still leave, you know, go back to your life of luxury.” Mason affectionately bumped his shoulder against Caleb’s, jostling him a little.
Caleb leaned over and grabbed Mason’s head, pressing their foreheads together gently for a moment. They looked at each other, and both pairs of dark brown eyes were intense as they met.
“You literally ask me that every time. It’s been years, I wouldn’t just abandon you, dumbass. You or Melanie. I’d do anything for you two,” Caleb said, before playfully shoving Mason’s head away. The former intensity of the moment evaporated.
Mason grinned and stood up. After depositing the pistol into his back pocket awkwardly, he reached a hand down to Caleb, who grabbed it and let Mason pull him up off the curb. Caleb winced at the way Mason stored his weapon.
“Didn’t I give you a holster yesterday?” He asked, incredulous.
“Lost it,” Mason replied brusquely as he pulled a crushed-up pile of fabric from his hoodie pocket. Caleb sighed.
After a moment of struggle as he tried to untangle everything, Mason handed Caleb a ball cap, before putting one on himself. It took him a second to tuck his ponytail up into it, concealing his long hair. “Let’s do this.”
Caleb smiled and put his own hat on. He took his family ring off and tucks it into the pocket of his jacket. He’d almost forgotten about it. “Okay, let’s go.”
Almost in unison, they pulled up the face masks they were previously wearing around their chins and set off down the street.
-
They entered the luxury store quietly, trying to be inconspicuous. Mason scanned the aisles, counting the people. Only three, good. He could handle three people. The man closest to the door gave them a look, before obviously losing interest and returning to his browsing.
Caleb made eye contact with Mason, who nodded. The two quietly retrieved their guns, and without hesitation, Caleb fired one shot at the ceiling. Some sort of dust rained down from the new bullet hole. The gunshot was deafening in the little store, making Mason’s ears ring slightly, but it did the job of attracting everyone’s attention well.
Mason spoke loudly, projecting his voice. “This is a robbery. Everyone down on the ground, we don’t want to have to hurt anyone.” He paused for effect. “But we will if necessary.”
As he was speaking, Caleb made his way over to the cashier and placed the bag that formerly held their guns on the counter. She watched him with wide eyes, a deer in the headlights. He kept the gun pointed at the ceiling but in her line of sight.
“Fill it up. Quickly,” he instructed her, his voice clipped.
The cashier was a young girl, very blonde and very obviously terrified. She took the bag with shaking hands and scrambled to grab cash from the register, stuffing it into the bag. Caleb watched her with sharp eyes. Behind them Mason was stalking the aisles like a predator, keeping his eyes on the customers. Caleb silently complimented him in his head. He was performing his role very well this time.
“That’s everything,” the cashier girl said, barely above a whisper. Caleb almost didn’t hear her, if he hadn’t noticed her lips moving he might not have realized she’d spoken at all.
She passed the bag back to him, her hands still trembling violently.
Caleb winced, feeling a bit sorry for her. “Sorry, dear. It’s not personal.”
He zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder securely. Then he hurried over to Mason and grabbed his shoulder. Mason startled but quickly realized who it was.
Caleb gestured towards the door with a jerk of his head. Mason nodded and the two of them crossed the store quickly, putting their guns away as they did. There was a very quiet clattering sound when Caleb lifted his jacket to access the holster, and his frenzied brain latched onto it. He whipped his head around, scanned the area but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He didn’t have time to investigate thoroughly, so he put it out of his mind.
Within seconds they were out of the store and Caleb felt like he could breathe normally again. But before he had time to catch his breath, Mason was grabbing his wrist and taking off down the street.
The source of the swiftly forgotten clattering noise was now sitting peacefully on the floor where it fell from Caleb’s pocket. Unfortunately, neither of them had noticed it in their haste. But now it was hard to miss. For once the dull old ring looked beautiful, the red light from the sunset reflecting off the intricately carved Suwanrat family crest.
-
They ran for a block before making a sharp right into the tiny alley they had been smoking in front of just minutes before. They stopped in front of Mason’s old motorcycle and ripped their masks and hats off, breathing hard. The hats and masks, along with the bag full of money, were shoved hastily into the duffel bag still waiting on the seat.
Frantically, they both started to undress. Caleb’s hands were shaky with adrenaline as he ripped his jacket off, followed by the holster with the gun still inside. He almost tore one of the buttons off his shirt as he rushed to get it off. Across from him, Mason had already removed his hoodie.
Caleb handed his clothes to Mason who balled everything together and shoved it all into the duffel bag with the other things. Caleb would’ve been annoyed by this display of carelessness if he hadn’t been in such a hurry. Mason found the two fresh shirts Caleb had neatly folded earlier and left on the seat next to the duffel bag, and handed one over. They both quickly put them on.
As soon as he was done, Mason got on the bike. Barely a second later, Caleb put the strap of the duffel bag over his shoulder and climbed on behind him. He grabbed onto Mason’s waist in a death grip, fingernails digging in. If this were any other time, Mason would have taken the opportunity to whine and complain.
“Go, go, go, go!” Caleb said from behind him, trying his best to keep his voice hushed. He was failing.
Mason grinned and obliged, and the two took off down the street. It’s true his bike was old, but it could go fast when it needed to.
Once they were a few blocks away, Mason’s adrenaline induced tunnel vision started to wear off, and the details of his surroundings hit him all at once. Caleb was laughing loudly in his ear and he could feel how hard the hands he had on his waist were shaking. They were both covered in sweat, and the shirts they had only just put on were quickly becoming drenched. But the air that whipped around the bike as they moved was cool, providing a bit of relief from the uncomfortable stickiness.
This was the part Mason had always liked best about doing stupid, dangerous things. When the adrenaline was wearing off and you became hyper-aware of everything around you, the afterglow.
Maybe this feeling was why he always came back to it.
Mason made a sharp right turn, and they were on their way home.
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