This story unites 3 different prompts.
First is my own – Carpe Diem, and the photo – ‘Do I have a choice?’
Second – the photo of the boat and the tourists, enjoying a whale-watching – Here
Third is for RAGTAG – Here – the word is ‘Indulgence’.
Money. From the day we are born to the day we die it regulates our lives. It shapes our thoughts, jobs, dreams and love.
The boat was full of the tourists, but Mr Pinochet had his own spot: a beautiful cabin with the air-conditioning, bed, flowers and champagne.
– Pinochet, what are we doing here? I’m soooo bored… – a leggy blonde with a pretty hazel eyes glanced over her shoulder at the phone, taking a selfie.
– Waiting for my money. I can’t show up in Europe right now. You know that. FBI is after me everywhere… I stuck on this shitty whale-boat, – answered man, dressed in the terracotta shirt.
He lit a cigar and continued:
– The journey of money is always tragic, because it is a lonely path. But it does fit for a stubborn individuals, like you and me, Liz. There’s more champagne in the fridge, and I have ordered 3 extra boxes of the chocolate like you asked.
Liz closed her eyes. A soft breeze carried the scent of the sea, the fish and of course -French champagne. She sighed:
– I want un eclair au chocolat, mon ami.
– Ahhh, the best chocolate eclairs made only in my hometown. You have to go there, my angel.
Pinochet chuckled, put down his cigar and added:
– Darling, I have an idea. You are going to France…
France. The train.
Her legs felt stiff. She looked forward to a good sleep in the hotel suite this evening.
– How long? – asked the young guy in a black leather jacket, while scanning Liz’s legs.
– I’m not sure, Pinochet said 4 hours only.
Mark sipped his cola and looked at Liz’s legs. He didn’t know the goal of the trip, but he had a gun and his task was to help to get in and out safely to the West Bank in White Mountain-village. Should be a lot of money, if Pinochet has been interested in such a small shithole. But why he sent this woman with him?
Liz slowly touched Mark’s hand:
– Do you wanna a visa to heaven?
– Only if for the fixed price.
– ‘Carpe Diem’ your sad life a little bit, Marx!
– It is MARK! M…A…
It was that kind of action, when your soul is suddenly flies out to heaven and then gets back with a power to breathe a life into any creature around you. Your spirit is changed. Your soul is free from the prison, doubts, cravings, lust.
‘On the ground! Now! Or I’ll kill anyone who moves…’ – Mark stepped into the West Bank with a gun in his hand.
Surprisingly, only 3 people worked in that bank: the director, the accountant and the secretary. Liz stuck near the coffee machine and a huge basket with a fresh eclairs. She smiled back at Mark:
– I knew you could do it. You have the spark.
1 day before.
A long hot summer. Pinochet’s mobile rang. The calm melodic female voice asked:
– When are you planning to pick them up?
– So many chocolate eclairs is a dangerous threat, Pinochet.
– Do you want to give me a lesson how to handle my sex, food and power?
– No. I know you are enjoying all of them. So who’s coming?
– The crocodile Liz?
Pinochet smiled, his sharp gaze still focused on the horizon:
-…who believes she is a Cinderella.
– And who is a Prince Charming on this dangerous tour?
– A new guy. Mark. Stupid, but can handle a gun.
– So one Germ and one Demon. Nice…
– Just give them my eclairs, okay?
– Do I have a choice?
It was a rhetorical question. The voice on the other end took a deep breath and said ‘good bye’.
Liz sat on a white sofa, facing the bags full of eclairs.
– WHAT IS THAT?? I’m asking you!
– Eclairs. Chocolate eclairs. I love them. Cheers! – she filled the glass with red wine.
– I see that. But Pinochet would never send us to rob the bank for the f”kn sweets. He doesn’t run any bake-roll-sheet-business as far as I know. And now the police is after us because of your shitty heels!
– All because of the stairs…and the building is very old. Otherwise I’d never fall! – Liz leaned against the sofa, finally taking off her shoes.
– 2 stairs, not 6, not 10, not 15. A rural-low-kinda-like-a-road-stairs!
The knock on the door surprised them. Mark turned his face to the door. He tried to recall if he locked it.
– Eat eclairs. Now, – Liz pushed a gun to the back of his head.
Liz put her face closer to Mark’s, while listening the screaming policemen behind the door:
– You are mental…sick…- Mark’s eyes were dark and serious.
Liz checked the mobile in her pocket. Then she closed her eyes again and wept.
– Where’re MYyy eclairs???!!!! – yelled Pinochet at the top of his voice.
– I told you, inside of Mark. I made him eat it.
– And where’s Mark? I don’t have a ‘mind-reading’ helmet and I’m really angry now, so tell me…
– I don’t understand why you sent him, the guy has a squirrel-brain, – Liz wanted to add, that even the squirrel would have a bigger ‘deal’ in the pants, but each her cell had screamed – ‘lie!’
– Mrs Grech hid all the diamonds in those damn eclairs. And where are they now? In someone’s guts!
Liz gulped and nodded. Ahhh. The diamonds. Blissful orgasms don’t last very long. Now, after eating for years one single (Pinochet’s) nut she could finally go out looking for more: pleasant deep sensations, big pools and good looking energetic-balls. She saw herself standing on the top of the world.
– I’ll get them for you, Pinocchio, darling… – Liz examined her appearance in the small mirror, retouched red lipstick and transformed into a very dangerous person.
The sounds seemed like a lullaby.
– So what happened next, pa? – the boy repeated again.
– Liz used the uranium in her knickers to destroy the microscopic head of that evil Pinochet, not leaving even a crumb of him… after the smart revolutionary action in his bedroom, – explained his father.
– Hm. Uranium is a radioactive atom.
– Yeah, your mom was a free spirit. But I’m not responsible for her crimes.
– And then? – the boy stared at his blanket.
– A chain-reaction of biochemical events …reached the end of my, mmm, let’s say, body. It was a free will. I didn’t took any laxatives, but your mom have tried, – Mark paused – and that’s how we got the money for our houses and the bakery. Even highly experienced detectives would never find those diamonds. Haha
– Mom told me that your ‘limb’ will never stay on the top again.
– When she told you that? – Mark’s voice faded.
– On the kitchen floor, before she died. Why is she died, dad?
– The indulgence. Or let’s say she spent too much time with your math-teacher, Mr Watson. Good night, my love.
The boy sat quietly, his big eyes watching the hands of his father:
– You know that I don’t like math, right…?
Next Post – Homo Deus Book Review
Living in Sweden. Awesome. Happy. Ayurvedic food. Healthy lifestyle. Dogs. Literature. Painting. Meditation/Yoga. I love my life.
"It does not matter how long you are spending on the earth, how much money you have gathered or how much attention you have received. It is the amount of positive vibration you have radiated in life that matters" A. Ray