Blurred Memories

Act One

The wind blew across the midnight sky, whining and shrieking. It was so loud, the people of Woodstock were driven mad by its deathly cry. Kids were being pushed forcefully off their bikes, and hair was whipping across faces like thick waves.

At the estate area, there walked Robert Callahan, a man in his late thirties. He was tall, and well fit. His dark brown eyes twinkled perfectly; you could almost see the reflection of the moon if you looked close enough. His short shaggy hair shivered and waved back and forth through the wind, though never ceased to get into Robert's face.

Next to him was a colleague of his--David Stock, another tall man, however was much larger than Robert, and had bright green eyes, as well as brown wavy hair. The two walked on the sidewalks of Monesto Drive, trying to be as quiet as possible, as to not disturb anyone.

"Like I said," David said to Robert, whispering and looking back. "Kings has our stuff. We grab it, sneak under through the riverbed, make our way to the docks, and give it to Grover."

His voice was high-pitched, and almost squeaked a little--most likely due to the rush of him and Robert trying to get to their location quickly.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Stock, I know the plan," Robert said, his voice, in contrast to David's, was rumbling. He watched as a house turned their lights off; presumably the owners had gone to bed. "Where is Kings anyway? He keeps changing his locations every job."

"Well it's so he doesn't get caught, right? I mean it would only make sense to keep changing areas to meet up if you didn't wanna get holed up in some place by the cops."

"You're right. But you didn't answer my question."

"What?"

"Where is Kings?"

"Oh, right." David looked around, making sure no one was listening. "You know the clothes shop behind the Redwood Theaters?"

"On Blake and Tonks?"

"Yeah! That's the one! Well, Kings is gonna be inside, all we gotta do is knock three times on the window, so that he knows it's us."

The two were now reaching the suburbs area. Here there were identical houses with typical white-picket fences and green grass. Robert was looking through a house, and saw what seemed to be a cat, running itself against the glass of the window, meowing and scratching the glass. Robert looked away, and noticed how the streets Blake and Tonks came into view.

After crossing the street, they looked around for anyone who would be hanging by the shop. When felt the coast was clear, David walked up to the glass door and did the knock.

Almost immediately, the door was opened.

"Well, hello you boys," said a man in a deep voice, much deeper than Robert's. Robert himself flinched a little, as he always seemed to have done when coming in contact with this man.

"Hey Kings," said Robert, regaining his balance.

Kings was much larger than the two men combined. His face was bloated, and his eye lids dropped lower than his pants had from his waist; he wore no belt. He had on a velvet coat, and a top hat to complete his villainous appearance.

"How you doin'? How's the family?" he said, shaking Robert's hand first.

Robert's eye twitched, and Kings threw a sinister chuckle.

"They're great," Robert said sarcastically. "Can you just give us the damn stuff already, I'm tired and hungry."

"Oh of course!" Kings said after shaking David's hand. "Wait here," he said, smirking.

He walked into darkness, and disappeared. When he came back he had in his hands two giant bags whose contents were unknown.

"Here." Kings gave the two the bags, in which they stuffed in their backpacks. "I believe you will not fail me or my clients?"

"See you next time," said David, walking back outside the shop with Robert.

Robert and David then made their way to the docks, which shouldn't be too far. On the way over, David broke the constant silence by asking Robert a question.

"'How's the family?' But, Robert, I thought--"

"You thought right." Robert said, interrupting him.

"But, really, how's--"

"Be quiet."

"Robert I'm just wondering, yeah? Can you tell me about what happened with you and--"

"I said that's enough!" Robert snapped.

"Okay okay, I get it, I'm sorry," David said.

Shaking his head, Robert pointed out, "Look, the dock's just ahead."

Once they reached the dock, they were met with a man in a large trench coat.

"Hello gentlemen," the man said. "I suppose you're the boys dropping my items off?"

"That's right," said Robert. "Here's your stuff, Grover," he said as he and David unzipped their backpacks, and handed the him his items.

"Thank you boys," Grover nodded his head in acceptance. "Here's your end of the bargain." Grover then pulled out large stacks of one hundred dollar bills out of the inside pockets of his trench coat, and handed equal amounts to the two men. "You be havin' a nice night tonight--the wind's quite cruel."

"You be careful out there," David called to Grover, as he watched him step into a black car a few feet away from where they made the transaction.

As the two made their way back to the estates, the winds blew harder than ever. The money stuffed into their backpacks, they walked gleefully back up to Monesto Drive.

"What'd you reckon was in the bags?" David asked Robert, as they neared their homes.

"Dunno, and who cares, we got our money."

"Suppose you're right. Well, see you next time?"

"See you next time."

And Robert and David walked their separate ways to their own homes.

Robert walked streets away from David's residence; he reached Tindale Street with a sigh, and walked towards his own home. He unlocked the door, creaked it open, and walked inside.

Inside his own home, Robert lazily threw his backpack on his counter, knocking down a few letters from the mail and pens.

He opened his backpack to quickly look inside at his money, to make sure it was real and not counterfeit. To his luck, it wasn't.

He placed it back in his backpack, and walked up his mahogany staircase to his room. Not washing up, he plopped himself on his kingsize bed, his clothes still on. Robert looked at the digital clock on his nightstand, which read 2:03 a.m., Saturday. He closed his eyes, and went to sleep.

In his dream, he saw Kings, shaking his hand again ("How are you boy? How's the family?"). The room went dark, and suddenly he was flying though the streets of Woodstock, seeing people carrying on with their everyday lives.

Finally he made his way to a dark blue house, in which the front door opened itself. Inside was pitch black, however all but a hand that began to extend from the darkness had been seen. The hand then extended to a forearm, then Robert could see an elbow, then....

"Robby..."