A. L. Kaplan

Tag: thief

  • TREASURE’S KEEP

    Treaure ChestTaranto surveyed the old warehouse and shook his head. Random letters, squiggles, and a cartoon mummy decorated its surface. Hard to believe he loaded trucks here as a kid thirty years ago. The entire neighborhood was abandoned and crumbling.  At least the warehouse hadn’t been bulldozed.

    If only he’d stayed strait. He and his friends missed one little camera on their last heist, an important detail that got them ten years in prison. Taranto learned to keep his mouth shut in there. The other guys mouthed off too many times. Now the entire treasure was his.

    Roaches and rats scurried around as he stepped inside the old building. A sudden ripping sound made Taranto’s skin prickle. He paused and looked around. Seeing no one, he resumed counting paces. Strange shuffling noises increased with each step.

    Eager to find the money and the odd gold medallion hidden there, Taranto pushed his growing panic away and ran the map through his mind. Forty two steps from the door. Turn left. Walk another twelves steps. Sweat dripped down his back as he pried up the concrete slab and dug the box out of the gravel. His fingers caressed the old Egyptian medallion.

    “It’s about time you came back.”

    Taranto spun around. His chest felt like it was going to explode. The painted mummy from outside stood right behind him, arms crossed. He stumbled away from the cloth wrapped monster and tripped over the shovel. With his backside stuck in the newly dug hole, all he could do was flail his arms and legs as the mummy advanced. A scream caught in his throat.

    “Don’t wet yourself,” said the mummy, as he grabbed Taranto’s swinging hand and pulled him to his feet.

    Taranto’s legs felt like rubber. “But…But you’re a mummy.”

    “Darn fairytales,” mumbled the mummy. “I’m not going to eat you like a genie. Those guys are evil, really bad news. Mummies are nice guys. You have the medallion, so congratulations. You get three wishes. Make them count.”

     

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  • LESSON LEARNED

    “You’re nothing but a thief, a leach living off people’s dreams,” someone yelled.

    Jay froze, hand inches from banging on Mr. Smith’s front door. He’d been thinking those same words as he slogged down the snow-covered driveway. So excited that a publisher wanted his novel, Jay didn’t think twice before shelling out thousands of dollars for editing, cover design, and postage. He even paid for most of the printing. All he had to show for his work and money was the box of overpriced books he bought from the publisher. The novel wasn’t even available on-line.

    A second voice squeaked like a rat caught in a trap. “I’ll pay you your royalties. Just let me get my checkbook.”

    It seemed Jay wasn’t the only one taken in by Smith Publishing. He peered in through the narrow window next to the door, but all he saw was a pair of shadows on the wall. One of them waved what looked like a weapon, just like the gun weighing down Jay’s pocket. The other held its hands in the air.

    “It’s too late, Smith.”

    “Please. I’ll give you anything.”

    Three shots rang out. The smaller shadow slumped to the ground. Flakes of snow slipped inside Jay’s jacket collar, but he didn’t notice. He wouldn’t be getting any money back after all. Nor did he get to confront Smith himself. At least he had a new novel idea. This time he’d be careful and check the Writers Beware and Predators and Editors websites first.

  • LITTLE SQUIRT

    Chocolate, gooey caramel. My mouth almost waters. If only I could still taste that luscious candy, but the reanimated can’t do that. It wouldn’t be bad if I got out more. I mean, Grandma is great and all. She brought me back to half-life after I was killed. It’s just not the same without other kids to play with. Halloween is the only day I can go outside without freaking the living. Believe me, you don’t want the pitchfork and torch brigade chasing you.

    “Trick or Treat.” I hold out my sack with the other children.

    A lady hands me a handful of candy. “Great Costume.”

    I thank her and hurry toward the next house. Two little girls sob at the curb. Halloween should be fun, not sad.

    “Are you ok?”

    The bunny points a gloved paw at three disappearing teens. Her ears bounce with each sniffle. “They…took… our…candy.”

    I hate bullies. “Here, take mine.”

    Big, round, adoring eyes look up at me. Being undead has its perks. I track the thieves faster than a bloodhound.

    “That candy isn’t yours.”

    They laugh and tower around me. “Get lost or get pounded, squirt.”

    “Squirt, is it.” I take a deep breath and squirt them with inky old blood.

    A moment of stunned silence, then they clench their fists. I point down. They stare as skeletal hands reach up and pull them into the ground. Half-buried, they shriek and struggle.

    “Don’t steal, especially from little kids on Halloween. I’ll be watching.”

  • PURSE SNATCHER

    “Don’t just stand there! Go after him.”

    Concerned tourists gathered around the old woman. Purse snatching isn’t on my list of things to witness while vacationing, but hey, I’m a cop. I looked up the flight of marble stairs. The punk that grabbed her bag must have been part monkey. If I tried running him down I’d be clutching my chest like the old lady. I was a lot older than monkey kid and my daily donuts hung around my waist like banana custard. Good think I didn’t need to.

    “Don’t worry. He’ll be right down,” I said. “Those upper steps are slick.”

    No one noticed my fingers wiggle as I helped the woman stand. A thin glaze of ice formed on the steps. Not an easy feat to do in Southern California. But hey, I’m talented.

    Just my luck, monkey kid must have been part cat. He stumbled on the ice, then leaped past. I muttered an oath. At least I had one more ace up my sleeve. My little friend popped up to the top of the stairs just as the kid reached the uppermost step. By little I mean huge. Anyone but me saw Clyde as heat rising in the distance…Unless, of course, you ran into him.

    Monkey kid shrieked, then tumbled backwards down the steps. I couldn’t help but smile. Any mention of what he saw would be attributed to the huge crack on his skull. Score one for me and Clyde.

  • Pup O’ Lantern

    Damn that witch. Like it’s my fault her field had the best pumpkins in town. How was I supposed to know it was hers? Not that it mattered. Hey, in my hood, if you want something you take it, and be dammed everyone else. It’s called survival, and I was at the top of the food chain. Of course I took the biggest pumpkin. Nothing but the best for JP Pish. That’s Mr. Pish to you.  At least I was at the top before she caught me taking her prize pumpkin. I would have knocked out the old hag. Really I would have, but something tripped me up.

    Now I’m in this ridiculous four legged form. Big tough guy like me, you’d think a nice big Rottweiler or even a Doberman. But no, she had to turn me into a wimpy little fluff covered yap machine. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’m stuck in a goofy pumpkin costume. I’m so humiliated. She said I owed her for losing the pumpkin prize at the fair. I have to get first prize for cutest dog at the Halloween masquerade or she’ll never turn me back into a human. I swear, one more person rubs my head and says how ‘cute’ I look I’ll bite their hand off.

    Oh God, here comes another. Wait a minute, she’s hot.  Man, this one can pet me all she wants. Come closer, honey. Mr. Pish has some kisses for you.