S M A S H
A fictional short story by John A. Huguley - © 2019
It's 3:00 am. As I get ready to step out for the evening, my palms are starting to sweat and my heart is racing. I'm flipping through my closet trying to find something dark to wear. I grab a pair of dark blue jeans and a black hoodie. I quickly get dressed. I go over to an old shoebox I have sitting between my bed and nightstand. I open it and pull out a pair of pliers, a screwdriver, and a hammer. I lay the three tools on top of my bed and wrap them in an old towel. Clinching the role in my hand, I quietly walk out the door of my apartment.
The neighborhood is silent. I stroll a few blocks while humming a tune in my head. I think I’ve ventured far enough from my place that I won’t be recognized walking the streets. I pull my hood over my head, and I look towards the ground as I start my prowl. I see a silver Lexus parked in a driveway with a large tree next to it. The tree is casting a shadow on the car. I step behind the tree and stand there for a minute while checking to see if anyone is looking. It's clear - so I creep up to the car and look in to see if there's anything of value. Nothing stands out, at least nothing worth my time. I turn and walk away.
I approach multiple cars, mostly ones sitting in the dark. I do this until I find a vehicle with something worthy in plain view. It's a process I go through each time I go out on the prowl. Sometimes it's two or three cars before I find what I want. Sometimes I find something on the very first one.
I walk a little further down the street. I spot a mini-van that's backed against an old wooden fence and bushes. It’s hard to see through the side tinted windows so I glance through the front windshield. I see a dark suitcase laying across the backseat. I step back and notice the license plate is from out of state. I think to myself, "visitors from out of town, a perfect target!" I turn and look around to make sure nobody has stepped out for a morning jog or dog walk. The streets are clear. I check all the van doors in case one is unlocked - I figure, why make my job harder than it should be.
The van is locked up tight, so I move to the back between the rear door and the fence. I lay down my towel roll on the ground revealing my tools of the trade. Using the towel as a sound dampener, I rest it over the back window with my forearm and strike the center one solid time with my hammer. The ‘pop’ sound is not loud. The entire window shatters into tiny pieces of green glass. I use the head of the hammer to clear the remaining glass out of the window frame. I don't want to open the back door and risk having the dome light come on, so I fold the towel in half and drape it over the ledge before climbing through the window.
In the back seat, the first thing I do is open the suitcase and quickly rummage through it, looking for anything of value. There is a curling iron, clothing, and toiletries; none of it worth taking. I climb up to the front of the van while taking a quick look to see if anyone has appeared. I open the glove box. "Bingo!" a tablet PC and charger. I grab them both and I shove them into the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie. I reach up in the visors to see if there is anything - nothing, so I push them back up. I reach under the two front seats. I find a woman’s red pocketbook under the driver's seat! I open it. It's full of credit cards and identification. I tuck it under my arm. Now it's time to go! I quietly step out of the van and close the door behind me. I step to the back and wrap my tools in the towel.
My heart is pounding as I walk back to my apartment and go inside. I look at the clock, no more than thirty minutes have passed since I stepped out. I open the red pocketbook and find $80 cash and some change. I search deeper looking for any secret compartments that might be holding more money. I find nothing. I toss the pocketbook with its credit cards across the room into a cardboard box sitting in the corner. I press the power button on the tablet PC that was in the glove box. It boots up and doesn’t ask for a password. I know I can sell this for $50. I think to myself, "$130 for 30 minutes of work - not a bad night. I’ll go back out for another shift after I grab something to eat."
The neighborhood is silent. I stroll a few blocks while humming a tune in my head. I think I’ve ventured far enough from my place that I won’t be recognized walking the streets. I pull my hood over my head, and I look towards the ground as I start my prowl. I see a silver Lexus parked in a driveway with a large tree next to it. The tree is casting a shadow on the car. I step behind the tree and stand there for a minute while checking to see if anyone is looking. It's clear - so I creep up to the car and look in to see if there's anything of value. Nothing stands out, at least nothing worth my time. I turn and walk away.
I approach multiple cars, mostly ones sitting in the dark. I do this until I find a vehicle with something worthy in plain view. It's a process I go through each time I go out on the prowl. Sometimes it's two or three cars before I find what I want. Sometimes I find something on the very first one.
I walk a little further down the street. I spot a mini-van that's backed against an old wooden fence and bushes. It’s hard to see through the side tinted windows so I glance through the front windshield. I see a dark suitcase laying across the backseat. I step back and notice the license plate is from out of state. I think to myself, "visitors from out of town, a perfect target!" I turn and look around to make sure nobody has stepped out for a morning jog or dog walk. The streets are clear. I check all the van doors in case one is unlocked - I figure, why make my job harder than it should be.
The van is locked up tight, so I move to the back between the rear door and the fence. I lay down my towel roll on the ground revealing my tools of the trade. Using the towel as a sound dampener, I rest it over the back window with my forearm and strike the center one solid time with my hammer. The ‘pop’ sound is not loud. The entire window shatters into tiny pieces of green glass. I use the head of the hammer to clear the remaining glass out of the window frame. I don't want to open the back door and risk having the dome light come on, so I fold the towel in half and drape it over the ledge before climbing through the window.
In the back seat, the first thing I do is open the suitcase and quickly rummage through it, looking for anything of value. There is a curling iron, clothing, and toiletries; none of it worth taking. I climb up to the front of the van while taking a quick look to see if anyone has appeared. I open the glove box. "Bingo!" a tablet PC and charger. I grab them both and I shove them into the kangaroo pouch of my hoodie. I reach up in the visors to see if there is anything - nothing, so I push them back up. I reach under the two front seats. I find a woman’s red pocketbook under the driver's seat! I open it. It's full of credit cards and identification. I tuck it under my arm. Now it's time to go! I quietly step out of the van and close the door behind me. I step to the back and wrap my tools in the towel.
My heart is pounding as I walk back to my apartment and go inside. I look at the clock, no more than thirty minutes have passed since I stepped out. I open the red pocketbook and find $80 cash and some change. I search deeper looking for any secret compartments that might be holding more money. I find nothing. I toss the pocketbook with its credit cards across the room into a cardboard box sitting in the corner. I press the power button on the tablet PC that was in the glove box. It boots up and doesn’t ask for a password. I know I can sell this for $50. I think to myself, "$130 for 30 minutes of work - not a bad night. I’ll go back out for another shift after I grab something to eat."