Here’s a submission written based on one of our writing prompts! Bill Manahan, an NMC student, wrote this at our January 2023 write-in at the JKPL.
Writing Prompt–Characters are in hot pursuit
By Linson Bill Manahan
Dazed. Confused. My eyes blurry but eventually they come to. I see the night sky and the stars above shining down. The dark shadows of trees sway in the wind. I feel myself laying on the cold hard pavement. On top of the stinging pain shooting through my back, I feel my damp shirt cooled by the evening temperatures. My ears are ringing but as the pain fades, I slowly hear that voice. That voice, that damned idiotic voice, screeching as if it were a trapped rat in a corner against a hungry cat.
“Jimmy? Jimmy, wake up, damn it we’ve gotta go!”.
My arm gets tugged up and I’m suddenly on my feet. Shaky, but I manage to steady myself. My eyes strain but manage to clear up the hazy image of a familiar face.
“What… what just happened?” I manage to eke out in a rasp.
“Look, Jimmy, I’m sorry but I told you! I told you I ain’t supposed to be the driver. But you, always with your plans, said ‘ain’t nobody else but you to do it’, now look at us. Car’s jacked, cops on our tails, and you just wakin’ up from a beauty nap!”. Carl, always the one to point a finger at everyone else but himself.
The memories start to flood in. It was a simple job. Get the box, bring it back over, no questions asked. Wasn’t supposed to involve cops but Carl, idiot Carl, just couldn’t keep his nerves in check. Drove too fast, drove too damn fast and got the attention of the cops. Soon as Carl sees lights in the back, he guns it even harder. Had the idea he could drive through the park and lose them. Ends up driving into a tree and crashing into the parking lot.
I walk up to him. I place my hand on his shoulder and I give him a reassuring smile. He grins back, the same stupid grin he always puts on whenever we were in trouble as kids. It never worked for him. The palm of my hand connects to the side of the face. He yelps, falling to the ground in a thud.
“Idiot! You drive 60 on a 35 and think you won’t get noticed? Instead of pulling over, you try and pull some Hollywood BS thinking that would work?”. I raise my hand again. Carl holds both of his in front of his face.
“Jimmy, jimmy look I said sorry alright. We’re buddies, pals, right? Surely you could find it your heart and see this as a lil mistake by your old pal Carl, huh?”.
I could never fathom just where he gets the gall from. Suddenly we’re surrounded by the blaring sounds of police sirens. The blinding colors of red and blue flashing around us. We were made, no getting out of this one now.
We held our hands up high as cops approached us, cuffs in hand.
Then, Carl tried to run off, already handcuffed. He didn’t get far before he tripped and fell on his face, followed by the dog pile of cops that pursued him. As I was propped into a car, I see the box we were supposed to get being pulled out from the wreck. I watched as the police opened it up, awaiting in dread what charges they’d add after seeing what it was. Out fell donuts. Pink and Chocolate frosted with sprinkles all over.
“You’ve got to be kidding…”