No Good Deed

“No Good Deed”

He grabs his bike from a wall mounted rack in Bay 16 of the carwash and hustles home, hoping to excite his wife by the mere early arrival of his presence. The fanfare is less than expected. MJ gives his wife a nice kiss on the cheek and hug from behind. “I’m glad you’re home Goose but I did not pencil in any sweet hubby time”. “Great”, MJ says chuckling. “Next time I’ll call your assistant.”

“Your daughter thinks she’s my event planner”, she replies.

By the time MJ and Nikea arrive in the dining room, the table is set, and the food is on the table. Nikea, who also goes by the name “Lil Sweet”, gives the dinner prayer and the adults start to dole out the vittles. Nikea talks about her day and that she got to play tennis after school. But MJ’s distracted – pushing his food around the plate. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and snap peas. Generally considered to be his holy trinity of Carol’s cooking.

“What’s on your mind, Goose?”, she asks.

“Some guy left his fancy car at the shop for way too long and no one can get a hold of him. And he left this in his car”. MJ pulls the notebook from his back pocket and places it on the table. “I know you did not steal some old rich man’s notebook, from his car”? It’s in the form of a question but it’s more of a clarifying statement.

“Well yes. I did. Something is up with this guy. He’s got this beautiful SUV, and he’s more than a week late picking it up. He’s a sweet old man who always tips us huge and is a legend in the community. And he’s black Carrol. I feel like someone should be checking on him. Or doing something other than moving his car to a place that’s less inconvenient”.

“Well, you’re in it now MJ. Better try and help out the situation best you can”.

“Naw, I’ll just drop this in the lost and found when I’m locking up. And no one will be the wiser”.

“Don’t you dare Michael James. What if there is a problem and you didn’t help when you could’ve. You’d never forgive yourself. And we can’t have any more hurt feelings in this house.

Smiling, she says, “just don’t come back here tonight, telling me that you and your old crew are following a treasure map and that the Holy Grail is buried beneath Citadel Mall”.

He heads out to his spot behind the garage, to a beach chair and a dashboard phone caddie mounted to the old wood siding. He thumbs though the diary under the blue light glow. Seems to be just day to day B.S. Groups of whole pages covered in notes, from a meeting or something. And then he sees what he was looking for: “I’m being followed. Please Help”.

“Oh shit”, he says and drops it at his feet which dislodges some business cards from the side pocket. It’s a card from “Sylvia Pennington” for “Mindful Hypnotherapy” at 636 Ashley Conquest Ave. That’s it. That’s the place. I know this place. We stopped them from putting a hotel there several years ago.

He gets to his destination a few minutes later, parks in the street and starts a slow walk up the long driveway. “Can I help you man”, stops MJ dead in his tracks. A half second of silence is followed by a very low canine growl. “I’m. I’m from the car wash. Dr. Pennington’s car has been there for 10 days. We’re concerned. And he left his journal in the car”.

“Heel boy”. The voice comes from the left and his command is followed by a tiny whelp of disapproval. The voice takes a series of slow steps towards MJ. It’s a boy. A white boy – skater looking kid. “What’s your name”, the tall cherub says.

“MJ. Who, who are you”?

“I’m Tyson. Dr. Pennington’s right hand. Dr. Pennington’s grandson, Jacob, is my best friend in life”.

Both German Shepherds sniff MJ up and down before allowing him to pass. This place is beautiful. Long steps up to a huge, pillared porch. It looks like an old plantation home. MJ steps through the front door, following the boy and his dogs. He walks through a hall into a big open room with huge windows. “Dr. P, this guy, JJ, is from the car wash”.

“MJ”, he corrects him.

“Sorry. MJ. He says they’re worried that you haven’t picked up your car and he has your journal.

“So, what is it you have for me, young man”, asks Dr. P.

MJ pulls out the notebook and hands it over. “The last page says you’re being followed.”

“Do you see that Tyson. Someone got my message. And the answer is Yes. We were being followed. Tyson picked up the car after being detailed and drove over to the gym to pick me up. We noticed them then and so we turned around and headed back to the carwash. Anyway, it was four middle eastern looking guys in a silver Audi four door. We went back through the car wash and gave a guy a twenty to put it back in the bay. And then phoned a friend for a pickup. The Audi was waiting across the street the entire time”.

Dr. P says that doesn’t know why he’s being targeted and like any black man who’s spent time in this country, he is very hesitant to call the police.

“So, MJ. I have a proposition for you. I would like you to go pick up my car and bring it here. And in return, Ill pay you 20 thousand dollars”.

“Hell no. I’m not that kind of fool”, MJ replies. “It’s ok. We’ve worked it out”, Dr. P continues. Tyson will arrive early and watch for them. Once he’s got visual, he’ll call the police and tell them that they brandished a gun. The police will set up a roadblock and as soon as they’re behind you, the cops will step in and stop them. And after a brief word with the police, you’ll be able to drive my car on home”.

MJ looks puzzled. “So, why don’t you do it”, MJ asks.

“Seriously son. The whole thing would give me a heart attack on the spot”, Dr. P replies.

“Well, what about Tyson then? He drives you anyway. Wouldn’t that make more sense”?

Well Yes. But Tyson is the relay man. And besides. He’s far too important to me to put him at that kind of risk”.

“What about me”, MJ retorts.

“What about you”, Dr. P follows-up. “I just met you”.

“Yeah. But I came here to help”, MJ replies.

“I just told you what I need”, Dr. P continued. “Ill find someone else if I have to. But this timing seemed perfect”.

MJ walks to the left into the open kitchen area – palming his skull and raking his fingers across the top of his head. “But why. If they want you dead, wouldn’t they just come in here and take care of it?”

“Well, the dogs are very effective. And we actually haven’t spotted them in the neighborhood. They’ve been staking out the car, solely”.

“MJ. This is the deal. I’ll pay you 20 grand to be cool for 20 minutes. That’s a thousand dollars a minute. Or 60 thousand dollars an hour. That’s more than Bill Gates makes an hour”.

MJ rubs his face, hard. “Ok. Yes. I’ll do it. But what do I tell the police when they stop me”?

“You are delivering my car and Tyson, who will be right behind you, is delivering my truck”, Dr P. goes on.

Dr. P explains the details and timing of their positions. “MJ, if you get to the merge early, just wave on the other drivers until you see Tyson”.

MJ doesn’t get home until nearly eleven that night and is way too wired to go to sleep. He checks in on the fam and then heads out to his chair with a couple of Stella’s. 20k pays for Nikea’s school for the next three semesters. Plus, some left over for school supplies and some clothes and maybe the lady and I can get away for a weekend. Maybe. How am I going to square this with Carol?

Can’t think about that now. I’m in. I’m doing it. He tips back those beers quick and makes his way over to the couch, to watch something boring. Let me try one of those British shows, that’ll put me right to sleep.

MJ is so nervous he keeps looking at his wrist, which isn’t even housing a watch. Somehow, 12:30 sneaks up on him. He’s gotta get the keys and tell someone that he heard the message. “MJ” a familiar voice yells. “Dr. Pennington wants you to drive his X5 to his house. Its only a few miles from here. Around 1pm”.

“10-4 Mark”, MJ replies.

He pulls the car up, waiting until he sees little Tyson driving that big truck, and there he is. A casual wave and they’re underway. MJ’s heart starts racing. So, he slows his breathing and relaxes his neck and shoulders. Just like they taught him in the Army. He pulls to the back exit and waits. There’s the Audi and here comes Tyson right behind me. He pulls out onto Dillway and takes a right onto Ashley River; the Audi moves quickly behind Tyson. There’s a fleet of cop cars sitting in the lot at the Berry Patch café and MJ has never been so delighted in his entire life to see the police. They block the intersection and several more cars block the road from behind. MJ sees police swarm the Audi with their guns drawn. A cop taps on his window and tells him to quickly drive to the left around the roadblock. Once back at Dr. P’s, Tyson tells them that the guys were yelling and pointing at the car screaming something about property, he thinks.

Dr. P ushers the guys over to a computer screen and pulls up a recording from the backup cam of the truck. “They have our property”. Its very clear. The three look at each other and head to the garage for a closer look at the BMW. Tyson goes to open the door. “Wait”, MJ starts. “If there was something inside the car, our guys would’ve probably found it”. The young men get on the ground and start looking under the car with cell phone flashlights. MJ reaches up near the back passenger wheel well and removes a magnetic key hider. He slides out and hands it up to Dr. P. “That’s not mine”, he says. My big key wouldn’t even fit in this thing. He slides the case forward and reveals a small silver flash drive.

The three get back to the computer and Dr. P loads the file. It’s a video. After three nervous looks, Dr. P hits play. It looks like a warzone. Wait. Its protesters and they’re being stormed and beaten by what looks like riot police. This is bad. “Hit pause. Can you take a screen shot of that guy, his uniform”? Dr. P does so and zooms in. It reads “World Bank Peacekeepers”. Oh shit. The World Bank just got into the government and mercenary business. This is what the guys in the Audi were after.

“Why do you have this Dr. P? Where did it come from”, states MJ?

“It came from your shop fool”, Dr. P raises his voice.

“There was a raid at the shop last week. They took a couple of guys. One of them must’ve panicked and stuck it under your car”, says MJ. And now were holding evidence of a brutal government crackdown of a peaceful protest. And there are four pissed off revolutionaries in this City blaming us for their treatment”.