Sheets of Black

•Chapter 1

Roots

Awaken every morning, perplex with bitterness; was an individual who prioritizes his goals in achieving the dreams his family makes a mockery of. One certain of knowing, people born without a creative mentality become pessimistic throughout their everlasting life endeavors. Praises held highly do not seem odd. Dying alone is a mysterious ponder. Suffering in your own sorrow effects the environment around you, leading some to wonder why the frequency mutes these surroundings. If you have shot a gun without ear plugs, you would know the wavelengths are similar. My environment has never been affluent, let alone successful.

Art structures our world, all around. Creators aren’t gratified the ownership. Employees are degenerates. CEO’s are greedy. Diversity’s involved with government. The economy needs healing more than it needs saving. In a small city west of the United States, located in the middle of the Nevada desert, there are skyscrapers of people who do not like to sleep & abandoned houses hoarded by bums who can’t stop doing drugs. Women sell sex, men sell women, women sell men, women sell women. Passion kills ambition, ambition kills habits. Habits form when you get to comfortable. The ghetto is underestimated. Approaching a dream becomes a fantasy, I yearn fantasies. Dismissed as a fanatic, what’s wrong with believing in what’s abnormal? Being normal doesn’t sell. Being weird does, & “weird” has many interpretations. For instance, there’s creepy weird, anti socially weird, creative weird, smart weird, random weird, blatantly weird, etc. Originality has it perks once it’s categorized with classical aesthetic. Other than that, be who you are because you’re your own weird. Nothing’s far fetched, not even money. Money, money, money. We all love it, we all hate it, we all want it, we all need it.

•Chapter 2

Grid

I arrived at a nameless bar not too far from Groom Lake. I stopped for directions when a pretty young woman immediately grabbed my attention. In her mesmerizing voice, she asked my choice of poison. The tone in her voice was calm, light, soothing, a perfect combination of tremble and harmony.

Not too high pitched and not too low. She carried a name tag spelling Kathleen. People at the bar were chattering over how stupid a congressman was for misplacing $20,000 the night before after having sex in the bathroom with one of the porters. Apparently he had too many glasses of wine. For most people, when it rains it pours. For the rich, champagne showers. He almost forgot he was cheating on his wife. After a brief conversation with Kathleen and listening to everybody around me, I took my last sip of cabernet, tipped her a twenty and walked outside. Glanced over at this man wearing a bandana around his head. My phone was about to die and I was worried I would not find my way back to the highway. I built up the courage to ask him for directions and complimented him on his shoes. You could tell by his outfit and his car he had money. He carried a unique scent, his cologne was rich. Smelt like a fresh stack of money. He told me highway 93 was 15 minutes away if I take the dirt path east. I had to ask what he did for a living.

•Chapter 3

Interesting

He said, “Logistics & Supply Chain. I day trade, and invested in Hertz before the stock market dropped.”

I said, “What did you do with the money?”

“Opened a music casino.”

“Music casino?” I said.

“Yeah. Jukeboxes, slot machines structured as instruments, restaurant menus with meals named after famous artists. Live music, night clubs, cannabis smoke rooms, water park, you get the picture yet?” He said.

“Who sold you a dream?” I said.

He made a joke about the creases on my shoes and said, “I haven’t had that problem in 16 years. You need a job? Yes or no? Make it simple.”

We stared at each other for at least 40 seconds. My intuition wasn’t discouraged. I l knew better than to pass up the opportunity. I said, “yes.”

He reached in his glove compartment. Handed me a blue business card saying “Carat Inc.” There was an address in cursive with a logo of 3 diamonds. He said, “be here at 4:47 a.m. don’t be late.”

I saw him get in his Lexus. He rolled his window down, synced his bluetooth, lit his cigar, gave me the peace sign, then drove off aggressively.

I watched him from a distance drive away. I looked down at the card one last time and flicked it with my finger.

Looked up at the sunset, shook my head and got in my car.

•Chapter 4

City

I pulled into a deserted lot, parked, took a deep breathe, turned my engine off, wiped my face from exhaustion and let out a sigh. Continued to drive after my anxiety went away. I could see the city lights 40 miles afar. Vegas. Las Vegas. I have a love/hate relationship for this city. My entire familes origin. Movies make it seem more glamorous than it is. A lifestyle treating all your desires. A mimic of fame. A big high school. Imagine that. I don’t know what high school was like for you, for us it was trauma, gang wars, murder, suicide, pregnancy, ditch parties, concerts, raves, strip clubs, pimping, escorting, trafficking, dropping out & graduating. Vegas is everything you can imagine. Only because it’s so diverse, it’s an entertainment capital with 49.5 million tourists visiting every year from all over the world. People love Vegas simply for the fact no body judges you. We all don’t seem care, about anything. Of course, genuine people exist. If you’re smart, you’ll stay discreet and realize keeping to yourself is better than trusting anybody in the town. My phone vibrated notifying me I had to charge my phone. I doubt it’ll live long enough for me to get home.

•Chapter 5

Ghetto

I stay in the hood. An urban neighborhood to be exact. Impressions are hard to get from people you look up to. We all choose our path. I chose money. Selling golf balls at 10 years old for $0.75 cents each. On weekends i’d get lucky at the swap meet, other days I wouldn’t. I remember the first $50 I earned. I stared at the money and thought, “that’s all I have to do?” I bought a pair of shoes that week. Eventually I became a juvenile. Dropped out as a junior with 1 credit and chased my dreams of being an artist. At 23 I learned stocks. An old co-worker named Miguel taught me. He had a rich cousin who was a broker on Wall street. He suggested i’d buy a few shares from Gap since someone his cousin’s fond of signed a 10 year collaboration deal with them to launch their new fashion catalogue. I needed more information on the owner.

Finally arrived to the house. Locked my car, unlocked my front door, walked over to the kitchen, opened the fridge, grabbed the half bottle of Josh I hadn’t finished the night before and poured the wine slowly into my glass.

Chapter 6

Calling

3 a.m. my alarm went off. Dramatically grabbed my phone, pressed snooze, took a long stretch and uttered under my breathe, “why would anybody wake up this early?”

I called the number on the card the man had gave me, nobody picked up the phone. Took a shower, made breakfast and paced toward the car. Sun wasn’t even out yet, it’s 40 degrees. My coat isn’t thick enough to keep me warm. Took me 20 minutes to get to my destination. I looked at the card and realized there wasn’t a name on it. Only an address, the companies logo, and a signature saying “Chief Executive Officer.” Made me dwell on the thought that i never asked for his name. He looked hispanic, tall guy, at least 6 foot, slim, deep voice, well groomed. The casino I walked into had black lights stripping the edges of the building. I asked a hostess where i could find the man who handed me the card. She had no idea what I was referring to. A blackjack dealer winked at me, she pointed across the room. I noticed the man was sitting down at a crap table waiting for me. I walked towards him and sat down once the dealer flipped the marker back over to “OFF.” He said, “You ready?”

I said, “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He scuffled and said, “Wise man. Follow me.”

We took an elevator down to ground level. Below the first floor. Who puts a casino underground? The doors opened, everything in front of me was white. An empty room with absolutely nothing in it. He handed me a little black book.

Chapter 7

Black book

Across the cover of the black book said, “Crazy Ideas.” With 3 triangles facing upside down, blending together.

“What do I do with this?” I said.

He said, “Inside are instructions breaking down how you’re going to find me my kin. I hired a lousy congressman to do me a simple gesture. All he had to do was deliver $20,000 dollars to one of my colleagues. He couldn’t partake the responsibility. That’s why you saw me at the bar.”

He paused. Took five confident steps to his right, reached in his coat pocket, pulled out a cigar and fumed it. He turned my way continuing to speak.

“Consider this your first task. I’ll be providing you with a manilla folder carrying all his information which you’ll need to pick up at the address I wrote down on the first page. Find me that man, collect what is now your money, and make sure you bring him back to me in one peace. He’s family, just stupid. Understand?”

I nodded my head up and down as confirmation.

He said, “Good. Feel free to eat anything at the buffet before you leave. Show them the business card I gave you, they’ll know what’s going on.”

“Why me?” I asked.

“You remind me a little bit of myself. A little naive on your end, which isn’t an issue. Due in time i’ll sculpt you into a very rich man.” He finished.

•Chapter 8

Cash Out

Blueprint after blueprint. With every page I turned in the black book. Amazing how one man can produce million dollar thoughts and hide it from the world. Way more than an address. I picked up the manilla folder at a P.O. Box off of Nellis Boulevard and Vegas Valley Drive. Inside were coordinates. Entered them in my GPS and routed it. 30 minutes out. He stays in Blue Diamond on the southwest end of the city in a rich gated community called Rhodes Ranch. Security was hectic. I made it through impersonating a Lyft fare. A man was waiting for me outside the address. He waived me down, hand gestured me to open the back door & rushed himself in.

“What took you so long? I was convinced you were a lady.” He said.

I said, “Who are you? Where’s my money?”

He said, “Relax friend. Here. Take me to Gene.”

I pondered. “Gene. That’s his name.”

“Why are you so calm? How do I know you’re the right guy? He made it seem like I was going to have to put up a battle, you guy’s don’t have names? I said to him.

He said, “What other guy is going to hop into your car and hand you $20,000 dollars? My name’s Frank. Gene is Gene. He likes to remain anonymous to benefit his alter ego, I don’t know. That man’s a lunatic. He’s a great man at heart. My blood. He probably looked at you and thought you needed a break.”

I remained silent. Put my car in drive and arrived at the casino. Déjà Vu as I walking through the entrance and taking the elevator to ground level. This time when the doors opened, Gene was sitting down at a coffee table. People were taking escalators toward the sky. Frank paced ahead of me to give Gene a hug. They both looked back and saluted me. I stood there confused. They disappeared. Static went off. The room was empty. I turned around, ran in the elevator & pressed the first floor. The doors opened, and I woke up.