In the Driver's Seat Read online



  In the Driver’s Seat

  By Janise N. Smith

  Copyright 2012 Janise N. Smith

  In the Driver’s Seat

  By

  Janise N. Smith

  A brand new Ford Expedition with a set of keys on the front seat.

  Tower tried to keep walking away but the shiny keys seemed to glow under the faint glare from the distant streetlight. The pair was just too inviting and irresistible to leave behind, causing him to go back and peek through the window once more. It was almost like they were waiting there just for him. The large parking lot was row to row cars without a person in sight. He walked completely around the truck once again for a full inspection.

  He had to have it.

  He looked around for anyone walking toward the lot from the giant bingo hall that sat between the liquor store and the alley that led to the back of his friend’s house. He then moved swiftly toward the alley to a pile of old broken furniture and tires where he found an iron rod and carried it back to the Expedition. After carefully looking around again, he raised the rod and struck the back passenger window with three quick blows before it made a hollow popping sound. It shattered and the pieces dropped onto the seat behind the driver’s side. His heart raced faster than his body could get into the front seat where he fumbled with the keys. He sat still for what seemed like two hour-long minutes, listening to his own speeding pulse beat loudly in his ears. He started up the Expedition. The sound of the new engine was like soft music. He drove out of the parking lot and onto the street heading in the opposite direction of his friend’s house. He knew that Jake was waiting for him to bring back their beers, but Tower wasn’t interested in that type of buzz. He was riding on the high from the scent of new interior, the beauty of the unscathed dashboard, the softness of the leather seats, and the sight of his ruffled sandy brown hair in the rearview mirror. He wanted to drive to Jake’s house and show his pal his new wheels but Jake lived too close to the bingo hall. Tower knew he had to keep going south until he could figure out what to do with his new toy. In nineteen years he had never stolen a car before, just small things like beer, cigarettes, jewelry, and a few dollars here and there. This was his biggest claim yet. He didn’t know where to go first. He knew he had to hide the SUV while he decided what he wanted to do with it.

  Tower slowed the Expedition as he approached the intersection and stopped for the red light. He began to push the radio preset buttons to find a station he liked.

  “Don’t move!”

  A large man with skin close to the shade of the night sky and draped in gold jewelry suddenly jumped inside the automobile while Tower waited for the traffic light to change. The gun in the black man’s hand pointed at him like an accusing finger. Tower had instantly become a human statue, a permanent fixture in his seat unable to react.

  “What the hell are you starin’ at? Drive!”

  The statue came to life and looked up into the green hue of the traffic signal.

  “I said drive or I’ll blow your damn head off!”

  Tower’s foot left the brake and shakily jammed the accelerator. The Expedition jerked its passengers back into their seats.

  “You tryin’ to give me whiplash, boy?”

  Tower tried to keep his eyes on the road but couldn’t help glancing at the gun pointed at his chest.

  “What’s a little fool like you doing in a man’s ride?” The black man chuckled as he stared at Tower’s leg stretched out, barely reaching the gas pedal with the tip of his shoe.

  Tower’s voice was hiding somewhere deep in his throat. He tried to concentrate on his driving, but kept cursing himself for leaving the truck unlocked. He had always heard of carjacking but getting carjacked in a stolen car was never heard of.

  “Turn here!”

  Tower drove onto the highway as directed.

  “Why are you driving so damn slow?”

  Tower picked up speed, wondering where they were going. Was he going to be killed over someone else’s car? He gripped the wheel tighter to keep his hands from shaking. The wind began to whistle through the broken window and the cool air of the evening gave him a sudden chill. There had to be a way he could escape with his life. He thought about driving off the road or into the median, but that would put his own life at risk. There was no way he could overpower the large menacing figure in the seat next to him with the even more menacing weapon in his hand.

  “What the hell are you doin’?”

  Tower jumped at the roar of the gunman’s voice as it filled the vehicle.

  “Don’t even think about tryin’ nothing. Just keep drivin’ until I tell you to stop, understand?”

  Tower barely nodded.

  “I can’t hear you!”

  “Yeah, okay,” weakly escaped from his mouth.

  “Why you keep shakin’? You scared?” The gunman smiled as he shoved his calling card into Tower’s rib cage. “You ever been shot before? I heard it hurts like hell,” the gunman replied.

  “You can have the car, man! Just take it!” Tower suddenly blurted out.

  “I know that shit!”

  Tower noticed bright lights in the side mirror from the corner of his eye. Flashing lights suddenly lit up the Expedition from the rear. Relief and panic intertwined themselves inside of Tower instantaneously as he glanced into the rearview mirror at the police car following closely behind them. He tried to keep the wheel steady as he noticed the gunman turn to peer out of the back window.

  “Pull over.”

  “What?” Tower said. Confusion eroded through the relief and panic combo like a deadly plague.

  “Are you deaf? I said pull over!”

  Tower skidded over to the gravel and came to a stop.

  “Follow my lead and keep your damn mouth shut,” the gunman ordered.

  Doom’s shadow hung over Tower’s hopes as he watched the stranger tuck the gun under his seat. He couldn’t understand why a carjacker would want to stop for the police. Was he planning to shoot the officer when he approached them? Then Tower would either be an accessory to murder or be killed himself. After all, he was driving the stolen getaway car. He couldn’t tell the police he was being carjacked—it wasn’t his car.

  Tower sat back and tried to remain calm while another black man, this one in uniform, turned a flashlight on in his face.

  “You were going kind of fast, don’t you think?”

  Tower didn’t know what to say and then he heard a strange voice ask, “Were we, officer?”

  The gunman leaned forward to face the officer. He sounded so calm and relaxed that Tower had to look at him to make sure it was the same person that had been threatening him the entire ride.

  “I need both of you to get out of the vehicle, slowly.”

  Tower watched as the gunman obliged the order, and then did the same. He stood next to the officer while the giant gunman walked around the front of the SUV and stood looking down at both of them.

  “Driver’s license and registration, please.”

  The gunman, without hesitation, whipped out a wallet and handed the officer the contents requested.

  Tower stood wide-eyed as the officer read under the glow of his flashlight.

  “I thought I recognized you. You own those fitness centers in Richmond and Hampton,” the officer replied.

  “That’s right. I was just letting my neighbor take a spin in my new truck,” the gunman casually explained.

  Tower felt like all the blood in his body was rushing down toward his feet and his head began to feel like it was full of feathers instead of brain mass. He longed to understand what was happening to him.

  “I’ll let you go this time. Maybe I can get a
discount on a membership for me and my son.”

  The gunman smiled. “No problem. I’ll give you a good deal.”

  The officer flashed his light on the truck.

  “This is nice,” he replied.

  Tower hoped the officer would notice the few pieced of jagged glass surrounding the broken window in the back, but he didn’t. He let them get back into the Expedition. The gunman laughed as the officer drove off.

  “I was dropping my mother off at the bingo hall when she accidently locked my keys in the car,” the gunman began to explain, “so I had my step-brother come and take me back home so I could get my extra set. I was on my way back when we spotted my brand new SUV pass by with a little punk behind the wheel. We followed you until you stopped at that light. That police officer, by the way, is my step-brother.”

  Tower felt himself shrinking as the nightmare of events were detailed to him.

  “Do you want to know what’s really funny?”

  Tower didn’t want to know, but he decided to listen as the gun was pulled out from under the seat and pointed at his groin.

  “I could blow your balls off right now and be justified. You stole my ride and got caught. Then you attacked me so I had to defend myself.”

  The gun inched closer to Tower’s crotch as he backed against the car door.

  “You got any money?” The gunman suddenly asked. He reached over with his free hand, grabbed Tower’s pants and yanked him around like he was a life-size rag doll. He dug his way through Tower’s pockets snatching out bills.

  “Eighty dollars, that’s all? You probably stole this money, didn’t you? This can go towards the new window you owe me. You still owe me for burning up my gas. Now, take off those pants.”

  Tower squinted as he tried to look for an explanation in his captor’s face.

  “Didn’t I just say take off those damn pants?”

  Whimpering and watching the gun still pointed at his groin, Tower pulled down his pants and slid them over his feet.

  “See what happens when you take something that doesn’t belong to you?”

  Tower tried not to tremble as he stared at the gunman.

  “Get out of my car before I decide to put a bullet in you, just because!”

  Tower quickly opened the door and jumped out of the truck wearing only his shirt and underpants. He ran into the woods leaving behind his pride along with his pants inside the brand new Expedition.

  # # # #

  About the author:

  Janise N. Smith is a freelance writer, novelist and word puzzle designer residing in Raleigh, North Carolina. She is the owner of J.N.S. Writing Services, LLC and enjoys jazz, reading and cooking in her spare time.

  Connect with me online:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janise.n.smith

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/JNSWriter