two strangers, one heist

“A bobby pin works better, you know,” a girl says.

I whirl around, so startled by her presence that I drop the metal wire. She grins, glowing with pride from having caught me in the act. 

“Wha–”

“Shh!” She glances down the alley. “You wouldn’t want anyone to hear you, now would you?”

She approaches me with nimble steps, removes a black pin from her hair, which comes loose in wild curls. She holds the pin out to me, but when I reach for it, she snatches it away. There’s that smile again. 

“Make yourself useful and keep watch.” She gently shoves me aside, inserts the pin and begins to fiddle with the padlock on the door.

Nothing.

“You sure you don’t need–"

“Shut up, thief.”

I swallow hard and glance around. People pass by on the street perpendicular to the alley, their shadows dancing beneath them. They laugh and converse, but they don’t notice us trying to break into the back entrance of the glass store. 

“Almost…got it…” Click!

The padlock comes loose. I slip into the dark storage room behind her.

Who is she? Where did she come from? Can I trust her not to rat me out? I am about to split when she turns on her heel and whispers, “The good stuff is in a safe in the hallway.”

I furrow my eyebrows. “How do you know that?”

“Not my first rodeo, Cowboy. C’mon.”

I follow her down the narrow hallway leading towards the front of the store. I tap her arm, nodding towards the voices. We aren’t alone. I can hear the owner talking to customers. The only thing that separates us from the store is a thick curtain. 

She’s unfazed, just flashes me that same mischievous smile, her eyes glowing in the darkness. “You scared or something?”

She takes a few more steps down the hall and sure enough, a metal safe is built into the wall. Another padlock. She squats in front of it and begins to work her magic. 

Suddenly, the voices grow louder. Footsteps. We freeze, watching the moving shadows behind the curtain, hearts pounding. After a moment, they move away, laughing. She continues to pick the lock until it gives way.

Who is this girl?

My jaw drops when she swings open the door of the safe. In it are three beautiful glass chalices. Vintage, no doubt. Rare. Next to those, a crystal vase, its rim lined with diamonds. We carefully remove the treasures. She takes off her backpack, wraps the chalices in a ratty t-shirt and tucks them into the bag. Just as I am pulling out the vase, the voices grow louder. Footsteps.

“Let me check the back room! Hold on a moment.”

The curtain flies open and an older man, the store owner, lays eyes on us thieves. He yells and runs towards us, but he’s no match. We sprint out the back door in a flash, hauling down the alley towards the street. Vase in hand, I follow her as she takes a quick left, races down the road, dodges down another alley, into a backyard, through a side gate, new street. We don’t stop running until we reach the park four blocks away. In the cover of darkness, we hide beneath the playground, catching our breath. When we do, we burst out laughing.

Who is this girl?

“Not bad for a night’s work,” she says, pulling a chalice out of her bag. “This set is probably worth $500 in and of itself. That vase has to be $700, at least.”

Between heavy exhales, I ask, “Who are you?”

Her eyes are green and vibrant. A rascal if I’ve ever seen one. Not a bad partner in crime.

“I’m Chrissy. Who are you?”

“I’m Sam,” I lie.

She smirks and crosses her arms. “You keep cool. This ain’t your first rodeo either, I assume. Now tell me your real name.”

I smirk back. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

~julia