Micah Jennings

2.6.05 Sunday [the solution]

I spent a good portion of last night trying to come up with a solution to the problem that Reginald had brought up. If my victims ever get in contact, they’ll certainly make the connection and lock me up. The goal was to come up with a plan that would keep the person quiet about their returned money. For hours I twisted under the sheets, shoveling through my thoughts to find the perfect answer. It didn’t come.

This morning, as I hovered groggily over a bowl of corn flakes, I noticed Aaron sitting at his computer. He was grumbling about having to “clean crap up,” apparently some reference to his position as a moderator. I decided to ask him what he thought of my dilemma. He said,

“Why don’t you just tell them not to report it?”
I scoffed at the idea. “Just walk in there, hand them the money, and beg them not to ‘tell’ on me? That’ll work.”
“You don’t have to do it face-to-face, Micah.”
“What?”
“Leave a note or something, or type it, if you’re scared to leave fingerprints or whatever.”

How was it, I thought, that after a night of intense brainstorming, my solution finally arrived from Aaron, who, through divided attention, still took barely took ten seconds? Could it really be so simple?

“That’s ridiculous,” I lied. “It’ll never work.”
With that I threw my bowl in the sink, retreated to my room, and began writing out a note:

To whom is may concern,

I apologize for any troubles that the absence of this money may have caused. I have returned it in full. I only ask that it please not be reported to the news. I am trying to get my life straightened out, and further publicity will make this difficult.

Thanks,
Mi—

I scratched it out and wrote: “Mr. Uncatchable”

Satisfied, I returned to Aaron.
“Hey, let me use the computer when you get a second,” I said with as much nonchalance as I could manage.
“Yeah, just a minute. I’m sending a warning to one of the members.”
“What for?”
“He keeps mentioning “using parkour for crime”.”
“Tell him it’s profitable, and a pretty cool rush.”
Aaron got a laugh out of that, hitting “send” on the screen and getting up.
“Oh, by the way, printer’s out of paper.”
“Thanks,” I responded, grabbing a stack of white sheets and sliding them into the tray.
“Yeah, I would’ve typed it too,” he quipped, walking off.

Once I’d delivered the two bundles of cash along with the notes, I headed to Reginald’s, where I nervously waited to see if the story would air.

It didn’t, and we both were able to breathe with relief. It isn’t over yet, but it’s getting close, and only nine deliveries remain!

-M.J.

posted by Mr. Linty @ 10:58 PM