The temperatures soared to a hundred and two degrees that afternoon. Zach sat on the steps of his trailer with a pitcher of water and a book. He was reading a new best-seller called Gone With The Wind. There wasn’t much to do during his down-time other than read or go see a movie in town.
He tried looking inconspicuous as he glanced up from his book every few minutes while keeping a close eye on Sullivan’s trailer.
After waiting for nearly forty-five minutes, Sullivan finally sauntered out from his trailer. Zach watched as he stood on the top step. He removed his cigar from his mouth, coughed up some phlegm, and then spat. A string of saliva clung to his chin. He wiped it with the back of his hand and returned the cigar back to his mouth. Pig.
Zach continued to watch as Sullivan went on his merry way. Then he checked to see that no one else was around watching. When the coast was clear, he ran as fast as he could go to Sullivan’s trailer, scrambled up the steps, and slipped inside.
Once inside, he quickly shut the door behind him. He immediately checked the window. When he turned and scanned the room, he noticed clothes were thrown loosely on the floor. There where flies crawling on the rims of the beer bottles lined up on what appeared to be a desk. There was also a strong odor of stale beer and cigars. Between the nasty odor and heat, it was difficult for Zach to breathe. He took shallow breaths through his mouth trying to avoid inhaling the repugnant odor. It was a horrible experience, but Zach was on a mission and had to push forward in order to succeed.
He began combing through the items on Sullivan’s desk, and when he came across a stained shirt, he removed it with a pencil. He tossed the shirt aside and discovered a pile of papers.
While Zach sorted through the pile, he found a moldy chicken drumstick; it almost made him sick.
After a minute of almost vomiting, Zach began to pull each drawer open and paw through the contents until ... Bingo! A grey metal money box was hiding in the bottom drawer. The box had no lock and when he opened the box his jaw dropped. Sweet baby Jesus!
In the box, stacks of cash were in rows. They were cramped together like sardines in a can. Zach figured there was nearly four thousand dollars there. Why you lousy rat bastard. You had all this money all this time and you were skimming from my pay. Now you’re gonna get it, you lousy welsh.
He closed the metal box and shut the drawer. Okay, now I know where he keeps it, he said to himself.
Just before he left the trailer, he checked the window again. His eyes widened in horror and anxiety flooded his brain. Sullivan was on his way back. Shit, shit, shit, think, think, think, what do I do?
Zach immediately looked for places to hide, but there weren’t any. For the first time in his life, he wished he was smaller than he was. He was desperate and even considered the window near the bed, but it was too high. Now, he wished he was taller. He became frantic. He knew if Sullivan found him in his trailer he’d, without a doubt, get the beating of his life.
He checked the window once more and saw one of the roadies named Gunther calling out to Sullivan. He was holding a cable in his hand. Sullivan stopped to talk to Gunther for a moment.
Zach knew this was his lucky break. It appeared they were discussing the broken cable and it was his only chance to get out. He knew if he didn’t go at that moment, he’d have some serious explaining to do. And explaining without any teeth wouldn’t be easy.
When Zach grabbed the doorknob, he noticed that his hand was trembling. He shook his hand and then turned the knob. He slowly pushed the door open and prayed nobody noticed him as he inched out the door.
While Sullivan examined the broken cable, Zach slid out the trailer door. He was as nervous as a cat, moving with tiptoe steps when he finally managed to make it down the stairs. Then he hit the ground running. Thank you Lord, I owe you one.
Zach decided that he would implement his master plan right away, but for it to work, he needed a few things first. He needed some wooden studs, a saw, a hammer, and some nails.
When Zach reached the roadie’s workshop area, it was vacant. He figured they were all at the chow area eating, and that he only had a few minutes. He immediately began his search, and after a few minutes he found all the items he needed and began his work. He started by cutting and nailing wooden studs together, and before he knew it, his makeshift ladder was completed. He inspected his superb workmanship and smiled. Now, I just need to hide it, until I need it.
He checked to see that the coast was clear, and when he saw that it was, he grabbed a hold of his ladder and dragged it all the way to his trailer. The ladder was much heavier than he expected, and by the time he reached his trailer, his arms ached. He then carefully slid the ladder underneath his trailer and ensured it was out of sight. Before he entered his trailer, he checked once again to ensure that nobody was watching. Good, still clear.
When he entered his trailer, Zach was thoroughly exhausted. He slowly cranked the handle to his phonograph, and his favorite Caruso record began to play. He poured himself a shot of a whiskey and downed it. Then he removed an overnight bag from under his bed and began to pack his clothes. Phase one complete.