The Narrator

Cam pressed his thumb into the buzzer, stepped back, and listened for the approaching patter of footsteps against marble floors. The house loomed three elegant stories above him, and Cam admired all the beautiful details of its construction. The house looked as though it were brand-new, although the architecture suggested it was an ancient Greek palace. Cam tried to guess how much it was worth, but laughed at the thought. It didn’t matter; he could never afford such a place. Through the thick doors Cam heard the approach of footsteps followed by the squeak and heavy thud of what sounded like a deadbolt the size of his arm.


Standing there was a large burly man who let his eyes crawl over Cam before locking them on the black duffle bag that hung around his shoulder. The man gave Cam a large grin that although was warm, was also intimidating in its own way.
“Welcome, Cam.” he said, as he gestured him inside. Cam hesitated only for a moment before entering the towering mansion. Cam had never seen this man before, and his eerie warm behaviour made Cam uncomfortable. The last time he was here, the guard who had ushered him in had been distinctly Italian man with long shaggy hair and an expensive looking suit. This man looked American, was bald, and wore a silk polo with jeans.
“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Cam said as he extended his hand. Without returning the gesture, the man said, “And I don’t foresee us meeting again. Please follow me, he’s waiting.”
As Cam followed the man through the house, he couldn’t help but admire the tall ceilings, the numerous paintings and sculptures, or the spicy scent that drifted off the mahogany paneled walls. The burly man stopped in front of a set of doors and knocked. The knock echoed through the stretching hallway and suggested that the doors were extremely thick and heavy. The man turned, looked at a small camera that hung from the ceiling, and said, “Its Cam, he’s got it.” There was a pause before Cam heard a click and the guard pushed the door open with one of his large paws. He gave Cam one more creepy grin before saying, “The Don will see you now.”


Eric sunk deeply into the cushion of his seat and looked down at the packages of drugs that lay on the table in front of him.
“Do you know what this is?” said a man from the other side of the desk. His tone suggested that he better know exactly what the packages were. It was a tone of pure business, and this man reeked of business. If the mansion that he lived in wasn’t enough evidence of this, the expression which seemed permanently etched into the stone of his face would have been enough. He had a chiseled jaw and a mouth that seemed incapable of smiling. Perched on top of high cheek bones, his eagle like eyes constantly watched and evaluated. They called him ‘The Don’.
Eric picked up one of the packages and brought it a little closer for inspection.
“Yes, it’s cocaine.” He said confidently as he placed the package back onto the table. The Don’s eyes dug into Eric before he said bluntly, “No.” Eric twitched in his seat a little, letting the silence that followed shame him. The Don pressed his gaze into the space in between Eric’s eyes and let time drag. Eric’s composure broke and leaning forward, hands clasped together he begged The Don, “Please don’t kill me. I will repay every cent. I promise!” The Don ignored him and continued,
“What you’re looking at is not just cocaine. It’s the best cocaine money can buy-” The Don paused, and for a moment Eric thought he saw the crack of a smile flash on his face before he continued, “- and you’re going to sell it for me.”
Becoming noticeably uncomfortable, Eric shifted in the thick cushioned seat gaining his composure back while picking his words carefully.
“What I say next, is only because of the pure respect I have for you and your business. I don’t know anything about drugs. I’ve never sold drugs before. And it is only because I respect you and your business, that I think someone else would be better for this job.” Eric said nervously, taking a moment to shift some more in his seat before concluding, “It’s just, I don’t trust myself. I don’t want to fail you my Don.” Eric’s eyes welled up with tears.
“Please. I will pay you back, I swear.” The Don leaned forward and pressed his eyes deeper into Eric.
“It’s interesting that you mention trust Eric. Because in a business like mine, trust is all a man has. If you do not trust yourself, then how could I ever trust you? I would have no need for you.” The Don paused to make sure Eric understood what he meant and continued,  “So Eric, why don’t you go out there and give me a reason to trust you?”


Cam leaned against a rusty old locker, nervously playing with a key as he waited in the change room, turning it over in his hands. He was lucky to still have hands he thought to himself as he evaluated his current situation. The knot in his stomach tightened and the inner conflict between what he wanted to do and what he must do raged. Oh how he wanted to run away, jump on a plane and never come back. But Cam knew that eventually they could, and would, find him.
An elderly gentleman rounded the corner and opened a locker a few down from Cam’s. The old man had just come from the showers and began drying himself off while Cam continued to stare off into space.
“You gay or something?” the old man snapped at Cam. Cam’s thought process abruptly ended and his focus shifted towards the old man.
“You gonna’ just stand there and watch me change? You a fag or something?” the old man said angrily. Cam was taken off guard and didn’t know what to say, until he reminded himself of why he was here. Taking a step towards the old man he said, “What the fuck did you just say to me?” The old man could see Cam’s anger, could sense violence, and without saying a word, wrapped his towel around his mid-section and shuffled his way out of the change room, still dripping wet.
Cam felt bad for intimidating the old man but he had to get into character. Any minute, someone would walk into the change room with a bag full of drugs and demand money from him. Although Cam had never done anything like this before, he was quite certain that people who dealt drugs were dangerous and the last thing he wanted was to look like someone asking to be taken advantage of.
Almost as if on cue, a man walked into the change room carrying a duffle bag exactly like the one Cam had locked in the locker beside him.


An old man shuffled past Eric as he entered the change room, looking around at the paint peeling off the concrete walls and at the rusty rows of lockers. The room stank of chlorine and was empty save for the man who looked like he had no business in a change room at all. Eric caught his gaze, and the two nodded in recognition. Puffing out his chest, Eric approached the man.
The two looked at each other in what were the most unsure moments of both men’s lives. Neither seemed to know how to address the other. The man broke the awkward silence and asked, “What you got in that bag of yours?” Eric deepened his voice, and replied, “That depends on what you have.”
“Oh right!” said the man as he turned around, and with shaky hands, opened one of the rusty lockers. The man took out an identical black duffle bag and handed it to Eric. Nodding towards Eric’s bag, the man said, “And yours.”
Each man opened the others bag right then and there, inspecting that all contents were present.
“Hey” the man said angrily. Eric looked up and saw a pair of eyes filled with tears of fear and anger staring him down.
“I gave you forty-thousand. I need two kilos.”
“It’s fifty-thousand for one.” Eric replied. He was afraid, who knew what this man would do for his drugs.
“Look, I’ve been guaranteed that it’s the best stuff out there. It’s worth fifty-thousand.”
The man grabbed Eric by the shirt collar and threw him up against a row of lockers, a handle digging itself into his back.
“Listen mother fucker, I need two kilos. I need them. You don’t understand, I’m in a lot of trouble here. I fucking need them.” Eric shoved the man off him, sending him backwards into his own set of lockers.
“I don’t fucking have two kilos.” Eric said. Silence filled the change room as the pair looked at each other, the reality of their situation slowly sinking in.


The pair of men stood not two arms lengths away from each other, unsure of what to do as they watched each other. Cam watched the drug dealer eyeing him up, and he knew that something was about to go down. Cam slid his hand backwards, steady now with the flow of adrenaline, and slowly tried to make a grab for the switch blade he had put in his back pocket. He was filled with a sense of relief that he had brought it along with him. ‘I knew it’ he thought to himself, ‘I knew he was going to try and fuck me – fucking drug dealer’. But before Cam could get the knife out from his back pocket, the drug dealer made a dive for his duffle bag.
A fist coming out of nowhere hit Cam in the jaw, sounding more like a slap than a thud. In a slight daze Cam saw the man grab both duffle bags and make a sprint for the door.
“Oh no you don’t!” Cam shouted as he jumped towards the drug dealer. Grabbing a hold of one of the duffle bags, he swung his weight to one side and sent the drug dealer tumbling into a wall. The duffle bags skid across the floor, and some of the money scattered into the air like confetti. Cam jumped on top of the man, mounted his torso, and began hitting him in the face. The drug dealer managed to get one of his hands free from under Cam’s groin and used it to shield his face. Neither of the two were big men, and Cam had never been into a fight before. As his punches bounced off his face, the drug dealer pleaded, “Please”. Cam popped him right in the nose, sending a thin trickle of blood pouring down the man’s upper lip.
“You don’t-” he said. Cam threw another punch, but the drug dealer grabbed his wrist with his free hand.
“Please, you don’t understand!” he yelled as the two wrestled, for control.
“Fuck you, you no good drug dealer!” Cam yelled back. The man was stronger than he looked and was able to throw Cam off his midsection. The two rolled around pathetically for a moment before either was able to get up. The drug dealer rushed Cam, and pounced at him. The two slammed backwards into a set of lockers, rattling the whole row.
And then it stopped. The two just looked at each other. Cam watched as the drug dealer’s eyes widened into disbelief, while a look of shock and terror swept over Cam’s face. In the fight, Cam had managed to get his switch blade loose, and looking down, he saw it lodged into the drug dealer’s chest. The drug dealer fell backwards and lay bleeding on the floor.
“You…you ran into me!” Cam accused. Looking around the change room, Cam yelled at nobody, “He ran into me!”
At that moment, the old man shuffled his way back into the change room, but stopped when he saw Cam standing bloody with the knife.
“Oh my god!” the old man screamed. Throwing his hands into the air, his towel fell to the ground, and the old man ran naked out of the change room.
With tears streaming down his cheeks, Cam picked up what money he could find, threw everything into one duffle bag and ran as fast and as hard as he could.


The Don sat behind a large oak desk, and motioned Cam to come in. As Cam approached, he noticed the shaggy haired Italian that he remembered from before standing in the corner. Before Cam was able to take a seat The Don said to him,
“And what do you have for me here? Hmm?”
Cam lowered himself into the cushioned seat and placed the duffle bag on the desk between them.
“There was a problem. The guy didn’t have two kilo’s, but I was able to get you one kilo, and I was able to keep all the money you gave me.” Cam said as he unzipped the bag to show The Don what was inside.
“See? It’s all there.” he pleaded.
“And how did you go about getting one kilo for free?” The Don asked.
“I ugh…” Cam’s voice trailed off.
“You killed him?”
Cam nodded silently, his head lowering in shame.
“Yes.”
“That’s wonderful! You just saved me the trouble!” he said enthusiastically. Cam looked up to see The Don smiling at him, his grin beamed from ear to ear. It seemed so unnatural on his hardened face.
“What?” Cam asked.
“His name was Eric, and he was in a situation just like yours Cam.”
“But the drugs-” Cam sputtered, “The money!”
The Don laughed, and it was a whole hearted laugh that caused him to lean backwards and grab his stomach in the process.
“I don’t give a fuck about your kilo of flour or your pocket change!” The Don managed to say between chuckles. Then, after only a moments notice, The Don became all business again. Leaning forward in his seat he let his eagle eyes dig themselves into Cam’s face.
“You know what I do care about though?” he teased. Letting time drag he gave Cam a chance to answer. When only silence answered him, he continued, “No? It’s Respect. And when a man says he’s going to do something and doesn’t, do you know what that is Cam?”
Cam’s eyes darted between The Don and the Italian who had inched his way calmly over to his side. Unable to think of anything to say, his mind whirred in confusion. The Don recognized this and continued.
“It’s called disrespect Cam, and it’s a bitch. And you Cam, you fucked me. You disrespected me when you failed to pay me back what was owed to me.”
“Please, I never meant-” Cam started.
“Shut up!” The Don shouted before continuing, “I don’t believe a damn word you say. You already fucked me once Cam. And in a business like mine, trust is all a man has.”
The Don turned and nodded at the Italian who stood motionless, awaiting his cue.
“Trust is a trade-off Cam, and I just wanted you to know what it felt like to be on the shit end of the stick before I killed you.” he said. Giving him one last nod, The Don said calmly, “Goodbye Cam.”