Aftermath, p.4
Aftermath, page 4
I offered her lunch and we set a date. Her beautiful brown hair and her cute little self-bounced back with her friends after that. Do you mean that came back to the bar another time?
I had her name, her number, and her address so I could pick her up.
When I thought that was the best the evening could get, after I closed down the bar, the old man pulled me aside and told me that I was now the bar manager. This means he would be cutting back coming in and I would be responsible for everything. He joked about how he needs to start working less because his old bones were starting to get to him.
If you knew the old man like I got to, you would not have believed that. He was a machine and could probably outwork most machines. I only smiled and thanked him.
The following day, I went to free Tommy. I had a feeling that my past would stay buried, and I was going to be able to move on. So, when I walked into the Holcomb woods, I thought Tommy would have learned a lesson.
What I saw when I got about thirty feet away what the ground had a large indent. I knew that sight from when I went to the other holes. It was what happened when the holes collapsed in on themselves.
My heart dropped to my stomach. I walked faster and almost at a running pace to get there. I didn't have to move the rock or the plate this time. They had flipped off when the dirt on one side of the hole gave way.
I dug for Tommy, I dug and moved dirt for more than an hour. It looked as he got free since I could not find any sign of him. I could only guess that he risked my warning about the walls and wanted out at any cost.
My mind wondered if he would try to report me or what he would do. That is why I called Kyle and had him look into Tommy for me. I just told him that Tommy had not done anything, or I have not heard anything about him in some time.
What Kyle found out was that Tommy was found in Bowling Green walking around. All of his friends and family thought he lost his mind and checked him into the hospital. It was about four years before he got out.
When he did, he was convinced that he imagined it all. Even the fight he tried to have with me he believed was all in his head.
For me, that girl I had a date with is now my wife. We even have a little girl running around the yard playing with her younger brother.
It’s a good life and my past is dead.
I had become a normal guy. I became that guy you see in the store and don’t think anything about.
I am no longer the bar manager, but part owner. The old man comes in and we talk. He likes to talk about his old bones and my beautiful family. His arthritis had gotten to him, and he retired for the second time.
That old man one day asked me over for a glass of wine on a summer evening and asked how I took care of my problem all those years ago. I had never lied to the old man or my wife. So, I told him the whole story. What surprised me was how proud he seemed that I didn't back down.
To this day, the old man is the only one who knows. Now I guess you do too.
Chapter Three
The Father's Sins
An old grey-haired pastor sat in a church praying, which was not unusual for him. He was known for praying for long periods of time although no one knew what he was praying for or why he looked so sad while doing it. Whatever it was he prayed for, everyone respected him for his leadership and the faith he represented to them.
How would anyone know that his past held such horrors? His wife knew only bits of the pain from his past. She came with the old pastor from Northwest Ohio and moved down to Columbus, Ohio leaving their past and stories behind. Adam Byrd accepted an offer to work at his uncle’s church. He and his wife Jenny moved down to Columbus after she finished High School.
Adam’s Uncle married Adam and Jenny in his church with almost everyone he knew attending. There was only one person he knew that was not there and he knew why. It broke his heart, and as much as he wanted to say something, he knew better.
They had a good life and after a year of teaching in the church to the youth, the young couple decided to go to college for a bachelor’s theology and Divinity. They both were outstanding students and always made the dean’s list. They both held unique insights that their instructors enjoyed hearing.
When they finished their schooling, Jenny had a bachelor’s degree in theology, and a baby on the way. Adam had gained his Master’s in Divinity with honors. Everyone was proud of them and he was excited when he was asked to start a sister church in Cincinnati, Ohio.
That is where Adam, the new pastor eventually became the grey-haired pastor. Years later, the day came that his oldest son Scott had followed in Adam’s path and graduated from college with a Master’s in Divinity. Later that day, he found his father sitting in the back of his church, which is where he liked to sit. He always said it was where people like him tended to sit.
That same day is when Scott asked what he meant by “people like him.” Scott knew that the people who sat in the back of the church were those who felt they didn’t belong. Many times, the newcomers had fallen so far from grace, they simply didn’t know where else to go.
Adam with his lifetime of wisdom told Scott to sit and pray with him. Scott never told his father no on matters of praying. So, they sat there in silence and heads bowed. Then as if the words came from nowhere, Adam spoke. “I have not always been a man of God. When I was young, I counterfeited money and my best friend was a drug dealer. We had a lot of good times, but the day it all ended, I lost my best friend.
I remember one time when we got ourselves into some trouble. My friend Scott and I had just printed our first batch of perfect twenty-dollar bills. I mean, they looked like they came from the U.S. mint. You see, you were named after my friend Scott Bearman. I will get into that later.
The guy who trained us to do it and helped set up the operation was out of New York City. From what Scott told me, he was part of the mafia and needed a place for their operation with less people watching. Since Scott was selling drugs and running a network of dealers, his contact from New York decided to trust us, a couple of dumb kids.
Scott was making money from his drug sales, but he wanted something I could do and not get hurt from. We worked hard to learn what needed done and Scott lost a good amount of money as we practiced. Then came the day that a few stacks of fives and one-dollar bills got washed, dried, and reprinted to twenties.
Honestly, I was excited and so proud of what we did. I remember Scott saying how much easier things would get. He was right too. I gave up my part time job, and Scott stopped going out to sell drugs. Instead, he would just distribute to his intimate network and focused on what he called his little empire.
Then Scott decided we needed to test the money in public. That is when the first problem happened. We were told by the people in New York to never spend any of the money locally. They said it would get back to us and mess up the whole process we had going.
That left the option for us to go to Canada. Windsor was only a few hours’ drive. We could gamble, drink, and have a wild time. To two young guys with not a care in the world, it was the greatest idea either of us had. That was until we were twenty-four hours into our stay. You see, when you are betting a high and the wrong people notice, things can go wrong quickly. That is the day I learned there were criminals everywhere you go and that is the day we met Edwin.
Edwin didn’t seem to be much of anyone. He talked like he ran a large operation of illegal gambling, car chop shops, and a few other things. It sounded impressive, but like I said, he didn’t seem like much of anyone other than the kind of guy who liked to talk big. Most likely we thought he told stories about his boss and made it sound like it was all him.
Scott thought the same thing and tested Edwin with asking to get us into something exciting. Then he showed six thousand in twenties from the backpack he carried to make a point. Most people would ask why two teenagers have that kind of money. Not Edwin, he just assumed that we came from rich families.
What Edwin took us to was an underground fight club. When we got there, it was after the first match was over and a guy was cleaning up the ring. The smells of the place were hard to pin down. Different people smoking different things. The truly rich were in a protective area, while average folks were in a standing-only section along the ring.
We were led to a private area where the higher bets could be made. There would be three more fights that night. We placed a thousand on the first fight, fifteen hundred on the second fight, and twenty-five hundred on the third fight.
Each bet was for the underdog of each fight. Scott told me later his thought was to see how well the money got taken. If they lost the money, then no one would be upset. That was a good thought until the third fight was actually won by the underdog. The guy had horrible odds and only won because the other guy slipped and fell.
You should have seen the look on Scott’s face when he realized we won the big bet. Then came time for the payout! We tried to leave without a word but got stopped by Edwin. He was excited for us and said the guy running the show wanted to see us. Normally we would be excited too. That was, if we hadn’t pumped several thousand dollars of counterfeit money into his bank.
Edwin showed us into an office with a guy who looked as though he had been in a few fights himself. While we slowly entered the room, Edwin didn’t pay us any attention and walked to the guy behind the desk. He was very cheerful saying “These are the guys I found. I knew when I met them, you would want to have them here.”
There was no way to miss the two piles of money. Both piles looked to be made of twenties. This added concern for me, and I had to think it did for Scott too. Either way, this didn’t feel like it would be a good meeting with a good ending.
The boss behind the desk stood up and pointed us to the chairs on the other side. This blondish brown-haired guy stood six foot six and twice the size that I was. To say it gently, he was not someone you wanted to upset.
As soon as we sat down, Scott looked at the money on the desk. He had to be thinking about all the scenarios that could happen. My thought was only on one scenario. Scott smiled and asked if all the money was our winnings, and how much we won.
The boss guy walked around the room and in a deep voice answered Scott. “Yes, that is all your money. There are five thousand in one pile and the other pile is ten thousand. If things go the way I want it to go, you will be taking the ten thousand pile. If it doesn’t go well, then you will learn what happens when you cross the wrong person.”
I didn’t have a smile to begin with, but Scott kept his. Then Scott took a step that I would have never done. Scott told the boss guy that he knows why they are there and wanted to know how he figured out what we did. It was odd that he was admitting we did something wrong, but he would not say what that was.
Edwin on the other hand looked confused. He also looked scared when his boss pulled out a snub nose revolver and put it on the desk with the nozzle pointed towards us. The next thing said was by Edwin trying to defuse the situation. He was not permitted to say much when his boss told him to shut up till, he was ready to deal with him. I could of only imagine that Edwin bringing counterfeiters to the underground fight club would not be good for his health.
With all the tension, I finally broke and asked what would happen to us. I was thinking the end result would be Scott and I being shot in the back of the head, then dumped in some alley. Either way, I did know that we would not be happy with the end results.
I can’t say what I looked like, but Scott started to laugh, and Mr. Boss guy stood up. After he stood up, he said” Call me Francis. I am not going to hurt you; I want to use you. These bills you guys used are good work. The stack of real money is all yours if you can tell me who made them and how I can get a supply.”
It was unreal. The gun sitting on the desk, the two stacks of cash, and a criminal boss trying to buy the money we made. It felt as if we were in some kind of pulp fiction novel. I was more confused and scared than I had ever been. Francis was upset with Edwin, but happy he found us.
“So, what is the deal with the gun? Why are you threatening us if you want us to help you?” I had to ask and expected an answer. That was till Scott jumped in by saying that we would be happy to be his middlemen. We would not tell him who made the money, but we would take one percent as an administrator fee. Francis acted like he was thinking about it till he grabbed the snub nose and pointed it towards Scott.
There was not much we could do. If I tried to get the gun, we both would have been shot. Scott was starting to show some fear and put up his hands to show he was not going to do anything, and then asked what good shooting us was going to do. He tried to joke, but his voice didn’t portray humor very well. Scott said “Look, I don’t know if you think we are asking too much, but we need to make money off the work we are going to do. It is not like your guys work for free.”
After letting Francis think about it a little, Scott continued with saying “Plus there is another issue with shooting us. This looks like a nice rug and furniture. I hear it is horrible getting blood out of fabrics.”
The alley started to look like the end results again, but for some reason, that didn’t happen. Francis instead put the gun back on the desk and sat down. I could see some fear in Scott's eyes, but his voice seemed to go back to his normal cocky sounding way.
The two of them talked about fees and order sizes. Edwin and I stayed quiet till it was all done. Scott was talked down to a quarter percent and protection when he or I were in Windsor. We would be the only contact Francis would have. The first order would be for twenty thousand in twenties. He wanted to mix the money with the payouts for the fights and other deals he had going.
There was never a question that Scott or I were innocent, but now we had gotten ourselves involved with another criminal organization. This meant to me that we would have two different groups that would be happy to kill us if they were not happy with us. Later I found out that Scott told his contact in New York City what happened and cut him on what we were getting from the quarter percent.
Finally, everything was settled, and we knew that we had three orders. One delivery a month of twenty thousand. We would get eight dollars for every twenty-dollar bill. That meant eight thousand plus the quarter percent for our cut. We would drop off twenty thousand and come back with ten thousand dollars. After expenses and paying the guy in New York, we walked away with three thousand five hundred per delivery.
Everything was going well, and we had ended up making another agreement to extend the deliveries till otherwise notified. After Scott had made a few deliveries on his own, I decided to go with him for a little fun on a delivery. What I didn’t know was that Scott had started to bring drugs down from Canada. I guess he wanted to make the trip worth more.
We drove up to a town called Port Clinton that sat on Lake Erie and took a boat that took us to another boat. The second boat took us into Windsor and Francis would meet us the next day. Scott explained to me on the boat that Canada had a hell of a drug problem. Since people had to wait so long for medical treatment, they would try to find other ways to help with their pain.
Scott continued explaining that his New York contact had supplies come in from Canada, so he decided to use Scott to bring them through in a less monitored way. Scott seemed to enjoy doing it and it explained why Scott was giving me all but five hundred of the profit.
I was unsure how Scott found it fun. Scott knew I was not a fan of anything stronger than weed and I have never changed my thoughts on that. After everything that happened on that trip, I would never forget having a real glimpse into the dark side of the world, one that I never thought I would be part of.
I know it sounds foolish. I was counterfeiting money and working with a guy who had a small drug empire. At least that is what he liked to call it. But I didn’t think I was hurting anyone, so I was not a criminal.
So, I listened to Scott tell me about what has been going on in Canada. He had found people who thought he was some dumb kid and underestimated him. That allowed him to make a network of connections. The problem I had was that the people he told me about sounded as dangerous as the mobster from New York City.
Then things got strange when we pulled up to the docks in Windsor. A guy looking like he had lived a rough life stood on the dock waiting for us. I first realized that this guy was not someone they were expecting when the boat captain grabbed a gun and Scott pulled out a .45 that I never knew he had.
The guy on the dock must have realized or knew what was happening. He lit a cigarette and after he exhaled the smoke from his lungs, he put up his hands. Scott was the first to get out and talk to the guy. Then as fast as things got hairy, it was as over and seemed to be back to business as usual.
The guy turned out to be one of Francis’s guys. Scott was expecting Edwin, but this guy was sent instead. Since everything seemed to be fine, we grabbed the bag of money and went on our way. The whole event gave off a spooky feeling. Between the creepy guy and the foggy mist that rolled in, I was expecting something bad to happen. Even the lights of all colors filling the city didn’t seem bright enough to chase out the darkness.
As we followed the guy to his car, I asked Scott what was going on and where Edwin was. It turned out that Edwin would be meeting us at Francis’s club. He had another job to do before coming and escorting us around. This guy was just getting us to make the exchange. And that all appeared to be OK. That was till we got to the car.
It was a four door maroon Lexus. The guy told us to hand over any guns we had on us. If we didn’t, we would not be going to see Francis. The smug look on his face went away quickly when Scott said, “No problem, I am not going then.”
It only took a few steps of us walking away when the guy caved. With the guy agreeing not to push for Scott to give up his gun, we got in the car. It was odd to watch the buildings go by and not notice the excitement of the city.
