My parents told me, it’s all about family. Without them you’re alone, adrift in a sea of nothingness.

Siblings need to be there for one another. However, sometimes their apparent support could end up being your worst nightmare, as becomes evident in . . .

Where Would I Be Without You?

     I sat on the couch in Liv’s great room staring off into space and waited for her to make the pronouncement that would change our lives. “What’s taking you so long? You told me to be here at seven and you’d share some great secret with me. So I got here ten minutes early and all you’ve done is mess around in the kitchen. I think you’re avoiding the issue.”    

     “No, I’m not. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

     ‘I hope so, Liv. But the last time you asked me to do that, I thought we were going to end up in jail.”

     “Well, yeah, but you have to admit I was very convincing when that cop stopped us for speeding,” Em.

     “Sure, you told him I was having a miscarriage. Fortunately he didn’t check the tomato juice you’d spilled on the floor of the car the day before.”

     “It did look like blood, sis. Didn’t it?”

     “Yes. But then he escorted us to the hospital. I thought our goose was cooked.”

     “I guess a call about a robbery in progress trumps a pregnancy gone awry.”

     “Just be glad he didn’t look closely at me. For God’s sake, I’m fifty years old. He would have called our bluff.”

     “No, he wouldn’t have. And you don’t look a day over forty-nine, old lady.”

     “Okay, we got away with it that night. But if it ever happens again, I’m not so sure we will.”

     “Believe me, I’ve thought this through. Dotted every ‘i’ and crossed every ‘t.’”

     “I guess I’ve got to. You’re the English teacher—Ms. Olivia Thatcher, Master of Arts in English. And from Stanford, to boot.”

     “You’ve got that right. So, are you ready to listen to the plan?”

     “Plan? We are going to get arrested. Aren’t we?”

     “Not if you follow my directions exactly as I outline them.”

     “Haven’t I always? You’re my younger, but bossier sister. You’ve never let me disagree with anything you’ve said. When we were kids, if I if I tried, you’d tell mom and dad I was picking on you. I could never figure out why they always believed you and not me.”

     “Isn’t it obvious. I was littler and brighter. And oh, so adorable.”

     “You’re pushing this a bit further than I can handle. So what’s your plan, Liv?”

     “All right. You know we both want to retire early, say about fifty-five—maybe sooner.”

     “Yeah. So, I’ve been putting my money in an IRA. I’ve had my Nissan Altima for twelve years. I saved a lot of money by not buying a new car. I took in a renter two years ago. I’m on track.”

     “You never were one to think big, were you? Keep going in that direction and you won’t be able to retire until you’re a hundred and ten.”

     “What’re you talking about? I’ve got it covered. No, I’m not going to be rich, but I’ll be fine.”

     “That’s what they all say until the bills start rolling in. Then you’ll be standing on the corner with a tin can in your hand.”

     “No I won’t. You have a better idea?”

     “Yup.”

     “Okay, I’m waiting. Roll it out.”

     ”Close your eyes.”

     “Why?”

     “Because I said so.”

     “This can’t be happening. I feel like I’m going back in time, little sis. You’re the boss of me again.”

     “Are they closed?”

     “Yes. Now what?”

     Liv placed something in my hand. It was heavy and felt like . . . “Oh no,” I screamed.

     “Quiet, Em. You’ll wake the neighbors.”

     “I don’t believe you’re considering doing something like this. We’ll definitely end up in prison . . . or worse . . . DEAD!”

     “Calm down and let me explain my plan.”

     “No, Liv. This is getting ridiculous. I don’t want to do this anymore. I’m going to open my eyes.”

     “Noooooooo,” Liv screeched, so loud it made my head ache. So I sat there dumbfounded, with my eyes closed. 
     “What now?” I mumbled.

     “Give it back to me. You’re obviously not ready to take the next step to an early and secure retirement.”

     She pulled it from my hand. “Can I open my eyes now?” I asked.

     “Might as well. There’s nothing to see.”

     “Liv, I don’t know how you could think about doing something like that.”

     “Like what? You have no idea what I was planning to do. You didn’t give me a chance to explain.”

     “So explain.”

     “Maybe later. You want a drink?”      

     “A drink? You think that’ll calm me down. No, I better be going. I have an early meeting at work in the morning. . . . You know, I shouldn’t be curious about this scheme of yours, but I am. Let me know when you’d like to get together again to talk about it. And next time, I’m going to keep my eyes wide open.”

     “Well, we’ll see about that. But I will give you a call.”

     I wasn’t sure what Liv was planning, but I knew it couldn’t be good. She had other ideas about how to make a quick fortune in the past—none of them illegal, but some of them close, and none of them panned out.

     A week passed and I hadn’t heard from Liv, so I decided to give her a call. The phone rang and rang. I was about to hang up when . . .

     “Hi, Em. I was in the shower. So I’m clean and smell good. Used a new body lotion called ‘Men Attract.’ The ad says it’ll make them salivate.”

     “I think I’ve heard enough, Liv.”

     “Hey, I was going to call you after I got dressed. Wanted to set up a follow-up meeting to discuss the plan that will put our lives on the fast track to retirement. Think dollar signs, sis.”

     “I’m a banker, for heaven’s sake. I always think dollar signs.”

     “Well, money manager, do you think you can make some of that cash come our way? Let it drift off into the sunset of our future?”

     “If I’m hearing what I think I am, I’m not going to help you rob my bank.”

     “If not yours, then maybe somebody else’s?”

     “You are crazy. If this is your bright idea, I want no part of it. Forget the meeting, Liv.”

     “Oh, Em, I’m just kidding. Robbing a bank ain’t my style. Come over after dinner tonight. I’d offer to feed you, but I have work to do on my presentation.”

     “Presentation? What’re you talking about?”

     “You’ll see.”

     And with that, she hung up. Having lost my appetite over all this craziness, I ate a small snack, put myself together, and headed off in my twelve-year-old companion to Liv’s. Not knowing what to expect, my anxiety level heightened.

     It was starting to get dark on this fall evening, but when I arrived, Liv’s porch light wasn’t on and I couldn’t see any light coming from the front windows. This unnerved me. Closing my eyes was one thing, but meeting in the dark was a bit more than I could tolerate.

     I rang the bell, but Liv didn’t come to the door. I reached for the handle. But before I could grasp it, someone grabbed my arm and stuck a hard object into the middle of my back. My heart began to pound uncontrollably.

     “I don’t have any money on me—nothing else of value—not even my credit card. I don’t want to die,” I whimpered.

     The mysterious being pushed the weapon harder into my back and shoved me through the now open front door into the pitch-black entry hall. Then I heard someone else approach. This person took hold of my arm and pulled me into Liv’s dimly lit bedroom. “What, what do you want?” I stammered.

     “Shut up and do what I tell you,” a male voice grumbled.

     I didn’t say another word. But in the dim light, I could see Liv on the bed—bound and gagged. I started to shake. What the hell did these creatures want?

     Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw what looked like the gun I’d thought Liv had placed in my hands last week sticking out from under a towel on the dresser. I didn’t know if I could get to it, but I knew I had to try. I had no other choice.

     The guy who stuck the weapon into my back entered the room and began whispering into my other captor’s ear. Realizing they’d taken their eyes off of me, I moved cautiously toward the dresser. The two now had their backs to me and seemed to be arguing. Seeing my chance for freedom, I grabbed the “gun” off the dresser and stuck it into the large pocket in my pants.

     One of the guys must’ve heard me and turned toward me. “What are you up to?” he grumbled.

     “Nothing,” I whined.

     He turned back to his accomplice. My mission clear, I reached into my pocket, pulled out the gun, pointed it at the two thugs and yelled, “Get your hands up or I’ll shoot.”

     To my surprise, they laughed uproariously and stared past me to the bed. What I saw made me want to puke and fire the gun at the same time. For Liv was sitting up giggling out of control.

     “Got you again, big sis. And now, I’m finally going to show you what will make our early retirement a reality.”

     “A gun!” I shouted in dismay.

     “Just read the inscription before you jump to conclusions,” Liv chanted.

     And so I did . . . “Miracle Fire Starter and Handy Welder.”

     Five year’s later Liv and I sat on the balcony of our home in the Caribbean, with drinks in hand, enjoying our retirement from the profits made from the sale of her invention. And I no longer had to ponder the question, “Where would I be without you?”

Copyright © 2018 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.