Adam slowly pulled his black Honda into his drive way and parked. He grabbed his Styrofoam box dinner from the passenger seat and walked to the mailbox and took a quick look inside. The sight brought a smile to his face. The mailbox was empty, making for a nice bonus to a fantastic day. No mail meant no bills.
Adam walked to the front door of his home, unlocked the door, and placed his keys in the dish on the side mantle in the foyer. When he turned to walk to the bedroom, he noticed that there was something different about his apartment. Something was out of place. Out of the corner of his right eye, Adam noticed a mass on his living room floor. It was the cushions from the couch. They had been slashed open with a knife and some of the stuffing had been pulled out. Adam paused for a split second as his brain tried to process the information.
“What the....” Adam started to say.
Two men in dark clothing, their faces covered by black ski masks, jumped Adam from the doorway leading to the kitchen. Adam’s Styrofoam dinner box was sent hurling against the wall, spilling grilled chicken breast and rice across the foyer. The hulking Hiram grabbed Adam and held him up against the wall next to the front door. Horace punched Adam in the stomach several times, knocking the wind out of him, and then held a knife up to his throat.
“Grab his wallet, and I want that watch too!” Hiram barked. His hot breath seared Adam’s nose with the rank odors of black coffee and unbrushed teeth. He had both hands on Adam’s shoulders, keeping him firmly pressed against the wall. Adam’s feet were not touching the floor. Horace kept the knife at Adam’s throat while he slipped his left hand into Adam’s back pocket and took his wallet. He put the wallet into the front pocket of his pants and then he ripped Adam’s shirt open, looking for the crucifix pendant. It was not around Adam’s neck.
“He’s not wearing it!” yelled Horace, obviously surprised. “Where’s the necklace? Where’s the necklace?” The knife in his right hand started to shake and quiver as the man’s emotions started to get the better of him.
“Check his pockets. It’s got to be on him,” Hiram said.
“It’s not here! It’s not here!!” Horace protested as he went through Adam’s pants pockets. The shaking knife moved closer and closer to Adam’s throat.
Hiram released his grip on Adam’s shoulders and Adam dropped. Before Adam’s feet hit the ground, Hiram punched him in the side of the head. The boulder- sized fist connected squarely on Adam’s temple and applied enough pressure to render him unconscious.
The two muggers fled hurriedly out through the front door, leaving it standing wide open. Adam’s unconscious body was left lying on the floor in front of it. The flopping of plastic against wooden flooring broke the silence as Adam’s phone vibrated next to him. The screen lit up with Adam’s caller ID, revealing the call was coming from Uncle Pete.
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