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This writing was accepted for publication in the 108 page perfect-bound ISSN# / ISBN# issue/book... “Hands that Hurt” Down in the Dirt, v145 (the May 2017 Issue) You can also order this 6"x9" issue as a paperback book:

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The Job of a Lifetime

Trey Hines

    The job had been planned for months and the moment of truth was finally here. Johnny Santino sat outside the museum in his beat up Mustang shivering while anxiously rubbing his hands together. He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew smoke and cold breath into the atmosphere of the car.
    “Yo, Tommy, we gonna do this or what?” Johnny asked.
    His partner, Tommy Giovanni, was deep in contemplation as his eyes bore a hole into the entrance doors.
    “What’d you say?” he replied.
    “I said, we gonna hit this joint or what?” he said again.
    Tommy shook his head, snapping himself out of his trance and said, “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get this over with.” Johnny took one last drag off his cigarette and they both gathered their supplies and headed to the entrance.
    A few minutes later Johnny knocked on the front door to the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. The guard on duty was lost in excitement watching a boxing match. He banged on the door a little harder hoping to gain his attention this time. He flashed a fake Boston Police Department badge and put it to the surface of the glass door. Finally the guard snapped out of his trance and muted the television. He set down the remote and pressed a button not too far from him and a small buzzing noise could be heard. The doors unlocked and slightly came open allowing the thieves to enter.
    “What can I do for you officers?” asked the guard.
    “We’re responding to a call about a disturbance in the area. My partner and I were in the area and wanted to make sure the Museum had the proper protection,” Tommy said, showing the badge. Johnny remained silent and simply nodded to the guard.
    “I didn’t hear nothing bout no disturbance but you can come on in,” he answered, returning to his boxing match and continued to ignore everything around him.
    “Thanks again for your cooperation,” Tommy said, nodding his head.
    Johnny walked behind the guard pretending to be interested in the fight. He put his hands on the guard’s shoulders and then threw him to the ground. The guard crashed to the floor in utter disbelief. Johnny kicked him in the stomach and dragged him to the elevator. Once there, he threw the security guard in the elevator and traveled to the basement. In darkness, Johnny managed to fully tie up and immobilize the guard. He finished up with the niceties and returned to the gallery.
    “All right, Tommy, let’s get this done with.” Johnny said. Together they entered the bowels of the gallery and turned on their flashlights.
    Tommy pointed with his flashlight to a painting on the left wall, a very famous painting by Rembrandt, “Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee”.
    “This one first, it always made me seasick looking at the damned thing everyday.”
    Johnny took out his box cutter and carved the painting away from its frame. Afterwards he rolled it up and placed it in a tube. For the next hour and a half they would choose their victims at random, completely disregarding value or historical significance. All they cared about was getting the job done.

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