It’s A Bear Market With Juice
Alba’s heart nearly stopped when she heard the car door slam outside. Jumping up and running to the window, her worst fears were confirmed – John's silver Mercedes was parked in the driveway, its engine still purring as it cooled. Her husband wasn't supposed to be home for hours.
"Quick!" she hissed at Marcus, who was still tangled in the bedsheets. "Hide in the cupboard!"
Marcus, still buttoning his shirt, ducked into the large wooden stand up closet just as the front door opened downstairs. Alba quickly straightened her clothes and hair, trying to calm her racing pulse.
The minutes slowly crawled by like hours as she heard John moving around downstairs. Then, something unexpected happened – the cupboard door creaked open, but it wasn't Marcus who crawled in.
Little Tommy, Alba's eight-year-old son, stood there clutching a worn teddy bear, his eyes were mixed with mischief and opportunity. "Hey mister man you want to buy a teddy bear?"
Marcus, cramped in the corner between hanging clothes, whispered, "Hell No! Get your butt out of here!"
Tommy's angelic face hardened with determination. "If you don't buy my teddy bear, I'll tell my dad theirs another man in here."
Marcus's face turned another color. Whispering to himself “little $&@“ Feeling for his wallet, he pulled out a crisp ten-dollar bill and thrust it at the boy. Little Tommy snatched it with a grin and disappeared, closing the door quietly behind him.
Five minutes later, the door opened again. Little Tommy stood there with the cupboard door wide open and another teddy bear, this one wearing a little bowtie with sunglasses. "Special edition," he whispered with a smirk. Marcus tells him to “sho” like a fly. Little Tommy says in a playful voice “Ohh, dad!”
Another ten dollars changed hands.
When John finally left to go back to work, Alba released Marcus from his wooden prison. He practically ran downstairs out of the house, leaving Alba to deal with her extortion son.
She found little Tommy in his room, arranging bills on his bed like he’s about to make a deposit. "Thomas James Wilson!" she yelled, though her anger was tinged with embarrassment. "What you did was wrong. You're going to confession right now!"
At St. Joseph's Catholic Church, Tommy entered the confessional booth, his mother waiting outside. He knelt down: "Forgive me, Father, for I think that I have sinned."
It was silent for a minute. Then from behind the screen came an unexpected reply, “This voice sounds very familiar? No way! The priest slides the screen to the right. "Oh, God. No! Son I told you I don’t have $100 for no little Hugs Juices. Hell you already got $300 out me!"
Tommy's eyes widened as he recognized the priest – apparently, he wasn't the only one who'd been busy this morning.