Leaving Clancy to shake her head and sigh, I wandered back out to the counter. A woman entered through the doors and looked around. I was about to go offer to help her (not really) when her eyes landed on The Guy That Slurped His Coffee and brightened. She walked over to him and they began talking excitedly.
The door jingled again. Reaching up on my tiptoes, I removed the chalkboard that displayed yesterday's menu. My mom walked in as I began spraying the board. She waved to the customers and made a bit of small talk with some people. Trying to act as if I had been working all this time, I wiped off the chalk from the board (ha, chalkboard. Get it? No. Okay.) and using my favourite chalk (it was pink) I began writing out the day's specials and prices.
Mom wandered over. I loved my parents, I really did. I'd gladly spend the rest of my life working in this coffee shop if it meant my parents could retire early. They'd worked every single day in their lives. I could only imagine the hardships they went through to get this place up and functioning. We weren't making as much money as we were five years ago. It was a hard fact to face. Lately, we'd been sending out more advertisements to the streets and Ade was helping me work on creating a website for the shop.
The stress on her aged face was clear. I still thought of my mother as the most beautiful woman in the world. With pretty green eyes and brown hair, many people were surprised to learn she was one half of the owner. I didn't blame them. My mother was a tiny thing, barely clearing five feet. However, her stature didn't take anything away from doing her job as a manager. She was a tough lady and I loved her with all my heart.
"Florence." Mom walked over and kissed my cheek as I kept writing. She set her bag down behind the counter and took out a couple of manilla folders. "I thought you were going with Ade on the NYU tour today."
"I am-" Realizing I missed the last 'e' on the word 'coffee,' I wiped it and started over. "But it's tonight. He's picking me up at 8."
"Okay, darling." Mom snatched a pen from behind the espresso machine. "Be sure to get some applications. And be safe. I'm going to be here late tonight. Clancy's taking another shift because Samantha couldn't make it in tonight. Her boyfriend and her had another fight."
Samantha Jennings was one of the servers. She and her boyfriend had been off and on for months now. Their breakup was inevitable, but slow. This was the fifth time she took a day off because of him. Mom was too nice to refuse her excuses, though. "Aww."
"That was the most heartless 'aww' I have ever heard in my life." Mom chuckled softly. She watched me write on the chalkboard for a minute before picking up the sheath of newspapers I had grabbed on my way out of the kitchen. "Anything new on here?"
"The Brooklyn Crowns." I shrugged. I still had no idea who they were. "They're apparently some big name mafia even though we've never heard of them. Clancy's all worried over it. And apparently-" I wiggled my eyebrows at her. "-they're in the area. And apparently, we're out of paper cups. And apparently, Clancy promised to buy me a bag of Twizzlers if I gave Table 9 a refill. So I'm gonna do that now because I want those damn Twizzlers-"
"Okay." Mom held her hands up, gesturing for me to stop babbling. "First of all, I have never heard of a gang called the Brooklyn Crowns. You know how rumours travel. Probably just a group of teenage boys looking for trouble. And second of all, there's a jar of Twizzlers right there." She pointed to the section of the counter dedicated to candy. On top of the glass case, right next to the register, was the jar. "And third of all, do you know where Clancy is? I need to talk to her."
I stared distastefully at the jar. "That's licorice."
"What's the difference?"
"I like Twizzlers."
"Oh, Florence." She sighed. "Your father will be in soon, he went to file taxes. It's that time of year again." Her eyes glazed over for a second. I was about to start singing to bring her out of her daydream when she snapped out of it. Grabbing her bag, Mom began walking towards the kitchen door. Her office was beyond that. "Anyways, if you find Clancy, send her to me." She stopped at the door and looked back. "Are you okay manning the counter for the next hour or so? Your father should be in by then and he can take over."
"Yes. And Clancy is in the kitchen."
"Thank you, baby. I'll check up in a bit before the lunch rush hits."
"Yeah."
"Oh, Florence." Mom sighed again and disappeared. The doors swung shut behind her.
The next hour or so passed. It was fairly quiet in the coffee shop. A few customers wandered in and replaced the ones that eventually left. Slurping Coffee Guy left with who I assumed to be his girlfriend. They were actually kind of cute together. Clancy helped out with the tables that were occupied. Other than that, the day was as boring as the next day certainly be. Ade stopped by during one of his in-between class breaks, bought a cup of coffee, and left.
The sky darkened. It was going to rain soon. Brooklyn saw more clouds than the sun on most days. It was a bleary, cold, and quiet day. I busied myself with pointless things, washing and rewashing a counter that already had been washed so many times, trying to eat a stick of licorice and spitting it back out, persuading an elderly man with dentures to buy a clay sculpture I made in art class...it was all just a way to pass the time.
The coffee shop doors slammed shut, bringing in a gust of wind with the new customer. Hearing the arrival, I suppressed a sigh and went back to the counter with a fake but bright smile on my face to serve whoever had entered.
It was a man, and a very intimidating man at that. He had a mop of black curls and dark, angry eyes that swept around the place better than my broom did. A pink bubble grew from between his lips. It popped and he began chewing his gum again like it owed the man money. He had on a heavy woolen coat and his hands were shoved into his pockets. The man stood on the doorway for a minute, his eyes surveying the shop before landing on me.
By now, he had gained the attention of several of the customers sitting closest to the door. As the man strode up to the counter, I felt a strange unease clench my stomach. However, my professional side got the best of me as he walked up. Forcing a huge grin on my face, I said in the cheeriest voice I could, "Hi! Welcome to the Espresso House. How can I help you?"
Even I could cringe at the fakeness of my tone, like the man did. He tried to suppress his grimace and fixed me with a cold stare. Chewing his bubblegum loudly, the man motioned to the large flat screen tv hanging above the clock against one of the walls. Beneath it were abstract pictures of different colours that my mother hung up to liven up the place.
He tipped his head towards the tv. "Turn it on."
I frowned. People usually just ordered a cup of coffee. Even though this wasn't the strangest request, it did confuse me. I stared at the man, the blank expression that must've been on my face annoying him because he jabbed his head towards it again impatiently. "What?" I stared at him.
"The TV." He enunciated the words like I was stupid. I certainly felt like it at this point. The man removed one of his hands from his pocket and pointed to the dark screen again. I noticed he had the most curious little tattoo on his middle finger. It was of a king's crown with five points, very small and black. "Can you please turn it on?"
Heat crawled up my cheeks. Fumbling for the remote in one of the counter drawers, I was fully aware of how everyone was now watching us. The customers fell silent, deciding this exchange was more interesting than their conversations were. They watched curiously as I moved out from behind the counter and turned the television on, my hands trembling.
"Turn to channel 5." The man said, lazily leaning against one of the pillars.
Obeying, I flipped to the channel. It was a news report. A man and woman in black suit was speaking. On the upper left hand corner, the word 'LIVE' blinked on and off in red. Beneath the woman was a ribbon of blue that screamed 'Breaking News: Car Chase Across Brooklyn Bridge.' In smaller words, it said 'Crowns Arrival Does Not Go Unnoticed.' Turning the volume up so everyone could hear, we watched in silence.
"-New York City Police on high alert after police veteran Edmund Grey was found dead in his apartment earlier this morning. Grey had ties with the Brooklyn Crowns, a high-powered mafia based right here in this city. He was fired after being found guilty with charges of assault on a fellow police officer Tobias Salinsky and destroying vital evidence against the Micheal Lewis case. Officers reported to a call this morning from Queens after hearing several gunshots go off." The woman reported.
"As you can see here," The man took over. "We will now cut to the helicopters circling around Brooklyn Bridge. This footage is live."
The screen cut to a shot of the Brooklyn Bridge, taken from high above. The reporter's voice carried on through, commenting on the live action. "Ladies and gentlemen-" She said. "-we are reporting live from the Brooklyn Bridge. Several members of the Crowns escaped Queens after the death of Edmund Grey. NYPD is now on their tail. They are speeding down the bridge as our helicopters- oh, there they are! Can you see them, John?"
"I can, Sarah." The man replied, sounding equally as nervous as the woman. "Right there, in that white car, heading eastbound. From what I can see, there are five police cars on their tail- no, wait! Six now as another one joins. Oh man, look at the destruction around them, Sarah. Several crashes on the bridge as the suspects flee-"
On the shaky footage from the helicopters, we could see a white car ramming down the bridge. Everyone else watched with bated breath, including me. My head was swimming with thoughts all at once. The Brooklyn Crowns. I guess Mom was wrong about them being teenage boys looking for trouble. A car chase on the bridge? Someone was going to get hurt. This was very serious, and the full realization of just how serious hadn't settled in with me yet. The camera cut to another viewpoint from a different helicopter. Several police cars were following the white one as it swerved violently past other cars to avoid crashing.
The screen went back to the man as the live footage became a small square on the upper right hand corner, still playing out the shocking scene. "They are heading towards the center of Brooklyn, it appears, racing down Montgomery Avenue. Notorious mafia leader and crime boss, 22 year old Wolfe Sterling, is suspected to be one of the four men that broke into Edmund Grey's apartment this morning- oh, Jesus!"
The voice cut off as the camera footage came back on. Everyone in the shop gasped and murmured out words of disbelief, as did I. One of the police cars that had been chasing the Crowns car suddenly connected headfirst with a big truck. The truck skidded out sharply and stopped against the wall of the bridge halfway through, causing a few other cars to swerve out of the way to avoid being crushed. The police car, however, had a much worse fate. Reeling from the impact, it slammed against a sedan and landed on its side. Immediately, smoke began billowing out from the engine.
"Oh my God." The woman reporter gasped. "John, did you see that?"
"I did, Sarah, and what a scene that was. And the police are still on their tail! They haven't slowed down one bit. Still heading eastbound, towards the block businesses in the center of the city. The Crowns do not seem to be giving up the chase, but neither does NYPD. Emergency teams are reporting on the site of the crash, where we have just watched a police cruiser collide with a truck. Crowns now racing down 13th Street with police close by-"
13th Street. That's where we were.
Just as the screen cut back to the helicopter footage, a loud screeching interrupted the silence. Heads turned, people stood up, and phones began to videotape what was about to happen. We didn't have to wait long. To everyone's disbelief, the scene we had just seen on the news was arriving in real life right now.
A familiar white car roared past the coffee shop windows, just a blur with how fast it was going. A moment later, five police cruisers followed, racing down the street. Sirens pierced through the air, loud and angry. Disbelief was clear on everyone's faces. I'm sure I had a similar look on mine. It wasn't everyday that a police chase happened in Brooklyn, especially one that was so...significant. And terrifying. I'm sure a car chase across Brooklyn didn't conform to the laws of traffic, and there were a lot of people out in the streets right now.
Mom burst through the kitchen doors, her glasses sliding off her nose and pen in hand. "What in the heavens is going on right now-"
Before she could finish her sentence, the hair-raising noise of tires screeching came from outside. The sound that followed was thunderous as the white car skid wildly out of control...and slammed right into the diner besides the Espresso House. The head of the car was crushed to a stop as it smacked right through the building.
For one second there was just the distinct wail of police sirens.
And then a deafening crack followed, with a rumbling noise that sounded like....bricks caving in?
We couldn't see much of the damage because the windows didn't reach out as far as the crash was. But like everyone else, curiosity got the better of me. Everyone, including my mom and I, dashed outside to see the movie-like event play out. The man, with a strange smirk on his face, followed us out.
The five police cars that had been chasing it screeched to a stop in all directions. The men in the white car were wobbled, but not dead. As the police officers jumped out of their car, so did the men. The helicopter that had been recording suddenly flew overhead. All around, people were stopping in their tracks and gaping wide-eyed at the scene.
The building beside ours was run by a really nice family as a trio food diner. They had glass windows like the Espresso House and tall pillars inside. But now, the front of the brick building was completely destroyed. The car had rammed into the front glass windows, throwing a smatter of shards across the pavement. The building was old and made from a weak foundation, so the crash had set off a domino-like effect and the bricks crumbled like a sandcastle. Half of the car was inside the diner and destruction littered the surrounding area. The effect was devastating, and we could do nothing but watch in horror.
The men, who I assumed to be members of the Brooklyn Crowns, suddenly took off. There were three of them, wearing motorcycle gear with crash helmets that had tinted visors to conceal their identity. One of the men, leading the group, barked an order and they all disappeared around the corner of the diner. The police, who had taken up stance behind the doors of their cars, realized the Crowns were fleeing and took off after them, shouting commands to one another.
"Cortez! Dispatch the K9 unit! We'll never catch them with a chase, so let the dogs sniff them out. I want them here in five minutes!" A woman jumped out of a car that had just pulled up. She was wearing an NYPD police uniform and her brown hair was pulled back in a stiff bun. She was short but her voice was filled with a raw, undisputed authority. The man she was talking to nodded and walked away, speaking into his two-way radio.
She walked up to us, muttering something to herself angrily. In her hands she held a black police baton. Holding it out, she ushered us all back. "Guys, clear the area. This is now a crime scene. We need everyone out of here so we can catch the suspects, alright?" She raised her voice to make sure everyone heard. Other officers were shooing away the passersby on the street. The owners of the diner, Martha and Stewart Lane, ran out, looking horrified at the damage. "Come on, guys! The quicker, the better! Let's go. Robin, close off the streets!"
I felt Mom's hand tug on my elbow. As we began walking back into the coffee shop, I glanced back. The men had disappeared behind the diner. From there was another street and then a fence that closed off the local shops from the office buildings. They had nowhere to go unless they leveled the fence, which was electric. (I knew that because Clancy once told me but I didn't believe her so I threw a stick at it and screamed when the stick caught on fire and Ade laughed his little butt off.)
"The Brooklyn Crowns." Mom said thoughtfully as she held the door open. I held the other one and our customers all trooped back inside, murmuring softly to each other about what had happened. Mom glanced at the police officers who were lining the block with yellow caution tape, and then to Martha Lane who was crying into Stewart's shoulder. "Maybe I did underestimate this. Florence, business isn't even that good for us. What are we supposed to do with a notorious gang running amuck and scaring away what little customers we have left?"
It was a rhetorical question, she didn't want an answer and I didn't provide her with one. Clancy was right. This was going to be a bigger problem than any of us realized. With a heavy sigh, Mom followed the customers back in and closed the door.
I stared at the car that was crushed against the diner. The entire hood of the car was smashed. It was with little luck that the men had escaped. A small black truck pulled up. The back door opened and two men, holding the leashes to three ferocious looking German shepherds jumped out. The dogs began sniffing the air. A moment later, the dogs began leading the officers in the exact opposite way the men had gone. I thought that was a bit wrong but I didn't know police protocol so I didn't say anything.
A small movement caught my eye. Across the street at the end of the block stood the man in the big coat who told me to turn the television on. He was smoking now, a cigarette sticking up from between his lips. He leaned against a telephone pole and watched the activity nearby, lazily exhaling smoke into the air. He watched for only a minute. His eyes travelled over to me and he smirked again. With a mock wave, the man turned and disappeared around the corner.
Feeling a clench of unease, I turned around too and walked back inside the coffee shop. My head was swimming with a million thoughts, but mostly about the man. He was so strange. That tattoo of the crown...did it mean anything or was that just a fashion statement? And the way he strode in here...
Almost as if he knew what was going to happen.