|
I think everyone has these internal clocks and never gave much thought to this in my past. Now that I'm older I am coming to the realization that these little internal clocks are actually controlling my life. They are pulling, pushing, in fact, driving me to do things. I really think these clocks that have embedded themselves inside me are the evil in my life and I have no control over them. Am I going mad?
Please allow me a few minutes of YOUR time to explain from the beginning.
Way back in the old days when the first of my Family arrived on these shores life seemed so simple. The Family was poor and they had to do what ever odd jobs they could find, legal or otherwise, to make ends meet. The first in my line found a man when he arrived and he offered to show him how he could make good money for his Family. He jumped at the opportunity as he had nothing and no way of feeding the little ones. The clock had now begun.
Tick Tock
The first duty he had been given was to show his worth by doing a little favor for the guy and snatch a purse. He was desperate and needed the money. The man showed him just how easy it was and he finally got up the nerve to give it a shot. It didn't go well as the woman, who it seems was robbed often, was more prepared and he barely got away with his life. His heart was pounding from nerves but also from excitement. He returned to the man and explained that maybe he wasn't prepared for this kind of life and should just go wash dishes somewhere.
The man laughed "Is that what you think is going to feed you and your Family?" he said. "Be a man and don't give up so easily".
He was right. My Family is depending on me to bring home the bacon. In a few minutes he gathered himself and tried the next old lady coming around the corner. This time a little more prepared. Success!!! He walked away with some cash and ran to show the man what he had done.
The man was excited for him and explained to him the theory of quantity. It went something like this; the more you rob these little old ladies the more you can make per day. The longer the day you work the more you have time to make money. This is where the first clock began. Rob every few minutes to make money.
Tock Tock
Life was good. Life was easy. Get up, get dressed, get coffee and rob old women like clock work. It wasn't long after that though that more clocks began entering my forefathers' life. The man who had helped him had now suggested he run a few drugs. He explained how this would enrich him even more and would take less time that robbing little old ladies. Again, the nervousness, anxiety, excitement had coming rushing back but the money he had been making didn't seem to go as far as it once did so he agreed. The man even gave him some real seed money so he could run the 'good stuff'. So, he began with his first drug run. He bought coke in New York at a cheap price and flew to Philly where he was able to sell high. He made what he thought at the time was a small fortune. Again, the man explained the theory of quantity to him as it pertained to drugs. If he could simply fly from city to city every couple hours he would be rolling in dough. At the same time he could continue his robbing and even elevate his take by robbing some of local stores where he was. Rob every few minutes, deal every couple hours.
Tick Tock
It was shortly after that the man had suggested he join his crew. He was making good money and could be a real asset to them. They in turn would offer him protection from other crews as well as the police. Seemed logical and the man had already helped him in so many ways he felt obligated. He was now making some real money flying all over the country selling and robbing. He kind of giggled to himself that he was a one man crime spree. He never realized the two clocks he had running and the longer days he was putting in. He was doing so well his new crew allowed him to run higher quantities of coke now with them taking a little off the top. He didn't mind at all since he never had this much money in his life. They did ask as being part of a crew to please check in at the HQ daily just to see what is going on and if they had needed anything else from him. He agreed. Rob every few minutes, deal every couple hours, check in at the HQ.
Tick Tock
Now my ancestor is in a pretty good routine when the Boss hands him a gun and asks if he could shoot some guy he needs taken out. In this far and knowing that refusing the Boss is the quickest way to meet worms he agrees. He flies to where the target is not forgetting to check on drug prices before heading out. He gets to his destination sells some drug and commits a few petties. Locates his target and tails him for a bit while doing a few more petties. For some strange reason the old timers around the HQ had told him to make sure he does a few petties before a kill. He didn't know if it was to get the blood flowing and sorta get in the groove of things or simply superstition. It didn't really matter because he had become accustomed to simply following any orders the old men said needed to be followed. Once ready he hit his target. His first kill. In some strange fashion this was special but he didn't know why. I have noticed throughout my Family diaries that the first kill held some sort of high honor with them. Once a few more petties were done and time had come for another drug run he checked in with the HQ to let them know how it all went on his trip. They were all very excited for him getting his first kill and in return gave him a list of names, dates, times and locations of others who needed to die. Rob every few minutes, deal every couple hours, check in at the HQ, organize flights to kill contacts for Family.
Tick Tock
He would of been lying if he said this schedule wasn't starting to affect his life at home. There would be times when his wife would need him to run an errand and he would have to say he couldn't because a job needed to be done for his Boss. Things started to get a bit testy but he ignored all personal life problems for the Family that was bringing him money and protection. They came first. They decided to reward him in all that he has done by promoting up the line to one of their top earners. He was so proud and the 18 hour days he was now putting in all seemed worthwhile. That's when the next clock was added. He needed as an Earner to complete certain tasks. He needed to start doing bigger jobs with more drugs and now he must start committing felonies. That certainly wasn't a lot to ask since he obviously was murdering people, could robbing banks be that much harder? They explained to him that if he one day wanted to become a Made Man he would need to commit felonies on a regular basis and earn the Boss more and more money. Rob every few minutes, deal every couple hours, check in at the HQ, organize flights to kill contacts for Family, commit felonies.
Tick Tock
At this point the clocks were wearing thin on his life. Legit work, family issues, friends outside of the Family all have to be put way back in line. He was striving to become Made in a special thing. No one could talk to him or get him off this path. 18 hour days became doing the 24, 36, 42 hours straight to achieve his goals. Now the Family began to trust him with things. They even asked him to help bring others in and teach them the ways of this world. They also explained he would have to make some speeches on the street to lift himself to a position of respect. He would want to start interacting with others in this thing of ours from outside the Family. He needed to be known. Rob every few minutes, deal every couple hours, check in at the HQ, organize flights to kill contacts for Family, commit felonies, make speeches, recruit and train new people.
Tick Tock
This is but just the start. His diaries continued on with each and every day more and more clocks being added inside his head until the day he died. A few of his relatives had gotten taken in just as he had and they often spoken about these crazy clocks in their heads. There have been generations since anyone dared joined this life again all stating the fear of the clocks. That was many years ago and I'm sure they were somewhat exaggerated accounts of what really happens. As stories get passed down through the family they get more and more unbelievable. Something as silly as a clock able to take over your whole life and drive you mad like that is to funny. As I said this was just the start of his tale of woes that lasted years for him. I would love to spend the time reading the rest as there is much much more here but I have jobs I have to get done. You see some guy who approached me explained he knew me because some long lost relative of his knew of this old man in my family tree. He asked me to do him a favor for old time sakes and now I have to rob some old lady to make some quick cash.
Am I mad or do you feel the clocks too?
Tick Tock Tick Tock |
