An Egg in the Hand

In 8 days, I wrote this 2,500-word story with the surprise topics of crime caper, a tradeshow, and a shopaholic during Round 1 of the 2022 NYC Midnight Short Story Challenge. My story, An Egg in the Hand, earned 1st place in my heat, which moves me on to Round 2!

“Alvin, take a look at this.” Javier flattened this year’s Florida Exotic Pet Expo catalogue, tapping his pen on Scales & Feathers. “He’s done it.”

Alvin grabbed the glossy, squinting at their biggest rival’s booth description. Every year, Reynold Stuart enticed buyers with a coveted, usually illegal creature, the announcement delightfully cryptic except to the most devout enthusiasts. This year, Scales & Feathers would be showing…long list of rote reptiles…some birds…followed by “a hooded rarity of white prestige.”

“You don’t think—” Alvin said.

“I do.” Javier squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “And we’re going to steal it.”

Alvin choked on his coffee as Lydia opened the door, arms draped with shopping bags. She hoisted them to the counter.

“Babe, you were just getting milk,” Javier said.

Lydia flipped her long dark hair and unfurled a purple mink shawl. “I did. But isn’t this shawl perfect!”

Javier sighed. “It’s your fortune…”

Lydia kissed her husband. “Our fortune, darling. Had my father showered me with love instead of money, I wouldn’t have to fill this aching void. I wish you’d enjoy it with me.” She laughed, charmed Alvin with a smile, and retreated upstairs with full arms.

Alvin continued circling items his brother’s store could actually sell: lightweight cages, laser-sensing self-feeders. “Why do you let him get under your skin? You won, remember? She chose you.”

“It’s not about that. It’s timing. Reynold’s been obsessed with the world’s largest falcon since we were kids. And pure white, who could resist? I knew he’d find one someday, I just didn’t know when. But I’ve had Suzy crossbreeding chickens for years and look…” Javier reached into the fridge and retrieved a carton of eggs, all brown with deeply dark speckles.

Alvin picked one up. “Amazing.” He studied the weight, the shape, everything about it was near perfect. “How did you—?”

“Marie’s her name, the most precious chicken in the world.” Javier grinned and cracked four eggs into a bowl.

Alvin waved his hand, a gesture inherited from their father. “We’re too old for this. Between my anxiety and your diabetes, we’d never pull it off. Besides, what’s the point?”

“Speak for yourself!” Javier ran his hands through his thick, black hair. Alvin, at age forty-two, was already grayed from chronic worry. “It’s not about money or revenge. It’s about this egg. In another life, we’d have been partners, Reynold and I, but…”

“Say what you want, Javi. You’re obsessed, just like he is. You think Reynold won’t notice you swapping a common chicken egg for his million-dollar gyrfalcon?”

“It’s an omen, Alvin. Marie finally starts laying perfect duplicates exactly when Reynold announces his possession of the Arctic’s fiercest predatory bird? It’s too good to be true!”

“It won’t work,” Alvin said. “He’ll be guarding it like a hawk.”

“No,” Javier smiled. “I’m bringing Lydia.”

Alvin opened his mouth, then closed it again. Javier waited. Then Alvin, his older brother and most trusted friend, shook his head and laughed. “Screw it. I’m in.”

Javier slapped the counter. “Yes! Okay, here’s my plan…”

***

The day of Florida’s most coveted tradeshow was bright and sunny. The convention center cackled with thousands of raucous birds and reptiles in cages or harnessed on open displays. Florida’s Exotic Pet Expo attracted the who’s who of oviparous experts; purchases made here dictated the prestige and success of everyone’s upcoming hatching and selling season. Lydia was beside herself, ready to bargain for the most beautiful and outrageous animals she could find. They passed the reptile room into aquatics, new technology booths and finally the aviary section.

“Remember darling,” Javier said. “Stick to the budget. We only need what’s circled in the catalogue.” But Lydia was gone. Moments later she returned with a lemonade-colored parakeet and two knitted sweaters that read, Shell-tastic!

“For turtles,” she squealed. “Can you believe it?”

Javier managed an exasperated smile. This may have been a bad idea. Still, he led them toward the Scales & Feather’s booth, and soon enough, Reynold came lurking through the crowd. Javier said to Lydia, “Let’s get lunch.”

“Now? But we’ve barely begun. The good deals will be taken!”

“I’m famished,” Javier said, pulling her away.

Lydia noticed Reynold and slapped Javier’s arm for attempting escape. “Reynold,” she said, kissing his cheeks. Reynold nodded at Javier, then whispered in Lydia’s ear, making her laugh like old times.

“Your codes are getting lazy,” Javier yelled above the clatter of the convention floor.

Reynold let go of Lydia’s hands and leaned in. “I finally did it, Javi. The egg we’ve been dreaming about since boyhood.” He was beaming.

“I don’t deal on the black market anymore, Reynold. You know that.”

“Oh, but you would again, friend, if you saw this beauty. Power emanates from it. I’d like to show you, for old time’s sake.”

“Not interested.” Javier gritted his teeth. “Besides,” he raised his voice so Lydia could hear. “We’re getting lunch.”

Predictably, Lydia insisted, “You should join us.”

Reynold took her arm. “I’d love to.”

Javier checked his watch: 11:32am.

Before the waitress found their table, Javier feigned a text. “It’s Alvin, big deal on the hook. Sorry, darling, will you be okay?”

Reynold handed Javier a card. “My room number, just in case.”

Javier made a big show of kissing Lydia goodbye, apologizing for his rudeness, then hurried to Alvin’s room on the fourth floor. Alvin, already dressed like a waitstaff, had placed the chicken egg in the incubator hidden under a silver domed tray on an elegant food cart.

“You sure this will work?” Alvin said. His belly bulged against the gold buttons on the white coat, his middle-aged body slightly larger than size large. Javier held up the card. “Step one’s complete.”

They rattled up the elevator to the seventh floor, where two conspicuous bodyguards– hired more for the assets in the room than for personal wellbeing–stood at room 718. At exactly 11:52am, a little known but wealthy egg collector named Mr. Neilson emerged for his twelve o’clock appointment. At 11:54, he entered the elevator and grew annoyed by two waitstaff blocking the elevator’s service door. Three minutes later, Mr. Neilson was chloroformed and dragged to the ninth-floor stairwell, left curled on his side like a drunk sleeping one off. Javier slipped on Mr. Neilson’s blue sports jacket, a little snug, and held his ID to his face. Alvin nodded. As Javier promised, they were a close match. On the fifteenth floor, Javier stepped out, followed by Alvin, who paused with his cart just around the corner.

Javier took a deep breath and knocked on suite 1510. A stout, sunglassed guard stepped out, scanned Mr. Neilson’s ID, patted Javier down, and opened the door.

Alvin started his timer. He had seven minutes to get downstairs, intercept the food service ordered to his room, position the incubator and trays on the cart, and return to position.

Inside, Javier was led into the ensuite office where a mahogany desk held a clear glass incubator with its motherly hum. Despite himself, Javier felt like weeping. This rare Arctic bird, this coveted white gyrfalcon egg, looked precisely like Marie’s.

At 12:07, Alvin knocked on suite 1510. The sunglassed guard stepped out, wagged his finger, and shut the door. Inside, Javier’s voice raised. “It was me. I ordered it. I insist on room service. With all the excitement I knew my blood sugar would get low. Do you want me to fall into hypoglycemic shock?” His shrill tone was working. The guards, more like hired hands, were promised a cut from the highest bidder. For all of Reynold’s prestige, he was still just a pet store owner with a fetish. A relatively normal Miami man who didn’t keep bodyguards on payroll but understood how to get them. This room alone was costing him a notable fraction of the sale’s earnings. Javier added, “Look, I’m a fickle eater, always ordering more than I can muster. You can choose from what doesn’t appeal to me. Just let me eat for Christ’s sake!”

Alvin sweated in the hall. Javier’s plan relied too much on the moods of strangers. This would never work. Panicked, he turned to go. Javier could spend his hour ogling a real gyrfalcon egg and that would be that. But then the door opened and the guard waved him in.

Javier ignored Alvin while he peaked under each silver dome, choosing one near the napkin folded like a duck. “Your turn gentlemen.” Javier’s tone had risen to a laughable pitch. “Waiter, stay till we’re finished then clear this away. I don’t want these gorgeous lugs getting in trouble on my behalf.”

“Certainly, sir.” Alvin bowed slightly.

The three guards glanced at one another. Rather flamboyantly, Javier insisted they join him on the couches. Together they ate, laughed at Javier’s ridiculous commentary, and were unperturbed when he needed the restroom to inject his insulin. In the bathroom, Javier unfolded his duck-shaped napkin and slipped Marie’s egg into his jacket sleeve. On his return, he paused at the office door, sighing loudly. “My wife would kill me if I bought this beauty. Might I have another look?”

One guard begrudgingly stood, sandwich in hand.

“Oh, don’t bother yourself.” Javier winked. “You can pat me down before I leave.”

Alvin held his breath, praying this lackadaisical guard was tempted by food like a starving college student. It worked. The guard sat down, devouring the rest of his cubano.

Javier listened for sounds of Alvin collecting his half-eaten tray. When one guard said, “Leave it. I’ll eat that,” it was all the cover he needed to squeak open the incubator and swap eggs. He wrapped the gyrfalcon into his napkin, walked out, and flippantly thrust Alvin the dirty napkin.

Alvin flinched, fumbled, afraid he’d heard a crack.

“Jesus Christ, man,” Javier hissed.

The guards stood. “There a problem?” In his most cringe-worthy performance yet, Javier glided back to the couch. “Of course not, darling!”

Alvin squared his jaw. Javier was taking this too far. But then he felt it, wrapped in the napkin, hopefully unscathed, the outline of the most delicate, precious, and expensive egg in the world. If this was all the time he got with it, that was enough. Even Alvin knew this was special, powerful beyond reason. He stooped and gently nestled the egg inside the incubator, hidden in the cart, covering it with a silver dome.

Javier spent a few more minutes marveling at Marie’s chicken egg in the office, growing noticeably impatient that the seller had still not arrived. “Apologies,” said the guard. “It’s only 12:15. You still have time.” Javier guffawed. He took notes, was refused a picture, wrote down an offer then tore it up. He grew indignant. He was a serious buyer who deserved respect. He would not wait a moment longer. At 12:20, Javier huffed out, feigning insult and cursing Reynold’s name.

Shortly after, Alvin rattled cautiously toward the door when a guard said, “Wait.” Alvin froze. The guard reached in his pocket–This is it, Alvin thought–and handed him twenty dollars. “Rich assholes never tip,” he said, with a friendly nod. Alvin smiled and pocketed the money.

In their fourth-floor room, Javier was waiting, having already thrown Mr. Nielson’s coat into a hallway trash, emptying the wallet like a simple robbery. Alvin lifted the silver dome. Their egg was uncracked. Relief swept over them. Reynold was right. This creature, not even hatched, emanated power. Javier set the gyrfalcon egg carefully inside the incubator. Then he wrapped his arms around his brother. “We did it, Alvin. We freaking did it!”

It was 12:24pm.

***

Downstairs, Javier found Lydia and Reynold sitting too close at the table. For how much Javier loved his wife, he didn’t trust her. Not really. It’s why he left the black market in the first place. A rich, beautiful woman with a family fortune to flaunt would get caught in an instant. This was his final gamble. She chose you, remember? And he would always, forever, choose her. With this calm, Javier approached his wife and her ex-lover.

“Sorry about that.”

“What did you buy?” Lydia asked.

“Nothing. Alvin doesn’t have the stomach for tradeshows.” He turned to Reynold. “Don’t you have actual buyers to romance with your prestige?”

Reynold checked his watch. His eyes widened. “Lydia, as always, you are radiant. But I must go. I’m terribly late for an appointment.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to have kept you,” Lydia said.

Reynold paused, his muffin-brown hair drifted across one eye. “I wish you had kept me, Lydia. Besides this appointment is doubtfully my highest bidder.”

As Reynold left, Javier finished Lydia’s margarita. “Are we done here, darling?”

“But it’s barely noon, and there is so much to look at!” She pulled out the catalogue, explaining her choreographed shopping plan. For the first time, Javier didn’t mind. She could spend her father’s entire fortune for all he cared. Nothing could spoil this day.

“Why don’t you stay,” Javier said. “Buy us the best of the best. I’ve had my fill.”

Lydia squealed, jumped out of the booth, and Javier watched her disappear behind a giant anaconda cage.

***

When Lydia got home, Javier and Alvin were laughing on the porch, snifters in hand.

“Tell us,” Javier said. “Are we the proud owners of ten blue macaws? Three Burmese pythons?”

Lydia kissed him hard. “This was possibly the most fun day of my life. Thank you.” Her tone was full of love. “I bought you something.”

“Oh?” Javier smiled at the stars.

“I heard you talking to Reynold this morning. All that secrecy about hooded prestige. And darling, he showed me.”

Javier and Alvin sat up.

“You went to his room?”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic.” Lydia was all red lips and smile. “I know it’s a lot of money, but I want to make you happy. So, I bought it.”

“What?” Javier jumped to his feet. Alvin spit out his drink.

“Your red pen was all over his catalogue listing. I thought you’d be happy!”

Javier looked at his wife. “How much?”

Lydia blushed, which meant a lot, even for her. “What does it matter? It’s my money, like you said. I was trying to do something nice.”

Javier was speechless.

“Where is it?” Alvin said.

“It’s in the incubator.”

They ran to the kitchen. Two eggs, brown with deeply dark speckles, were warming side by side.

“Why did you put it in there?” Alvin cried.

“To keep it warm, silly. And so they’d be together.”

Javier and Alvin studied the eggs, one stolen, one purchased. Even they could hardly tell the difference.

Then Alvin, dear Alvin, started laughing. He laughed so hard and long that Javier and Lydia started laughing too. And the three of them laughed till their bellies ached and their tears ran out of salt.

Javier finally caught his breath. “What are we going to do?”

Alvin lifted his glass. “Sell them both, I guess!”