He was getting more and more professional.
And charismatic.
Billy and I headed into the bank about ten minutes before closing time and lingered at a desk pretending to be busy. The Bank seemed larger than it was because it was all glass and light. Even on a dull, rainy day like this one, the interior was bright and spacious.
Billy wore his usual disguise.
It was a cold day, but I was sweating.
There were only two customers with tellers and an old guy looking through brochures near the manager’s office. The manager’s office door was closed, which was the way we liked it. We didn’t want a manager peeping out to see what was going on.
Billy walked up to the teller—she looked like a high school kid, not much older than me, small, lots of makeup, blond curls. I left the bank and stood outside.
I waited for a while and then I knew something had gone wrong. Billy should have been out at least a minute ago. I pushed open the door and looked inside. Billy was wrestling with the man who had been reading brochures. He didn’t look so old now. He clamped onto Billy’s arm like a vulture.
Just as some of the other bank workers started running over to help the man, Billy shook himself free, and erupted through the door. We ran together down the street. I handed him my shopping bag. Billy stuffed his disguise and the loot in the bag and shoved it back at me. Sweating and breathing heavily, he crossed the street and disappeared down a narrow lane.
Wondering if anyone had seen me, I continued to the end of the block, whispering to myself, “Stay calm. Stay calm.” I turned the corner, and made my handoff to Tom. Without a word, Tom crammed my bag into his backpack, casually crossed the street, and followed Billy to the station. I walked back to the corner and looked toward the bank. Everything, except my heart, was quiet. Then I heard a police siren, and I was out of there.
I collapsed onto the beanbag. “That was close, Billy.”
Tom threw himself onto his bed. “Too friggin’ close, if you ask me. Who was the guy who jumped you—a security guard?”
Billy sighed and lowered himself slowly onto his bed and assumed his usual position. “No. Don’t think so. He was just a madman who happened to be there. Maybe he saw the teller crying, put two and two together and jumped me.”
“The teller was crying?” Tom’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Billy was subdued. There was none of his usual devil-may-care attitude.
He said, “I think that’s what she was doing. I saw tears. But she didn’t make any noise. As a matter of fact, she was real quiet.”
Tom and I digested this disturbing information in silence.
“Poor kid,” I said.
Tom said, “I don’t like this. I never did. It’s a dirty business. We’re messing with people’s lives.”
I didn’t say anything, but I thought Tom was right. It was a dirty business. It was cruel to cause someone pain.
Billy said, “That bank had drop boxes. I saw them.”
This was new to me. “What’s a drop box?”
Billy leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling. “Each teller has a drop box. When the drawer starts filling up with bills they’re supposed to drop them through a slot in their desk into a security box—a kind of miniature vault—under the counter. They don’t have a key to get into it.”
“Oh yeah,” said Tom. “So what’s that got to do with the girl crying?”
Billy said gloomily. “Take a look in your backpack and maybe you’ll figure it out.”
We had completely forgotten about the money.
Tom picked up his backpack, pulled out my shopping bag and emptied it onto his bed.
Bills, bills and more bills—more than we’d ever seen.
Tom was speechless.
I was flabbergasted.
I looked at Billy’s gloomy face, and I wondered why the sudden change of mood, especially since the robbery appeared to have been such a winner. “What are you saying, Billy? That the girl hadn’t got rid of her overstocked bills? Bills she should have sent to the drop box? And that’s why she was crying? Not because she was scared?”
“That’s the way I see it,” Billy said wearily.
Now I understood. He felt sorry for the girl.
“She’ll be sacked,” I said. “That’s terrible.”
Billy looked even gloomier. “Yeah. Too bad for her…” He brightened a little. “But good for us.”
We counted the money. But our hearts were not in it.
The total was $2750.00.
It was the most we had ever made in one hit.
We were more than halfway to our goal.
But we didn’t celebrate. We were still thinking of the girl’s tears.
“We should give it back,” growled Tom, “and ask them not to fire the girl. Everyone makes mistakes. ‘Even monkeys fall from trees,’ my dad used to say whenever I messed up.”
Billy and I knew that giving back the money was not a practical solution, so we said nothing. Besides, the money brought us that much closer to the ten thousand we needed.
Tom started pacing the room. “Surely, there’s something we can do,” he said.
Tom was often a big pain in the butt—like grabbing the bathroom when it wasn’t his turn, and complaining about my ball-passing and my spaghetti-eating—but of the three of us, he had the softest heart.
SIXTEEN
APRIL 21
The next day, I was pulling on my raincoat, about to leave for school when Janice stopped me.
“Nell, before you go, I want to talk to you.”
She was serious. I tensed. Had she found out something?
“It’s about Billy,” she said.
“Yes?” I said cautiously.
Maybe she’d overheard our meetings. Maybe Lisa had heard something and had told her.
“It’s his birthday today.”
“Billy’s? Oh, I didn’t know that.”
“And I want to give him a little surprise tonight. His favorite supper, lasagna, and a big cake with strawberries.”
I smiled. “He’ll like that.”
“I tried telling Tom this morning, but I couldn’t get him alone. And the guys have already left. Could you ask Tom to keep Billy busy for an hour or so after school? They could go to the park and play basketball or something. Give us time to get supper all ready.”
“Sure. I could do that.”
“But don’t tell Billy. I want it to be a surprise. And here’s five dollars. Maybe you could buy him a little treat. He loves those Cadbury Fruit and Nut bars. Maybe you could get him a giant one at the drug store. Now you better get going, you’re late.”
The first bell had already rung by the time I got to school. The corridors were empty, so I didn’t see Tom. He wasn’t in any of my classes, so I’d have to grab him at lunch. I didn’t usually talk to Tom at school. We swung in different circles.
At lunch time I found him in the cafeteria, surrounded by fellow geeks. I brushed past him with my tray of soup and crackers.
“Got to talk to you,” I told him on my way to a table where Liesel would join me.
Tom followed me.
“What’s up?”
I scanned the cafeteria and spotted Billy in the food lineup. “It’s Billy,” I said. “It’s his birthday today, and Janice wants to give him a surprise supper. Can you meet him after school and go to the mall or play basketball or something for an hour while we get stuff ready?”
“Sure, no problem.”
After school the sun was dodging in and out of fluffy white clouds—a rare event. I was about to head over to Go Rite Drugs to buy Billy’s chocolate bar when I thought maybe I could get him something from my favorite store, Value Village. It wasn’t much farther away.
The clouds were reflected in the puddles. Shafts of sunshine shot down through the trees. Raindrops glistened on new green leaves. I felt good as I moved with purpose along the street.
There was always a musty, crusty smell in Value
Village, probably from the tons of unwashed clothes people donated. They were supposed to be cleaned, but I doubted it. The lighting, always on the dim side, was bright enough for me to see that the store was crowded. There were lots of oldies and several teens, but I didn’t recognize anyone from school.
Billy was not much into clothes, but I plowed through rows of wrinkled shirts and dusty pants in the men’s section. At the end of the rack of coats, I spotted a black leather jacket. My heart skipped. Maybe this was it, I told myself, slipping it off the hanger. The jacket was heavy. Must be the real thing, I thought, genuine leather.
I pulled it on over my raincoat. The leather was butter soft and enfolded me in a sweet leathery smell. It hung halfway to my knees. The sleeves dangled several inches past my hands. I thought it would fit Billy just fine. I smiled, thinking how cool he would look in it, like James Dean from the biker movies. Every time he wore it, he would think, “Yes. I got this cool jacket from Nails.”
I pulled out the price tag. $17. My heart sank. I’d already checked my wallet. Counting the five bucks from Janice, I had $12.63. That was my total wealth.
I looked around. No one was watching me. I could just walk out the front door. No one would notice. Heck, I just robbed a bunch of banks. Stealing a jacket would be child’s play.
I started moving down the row of racks, swishing past the musty clothes. There was a mirror at the end of the row. I stopped and looked at the shine of the leather in the reflection. I pushed the hair away from my face. In this light my hair looked almost black too. It was long enough to pull into a ponytail, but today I had left it loose.
“Yes,” I nodded to my pale face in the mirror. “This jacket is perfect for Billy. I’ve got to have it.” The Nails in the mirror nodded agreeably.
There was a sign beside the cashier. “Value Village profits go to a worthy cause. Thanks for your generosity.”
One of the cashiers, an older Asian woman, looked up and smiled at me, nodding slightly in the way some Asian people have, showing respect, I guess.
“Um,” I said before I even realized I was doing it, “could you keep this jacket for me? I’m just going home to get a bit more money.”
“We keep items just one hour,” she said, looking regretful. “That okay?”
“Yes,” I nodded.
“What name?”
“Name? Oh, it’s Nell.”
I knew exactly where I could get the extra cash.
When I got home, Janice was cooking. Spicy smells of oregano and tomato wafted up from the sauce simmering on the stove.
“Nell? Is that you?” she called from the kitchen.
“Hi, Janice,” I said at the kitchen door.
“Just have to finish beating up these egg whites. Cake should be ready in about an hour. Did you tell Tom about tonight?”
“Yes. Look, I have to go out again to get Billy’s present. But I’ll be back in plenty of time to give you a hand.”
I headed upstairs to my bedroom—and the stash under the floorboards. I’d grab just a few dollars. It was for a worthy cause, I told myself, a very worthy cause.
But once I was in the bedroom, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t take the money out of the box. That money was for a new bathroom so the four of us kids could stay here. It was not for anything else. Spending the money on other stuff would make the bank robberies wrong somehow.
Lisa came into the room.
“Hi, Nell,” she said. “I’m making a birthday card for Billy. A caterpillar changing into a butterfly. What do you think?”
“Cute. A birthday butterfly. Good idea. He’ll like it.”
“Do you want to sign it?”
“Sure.” I rummaged through my desk for a pen. “Say, Lisa. Do you have any cash?”
“Not much. Maybe five or six dollars in my froggy bank.”
I told her about the jacket and how I needed just five dollars more to buy it. “Then it could be from both of us,” I told her.
The Asian woman wasn’t at the cash register when I got there. And there was no sign of the jacket at her counter. I panicked.
“You were holding a black leather jacket for me,” I told the cashier, a thin young woman wearing so much mascara she looked like a raccoon.
“We keep items for only an hour,” she said, shrugging.
Then I spotted the jacket hanging on a rack waiting to be returned to the shopping area. I grabbed it and breathed in the leathery smell. I smiled to myself. Perfect.
The cashier folded the jacket and stuffed it into a big paper grocery bag.
When I got home, Janice called from the kitchen. “Nell? Is that you?”
“Yes, I’m home,” I told her as I shucked off my raincoat.
“Good. Can you come and give me a hand?”
Lisa was in the kitchen as well, mixing juice. “Did you get it?” she asked.
“Yes.” I smiled at her. “He’ll love it. Want to put the card inside?”
She did and I put the bag on Billy’s chair.
“What did you get?” Janice asked. “Sure doesn’t look like a chocolate bar to me.”
Before I could tell her, the guys bounced in. Janice hurried them out of the kitchen. “Can’t come in yet,” she told them. “We’re not quite ready.”
“What’s going on?” Billy asked. “First, Tom insists on playing basketball for more than an hour. And now we can’t come into the kitchen?”
“Come on, Billy. Maybe we can get our homework started.” Tom pushed him towards the stairs.
“But I’m starving,” Billy complained. “And whatever’s cooking in there smells so great. Can’t we at least get a snack?”
“Supper in twenty minutes,” Janice said. “Tops. Go up to your room and we’ll call you down as soon as we’re ready.”
After the boys went upstairs, I got the salad ready and set the table.
Joseph came home soon after.
“We’re almost ready,” Janice told him as she kissed him hello. “Want to call the guys?”
“Surprise!” we all yelled as the boys entered the kitchen.
“Happy birthday, Billy,” said Janice.
Billy’s usually sleepy eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. He raked his hair away from his face and grinned. “For me?” he said. “I didn’t think anyone would remember my birthday.”
“How could we forget one of our favorite kids in the whole world,” Janice said, giving him a hug. “Happy fifteenth, dear.”
Joseph shook his hand solemnly, then grabbed him in a jolly bear hug. “Happy birthday, big guy.” He handed him a small package wrapped in shiny green paper. “This is from Janice and me.”
Billy ripped off the wrapping. “Cool!” he said. “A digital watch! Thanks a lot.”
“It’s got an alarm,” Janice told him. “So no more excuses for being late or sleeping in.”
Lisa pushed me forward. I got the bag from the chair. “This is from Lisa and me.”
It was bizarre how shy I was feeling. He’d probably hate the jacket. He’d think it was just some grungy old thing.
Billy looked into the bag and pulled out the card. “Did you paint this yourself?” he asked Lisa.
“Of course!” She laughed, excited.
“Cool,” he said, grinning at her. “Thanks.” He bent and kissed her on the cheek.
Then he emptied the bag onto his chair. He took a step back like he was in shock. “No way!” he breathed. “No fantastical way!” He pulled on the jacket, and, as I had thought, it fitted him perfectly. He zipped it up and put a hand into one of the pockets. He shook his head and stroked the front, and for a moment he seemed to be in a daze. Then he said in a quiet voice, “My dad. He had a jacket just like this one. Same kind of pockets. Same smell. A big giant guy, he was. Rode a motorcycle. He used to give me rides around the block when I was real small. Haven’t seen him since he…” His voice trailed off.
Silence.
“Hey, guys. Lasagna’s growing cold,” Janice said quickly. “Let�
��s eat.”
Billy nodded and looked at me. Seemed to me his eyes were a little damp? “Thanks, Nell,” he said. His voice was husky. “Thanks a lot.” He turned to Lisa. “Thanks, Princess.”
It was a lovely birthday supper.
SEVENTEEN
APRIL 25
Less than a week later, I was standing with Billy outside the Canadian Imperial Bank on Broadway. Tom was in position around the corner on Commercial Drive.
It was raining—as usual.
When we had cased the bank a few days ago, I saw that there was no place out of the rain, so I had borrowed an umbrella from Janice when I left for school. Billy and I were sheltered under it as we waited.
If I looked up, I could see the elevated SkyTrain track over Ninth Avenue. Broadway station was only yards away. Tucked under my left arm was my brown shopping bag, handles to the top.
Billy watched the bank, waiting for a good time to go in. The street was busy with people coming and going to the SkyTrain station or shopping along Broadway. A panhandler on the other side of the street, filthy red scarf knotted around his neck, sat on the step outside Shoppers Drug Mart, oblivious to the rain. An old woman stopped and asked Billy something. I couldn’t hear over the traffic noises. She leaned her umbrella out of the way so as not to poke him in the eye. Billy pointed toward the train station and said something to the woman. She nodded and moved away.
We waited a while longer, and then Billy leaned toward me and said, “It’s time,” and headed into the bank.
I waited, shifting from one foot to the other. It was a cold day, but I was starting to sweat as usual inside my raincoat.
A bus roared by and I suddenly felt my shopping bag being ripped from under my arm as the rain-soaked panhandler, the guy with the red scarf— I hadn’t seen him cross the street—ran off with my bag in his hand.
Thief! Bag snatcher!
But I couldn’t yell. Attracting attention would mean disaster, the end of everything.
The panhandler probably thought my empty bag was a purse. But now what? I didn’t have anything for the handoff. As I was wondering what to do, Billy exploded through the glass door of the bank and I moved with him. I pulled my umbrella half closed and pointed it down to the ground. Billy, quick to understand, dropped everything into the umbrella. I clamped it shut. Billy took off into the train station. I hurried around the corner and made a handoff to Tom by emptying the contents of the umbrella into his backpack. He disappeared.
Bank Job Page 7