“What the hell?” I mumbled as my right eye and cheek began a constant pattern of twitching.
“Are you all right, Susie?” Laura’s eyes were large with concern.
“I think so… I don’t know. My face muscles are twitching. It feels crazy strange!” As quickly as it had all begun, the twitching stopped.
“That was so strange.” Becca exhaled in relief. “You sure you’re all right?”
I shook my hand out. The fingers felt a little tingly but I suffered from carpal tunnel syndrome and the feeling could very well have been from that.
“You better get to that doctor’s appointment, Susie,” Claire said. “We can meet again tomorrow and finish up the leg work. How do you all feel about next Tuesday morning as the big day?”
“As in less than a week from now?” I inquired as I gathered up my things.
“Yes,” Claire replied.
“Sounds good to me.” I got up and walked toward the door. It was going to be tough to make my appointment on time taking the bus.
“Hey, Susie?” Laura called to me from her seat just as I left the sitting room.
“What?”
“You want a ride?”
I had the best friend ever. “Absolutely.”
“Here.” Laura handed her outfit to Claire. “You keep it here. I don’t want Mia finding it and thinking it is dress up clothes.”
“I left my bag on my chair, will you please keep mine too, Claire?” I asked.
“I would be happy to hold onto everything here.” Claire gathered up the packages and placed them on a wing backed chair sitting on top of an area rug off to one side.
“Thanks!” Laura and I answered in unison.
“See you all tomorrow at ten?” I asked over my shoulder as we left the room together.
“Yes! Ten!” Claire called out and I couldn’t help but laugh at the excited tone to her words.
13
Bank of U.S
Laura dropped me off at the hospital just in time to meet with my neurologist. I talked to him honestly about the headaches and the strange twitching incident that afternoon. He assured me that the pain was normal. Brain trauma took months, sometimes even years, to heal and sometimes it never quite got all the way better. The headaches might be with me the rest of my life. When I asked about the twitching he said I had experienced a mild seizure. Seizures were often present following traumatic brain injury and if I still experienced them this far out, I may have to live with those forever as well.
If the seizures and headaches persisted or worsened over the next couple of weeks, he would prescribe migraine and epilepsy medication. I didn’t like this plan at all. What if I had a seizure during the robbery?
The bus ride home from the hospital was pure torture. My head ached and the bus was slow and cumbersome. By the time I made my way to my driveway from the bus stop, my vision was blurred and my stomach was turning. The fuzzy form of Joan Crawford standing in her yard across the street registered in my brain but I was in no mood to deal with her so I ignored her and made a break for the front door. As I slammed the heavy piece of wood closed behind me, I could hear strains of her nasally voice calling after me and the tone of warning that accompanied them.
I entered the kitchen where the boys were doing their homework and Ethel was busy preparing supper. Foods that normally would have made my mouth water just made my churning stomach want to heave. I kissed the kids and quickly excused myself to my room in search of some over the counter headache medicine.
The phone rang as soon as I got settled on my bed with a pillow pulled over my head. Thinking it might be Andy, I reached for the extension on my bedside table and mumbled a hello.
“Good evening. Mrs. Timmons?”
“Yes?” I grumbled into the phone.
“My name is Lawrence and I am calling from Bank of U.S. regarding your mortgage.”
“Hello Lawrence, what can I do for you?” I already knew. We were at least two months behind on the mortgage—maybe even more. It had been two payment dates since my accident and I knew there wasn’t enough money to cover them without my piddly Sub Heaven paycheck. After all, the kids had to eat.
“Mrs. Timmons, first let me say that this call is a request for collection on a debt. I will be recording the conversation and want to be sure that you are aware of that.”
“Okay.” What else could I say?
“We have not received your last two mortgage payments. As of right, now you owe the bank approximately three thousand two hundred and eighty-three dollars and fifteen cents.”
“Approximately? That sounds pretty specific to me.” I didn’t even try to mask the sarcasm in my voice.
Lawrence the debt collector just kept right on talking as though I had never said a word. “I am very sorry Mrs. Timmons but I have to inform you that if you do not bring your account up to date within thirty days, we will be forced to initiate foreclosure proceedings.”
“There is no way we can pay three payments. I was in a horrible car accident. I lost my job and spent several weeks in a coma. My husband is a cop…”
“I’m very sorry for your difficulties Mrs. Timmons but a mortgage is a loan and a loan is a debt that needs to be repaid.”
“But don’t you have programs? Things to help people like us? Remodification or forgiveness or something? My husband is a civil servant. Cops don’t make any money! How are we supposed to live? I have children!” I knew I sounded a bit hysterical but I just couldn’t help myself. My head hurt and my self-control had long since vacated the premises. Poor Lawrence had definitely chosen the wrong day to call the Timmons household.
“Mrs. Timmons, you have thirty days to bring your account current or we will initiate foreclosure. I am very sorry about your personal troubles. I am. But you are not the only one experiencing financial difficulties. If the bank granted favors to every sob story it heard, we would go out of business.”
Lawrence had gone from friendly bill collector to evil warlock in a matter of seconds. I could almost see the newly found green tint of his skin, the wart covered nose and the long, gnarled fingers. I wanted to reach through the phone line and slap him.
“Sob story? Is that what you think? Real things happen to real people, you know! You damned bank people think you can do whatever you want! If it weren’t for your kind the recession would never have happened!”
“Mrs. Timmons, you will be receiving written notification of this debt collection in the next two to three days. Have a nice day.” The hollow sound of the empty phone line rang loudly in my ear.
A sharp, stabbing pain stretched from my frontal bone above my eyes to the base of my skull. My right eyelid began to twitch. “Have a nice freakin’ day yourself, Lawrence!” I yelled into the phone before I slammed it down on the table.
The tears flowed like water from a broken pipe. I jumped from my bed, the room spun, my head throbbed. I screamed, I punched the wall, I stamped my feet.
The pain in my brain multiplied and I felt like my eyeballs were going to explode. Suddenly my whole right side went stiff and I fell to the floor.
I have no idea how long I was passed out on the bedroom floor. Why no one came to check on me I have no idea. But when I did eventually awaken, the headache was gone and I could move freely once again. I climbed into my bed and pulled the covers up to my chin.
I drifted off to sleep but awoke sometime the next morning when I heard Sammy running down the hall calling for me and his big brother following behind telling him to be quiet.
I wanted our old life back so much it ached deep in my gut. I missed the days of financial freedom and worry free living.
Then it hit me. Let Lawrence at Bank of U.S. send me all the notices he wanted to. After next Tuesday, I would pay them what we owed and experience financial freedom once again.
My whole body ached. I felt like I had been run over by a Mack truck but still I dragged myself out of bed and into the bathroom. I only had a couple of hours to get to Clair
e’s house and the buses were often unpredictable.
14
It All Comes Together
It took a lot longer than usual for me to shower and dress. Every muscle in my body ached and every movement held a special challenge. By the time the bus pulled up down the block from Claire’s house I was already completely spent. At least my head didn't hurt.
I trudged from the corner bus stop to Claire’s house. When I arrived, the other girls were already there. I could see Laura and Becca’s cars parked out front even from the corner where I got off the bus. A quick check of my watch indicated that they were early. At least I wasn’t late. The events of the night before had completely worn me out. I found myself moving slower and slower as the morning passed. Still, I managed to get a brisk clip going on the short walk to Claire’s house. I didn’t bother to knock. I just let myself in as soon as I got there. Since we were planning to rob a bank together it seemed silly to worry about etiquette.
All the other girls were already there.
“Hi, Susie!” Becca called from the front room as I entered the house.
“Hey,” I mumbled.
“What’s up?” Laura cocked an eyebrow and she studied my face.
“I’m ready to take control of my life, that’s all.”
“What happened? Something happened. You look like hell.” Laura stepped closer to me, her expression gravely serious.
“I had a bad night. It’s nothing.”
“Not so fast, Timmons. You look terrible. What happened? I am not asking nicely this time.” Laura planted herself in front of me, one hand on each hip.
I exhaled long and slow. Leaning against the same wall Laura previously occupied, I stared up at the ceiling.
“Susie? What is it? What happened?” The concern was clear on my friend’s face.
“We got a phone call. About the house. They are gonna foreclose on us if we don’t catch up on the payments in the next thirty days.”
“How many months do you owe?”
“It will be three. There’s no way we can come up with that sort of cash.”
“Is that all?” My friend reached out with a long forefinger and used it to tilt my chin up so that I had to look at her. “You already knew the mortgage was late. That’s one of the reasons we are doing what we are doing. There’s something else, isn’t there?” She eyed me curiously, unasked questions shining from her eyes. Suddenly a look of complete understanding washed over her. “Ah, the doctor’s appointment.”
Laura was a very perceptive person and sometimes it really pissed me off.
“Susie, what did the doctor say?”
“Traumatic brain injury can cause headaches and seizures.”
“But you already knew that.” Laura seemed confused.
“I know I did. I just thought that eventually they would go away.”
“And?”
“Well, sometimes they don’t.”
“Can’t they give you medicine for that?” Laura asked.
“Yeah, I guess. But he wants to wait.”
“For what?”
“To see if they get worse or not. My next appointment is on Thursday.”
“OK.” Laura mused, “So that’s only a week. You can make it for a week.”
“Sure, I can,” I snapped. “As long as my stupid, defective brain doesn’t go into overdrive on Tuesday!”
Laura didn't say anything. Becca and Claire were both watching us from in the sitting room.
“We should join them.” I motioned to the other room indicating that Laura should go in ahead of me.
“Is everything all right, ladies?” Claire asked.
“Susie went to the doctor. He said her headaches and seizures might be permanent. She goes back next Thursday to be reevaluated for meds. She’s worried something will happen on Tuesday morning.”
“Oh,” the other two women whispered in unison.
“Well,” Becca finally spoke, “I don’t think you should worry about that. Won’t stress bring on more seizures or something?”
“I agree with Becca,” Claire said. “No sense in worrying over milk that has not yet been spilled. Everything will be fine. I am sure of it.”
“I wish I could be as confident as you all are. It was pretty bad last night. I passed out on my bedroom floor.”
“Where was Andy?” Laura asked.
“I’m not sure. Either still asleep on the couch or already gone to work. I lost track of the time. My head hurt too bad to care.”
“Are you feeling any better this morning?” Claire inquired.
“Well, yeah, I guess I am. My head doesn’t hurt right now but I am completely drained. That and the phone call took a lot out of me.”
“Phone call?” Claire sounded confused. “What phone call?”
“The one I got from Lawrence of the Bank of U.S. informing me that if I do not pay all the back mortgage payments and bring our account up to date within thirty days they will foreclose on our home.”
“Oh, Susie!” Becca exclaimed as she jumped up from her seat and crossed the room, her arms open to hug me. I accepted the gesture but pulled away quickly to avoid a total emotional breakdown again.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Claire asked me. “Maybe we could have done something to help you. How horrible the stress must be.”
“Who wants to run around advertising to their best friends that they are going to lose their home because they are broke?” I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. “Besides, what could any of you have done? We are all in dire straits right now. Otherwise would any of us be here today?”
“No, I guess not.” Becca murmured, her face creased with worry as she peered at me from the seat she had returned to.
“I suggest that we go ahead with our meeting now, if no one objects?” Claire turned business again as she looked over at me, a question in her eyes.
“All right,” I agreed. “I guess there’s nothing I can do about my problems now anyway.”
“Except maybe pull off a perfectly planned bank heist to get the money to help resolve your problems.” Laura stated quietly. She did have a good point.
“If we are all ready then, I have something to show you.” Claire gestured to the sofas and chairs indicating that we should each take a seat. She then walked over to the easel and turned a large piece of paper around to face us.
The paper was divided into a grid, two inch by two inch boxes covered its entire surface. Etched into the grid was a perfectly sketched replica of the inside of the bank. Claire had recreated Becca’s impeccable drawing with every detail drawn to perfect scale. Black marker had been used to outline major shapes like the teller’s counter and the banker’s desks. Chairs were done in green, doors in purple, and security cameras noted with a bright, cheery red.
Four X’s in bright neon orange ink were drawn in various locations around the diagram. I could only assume the markings represented each of us. Penciled arrows in a variety of colors crisscrossed the paper, indicated projected pathways. Claire had obviously worked very hard on it.
“Wow!” Becca let out a low whistle.
“I agree,” I murmured as I studied the diagram. Claire had even taken the time to draw the vault room based on Becca’s descriptions from the day before. Little rectangles covered the paper indicating the various sized safe deposit boxes. The door of the vault had been outlined as well as the smaller holding safe.
“This is amazing, Claire.” Laura stated in obvious admiration. “You even included the light switches and fire extinguisher Becca mentioned.”
“Thank you, ladies, but really, Becca did all of the hard work.” She held up the sketch Becca had created the day before. “I just added some color and some detail to make it easier to outline our positions and movements.
“Well, you did an impressive job,” I commented, admiration in my voice as well.
“What do the X’s mean?” Becca asked.
“They represent us,” Claire answered as she gestured at the bo
ard. “If you note the positions; I have designed a plan where we are able to flank the entire lobby to keep people calm and discourage any heroism. We will enter the main doors as a group and then spread out to take up the various positions. These lines here show indicate the quickest paths through the lobby.” She motioned to the colored pencil markings.
I spoke up, “We all enter as one announcing ourselves and then spread out quickly. It is probably important to get all the guests and personnel on the floor to control them more easily, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. Excellent point, Susie.” Claire turned back to her diagram and pointed to an orange X. “Becca you are going to position yourself here at the back of the lobby.”
“Why do I have to be in the back?” Becca almost looked wounded at the thought of being exiled to the back of the room.
“Becca, dear, we need you to be there. You and your photographic memory and attention to detail will be able to see everything from there. If you notice anyone trying to be a hero, you can let us know quickly.”
“Oh, OK. That makes sense. That is a good place for me then.”
“Laura, I have you positioned here, by the entrance to the hallway leading to the vault. I will need you to cover my back when I send the head teller into the holding safe.”
Laura nodded her agreement.
“Once all of you are in place, I will approach the teller’s counter and demand the money. I will be counting on all of you to watch my back. I have this canvas bag.” She raised a large, black, duffel style bag up from a table behind the easel. “I will give it to the first teller and send her to the holding safe.”
“Where did you get the bag from?” Laura asked.
“I had it in a closet. My husband used to use it for the gym but now that he is overseas in some godforsaken, third world terrorist nation, I figured he wouldn’t be needing it for a while.”
The Heist Page 7
