‘It’s a good question.’
‘Sure, for a rookie criminal like you. The reason it won’t be an issue forensically is because protocol dictates that the area will be cleared and the bomb squad will be called, and they’ll send in that little robot thing to remove the bag, then they take it out to a facility and do what’s called a proactive detonation.’ ‘But it’s not a real bomb, right?’
‘No, fuck no. It’s totally fake. But either way they blow it up as a precaution, and all they can do afterwards is sift through what’s left. By that time, you’re drinking Dom Pérignon and rubbing your face with Beluga caviar. The best part of the plan is that it sounds elaborate, but all you really need is a bag full of junk and a story. And, you know, enormous balls. But it’s genius, right?’
I nodded.
‘I think it might work,’ I said.
That night I cooked Vic a chicken and chickpea tagine. I left the garlic out because it upset his stomach. I was still awkward around him because of what I did on the couch the other night, but he seemed to have forgotten about it. He seemed really far away. He moved slowly, and sometimes he had to hold on to the table or the wall to steady himself.
After I cleared the plates, I asked Vic if he wanted to take the Black Shadow for a ride next week. He thought about it and nodded. He said it was a nice idea.
I helped tune up the Black Shadow that weekend. Vic sat on a crate and showed me what to do. I drained the sump and replaced the engine oil. I adjusted the clutch cables and tightened bolts around the frame. I patched the back tyre and checked the globes in the brake lights and the headlamp. Vic showed me how to grease the chain, and gave me a rat-tailed rasp to sharpen the sprockets. He was in a happier mood while I was working on the Black Shadow. Sometimes he looked at me with a little smile.
On Sunday afternoon, we got it running and Vic took it for a test ride around the block. He said it was good as new. He told me I did really good work which made me smile.
When I wasn’t working on the Black Shadow I was preparing for the robbery. I found a canvas duffel bag in the garage and shook all the spiders out of it, then I collected things to fill it with. I took an old pressure cooker from the back of a kitchen cupboard, and I grabbed a distributor cap and a timing belt and some loose wires from the garage. I strapped them to the pressure cooker with electrical tape to make it look like a fake bomb.
I trimmed Fella Bitzgerald’s wig to shoulder length and cut a fringe into it. From Edie’s wardrobe I chose a grey pantsuit and a black blouse and a pair of black ballet pumps. In a drawer of the vanity table I found a pair of rose-coloured sunglasses from the eighties that were so big and square that they covered half my face.
I tore blank pages from Edie’s diaries to write the note. I wore dishwashing gloves so there wouldn’t be fingerprints, and I wrote it with my left hand. I tried to remember all the details that Aggie told me. I messed it up dozens of times.
Everything was ready, except me. I was really anxious about it, but every time I thought of giving up, I remembered how unfair life had been for Vic. I wanted us to beat the bank before we left. I wanted us to outsmart them. I wanted to give Vic that bag of money and tell him that he got his revenge. I wanted to see him smile with surprise. I wanted to prove to him that I could do things. I wanted him to be proud of me.
The night before I didn’t sleep at all. I stared at the ceiling and kept going through the plan in my mind. I imagined waiting in line and keeping my head down. I imagined stepping up to the teller and handing them the note. I imagined them reading it, then quickly stuffing money into a bag. Then I imagined leaving the bomb in the bank and walking out. I went over it again and again.
I started applying make-up as soon as the sun came up. I chose a heavy contour and a plump lip to disguise my face a bit more. I brushed the wig out and gave it plenty of volume.
I put on my outfit and fit my hair and finished with the sunglasses. I stared at myself in the mirror for a long time.
‘That’ll have to do, kid.’
Late in the morning, I walked into the garage and found Vic wheeling the Black Shadow out onto the driveway. I made sure there were no neighbours around, then I followed him outside. He was wearing dark blue jeans and black leather gloves and a brown leather jacket. He looked younger and stronger.
Vic turned and looked at me strangely.
‘You sure you wanna wear that?’
I took a step back and looked down.
‘What I mean is, it’s better to wear a jacket and some thick strides in case we come off. You’re gonna get cold too when we open her right up.’
‘I’m going to wear this,’ I said.
‘Up to you.’
He pulled the bike onto its kickstand and went into the garage. He came back with the helmets and a pair of gloves for me.
‘What’s the bag for?’
‘It’s a surprise.’
‘Do you need it? Looks heavy. Might throw your balance for your first time on the bike.’
‘I need it.’
‘Fair enough. You ready?’
I hesitated for a moment.
‘Can we stop at the shops on Glenfield Road first?’
‘If you want. She’s not registered, so we’ve got to keep to the back streets anyway.’
Vic helped me put on Edie’s helmet. He fixed the chinstrap and gave the top a slap. He kept looking at me.
‘What?’ I said.
Vic got serious for a moment.
‘Listen, I want to have a word with you about some stuff tonight.’
‘What kind of stuff?’
‘I’ll explain.’
‘Do you want me to leave? Is it because of what happened on the couch?’
‘No, no. It’s not that. It’s a … good thing. Don’t worry. Come on, let’s get going.’
Vic climbed on, and he waved me up. It was hard sitting with the bag on my back.
‘You on? She’s not a big bike, so you’ll have to squeeze up. Pop your feet on these pegs here.’
Vic kickstarted the engine.
‘Still got the same purr!’ He smiled, then he reached for my hands and wrapped my arms around his waist.
‘Hold on tight, okay?’ he shouted.
‘Okay.’
‘Don’t shift around too much. You’ll be alright.’
We started moving. The street was empty. Even Mrs Boyd wasn’t outside. I held on tight to Vic and pressed my head into his back. I closed my eyes and felt every little bump and turn as I was carried along. I was so nervous I could barely breathe.
I opened my eyes just as the shopping plaza came into view. I tapped Vic on the shoulder and yelled out for him to stop at the park down the road. He pulled in under the shade of a big tree. I stepped off the bike and my legs felt heavy. I was a bit queasy.
‘You alright?’ Vic asked.
I didn’t say anything. I took off my helmet and looked across at the plaza. It had a newsagent, a health food store, a post office, a florist, a hairdresser, a small supermarket and a Western Mutual Bank branch.
‘I’ll be back in a few minutes,’ I said.
Vic nodded. I stayed where I was for a moment. I tried to take a deep breath, but my chest was so tight I couldn’t get anything into my lungs.
‘Sure you’re alright?’ Vic said.
I wanted Vic to guess what I was about to do and stop me, but he didn’t.
‘I’m okay,’ I said.
I walked across the road and stared straight ahead. It was terrifying being dressed up in public during the day. There were a lot of people around. I expected them to stop and stare at me, but nobody took any notice. I stopped outside the bank. I waited for the calm feeling I usually got when I was shoplifting or stealing, but all I felt was dread and fear. It made me even more nervous.
The sliding doors suddenly parted, and a customer stepped out. It was an older man wearing a neck brace, and he gave me a little smile as he went past. I didn’t have a choice. I went inside while
the doors were still open.
It was quiet in the bank. There were two tellers at the counter, and a lady waiting in line with a really thick folder. I stood behind her in the queue. My heart was beating really fast and I couldn’t swallow. I glanced around to see if anyone was looking at me suspiciously, but everyone was busy.
The lady in front got called to the counter. Then the doors opened and an old woman came in on a mobility scooter. She rode right up behind me. Then a tradesman in a fluorescent work vest and navy shorts and big boots came in straight after. I blinked really hard behind the glasses. Everything was tinted pink. I felt dizzy. It was hard to stay on my feet.
Then a teller became available. She was young and pale and chubby with dyed red hair. The badge on her lapel said Suzanne. She smiled at me.
‘Next please.’
I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to run away. But the old lady started rolling forwards on her scooter and Suzanne waved me over so I stepped out. I went to the counter.
‘Welcome to Western Mutual, how can I help you?’
My hands were shaking. I reached inside my jacket for the note, but it wasn’t in the pocket. I reached as deep as I could, then I tried the other side, but that pocket was empty too. I realised what I had done. I had forgotten the note. It was still on Edie’s vanity table. I could feel sweat starting to drip from under the wig.
‘How can I help you today?’ Suzanne asked again, still smiling.
I froze. I didn’t know what to do. The door to the bank opened and a young woman came in pushing a pram with twin toddlers. I could see the car park through the doors, and the park beyond. I wanted to run. Then the doors closed.
‘Miss?’
I didn’t want to speak, so I pinched my thumb and my finger together and made a gesture in the air like I wanted to write something. Suzanne did a slow nod.
‘Ohh, okay, I understand.’
She turned to the teller on her right, who was still busy with the person with the thick file.
‘Excuse me, Irene, you speak Auslan don’t you?’
‘No, that’s Gwen. I think her nephew is deaf? The one who had the meningitis.’
‘Where is she?’
‘She’s in with Paul.’
‘Okay.’
Suzanne turned back to me and held her index finger up, then she spoke loud and slow.
‘One moment, please.’
I made the writing gesture again, but Suzanne just spoke even louder.
‘It’s okay, I’m getting somebody who can help you!’
She went into a separate office. I felt like I was trapped in a bad dream and I couldn’t wake up. Behind me, the old lady sighed impatiently. Suzanne came back with a woman wearing a cable knit sweater. A pair of reading glasses hung around her neck on a chain. Her name badge said Gwen.
She started using sign language to speak to me. I didn’t know what any of it meant. I kept making the writing gesture. The doors to the bank opened again, and a middle-aged man speaking on his phone walked in and joined the queue. One of the twins in the pram started crying, and the mother bent over to comfort him.
Suzanne got me a pen and a sheet of paper to write on. I started writing with my left hand, but I still had gloves on and I was shaking and I couldn’t write fast enough, so I swapped back over.
‘What’s going on?’ the lady on the scooter asked.
‘We’ll be with you in a moment, ma’am,’ Suzanne said.
‘Can’t the other girl open a window?’
‘I’m not authorised for that, I’m afraid,’ said Gwen.
‘I just want to hand in a cheque.’
‘I’ll process that for you in a moment, ma’am. Thank you for your patience.’
I tried to remember all the details in the first note, but I was under so much pressure that my mind went blank. I panicked and wrote as much as I could.
There is a bomb in the bag.
A man has my family hostage.
He wants the large notes from the cash drawer.
If I don’t bring him the money he will kill my family and
blow up the bomb remotely.
I slid the note across the desk.
Gwen put on her glasses and read the note with Suzanne, who gasped and put her hand over her mouth and stared at me. Gwen frowned and read through the letter again. She looked at me over her glasses.
‘Is this true?’ she asked.
‘They should put more staff on,’ the old lady complained behind me.
Gwen raised her voice. She sounded mad.
‘Is this true?’
I didn’t say anything.
‘Speak to me! Now!’
I nodded.
The tradesman in the queue stepped out.
‘Everything alright?’
‘I’m going to ask you to stand back please, sir. We have a situation.’
Gwen didn’t take her eyes off me. Suzanne looked afraid.
‘What kind of situation?’ asked the mother.
The tradesman came closer.
‘Is there a problem?’
I saw Suzanne’s hand reach under the counter and I panicked. I snatched the note from Gwen and I backed away. I started to walk quickly towards the doors. Gwen called out.
‘Come back here!’
‘What’s going on?’ said the old lady.
I could feel everyone staring at me. The tradesman followed me. He reached out and grabbed the bag.
‘Hey! Stop!’
I slipped my shoulders out of the straps and left him holding it. Then I ran out of the bank. I sprinted across the car park and back across the road to where Vic was waiting.
‘Go, go, go!’
‘What’s the matter?’
‘We need to go. We need to go now!’
I put the helmet on and climbed onto the bike and put my arms around Vic’s waist. I looked back towards the bank, but nobody was chasing me.
Vic started the bike and we pulled away.
‘Faster, faster!’
As we sped off I saw the mother with the pram and the old lady on the scooter coming out of the bank. The tradesman was already outside and waving at other shoppers, telling them to leave. I turned away and closed my eyes tight.
We rode for a while. I tried to focus on being swept along by the bike, but I got so anxious that I started beating on Vic’s shoulder. He pulled over and I leaned over and vomited. It was yellow and slimy and it burned my throat.
‘You alright?’
‘Can we go home?’
‘Bit bumpy is it? That’s okay mate. It’s not for everyone.’
I heard sirens in the distance, and I retched again. I didn’t have anything left inside me. It was like I was turning myself inside out.
‘I’ll ride real slow. You’ll be right.’
‘No!’ I said. ‘Go fast. Please. Go fast.’
I fought my stomach all the way back. Every time Vic stopped at an intersection I hid my face and waited to be dragged off the back of the bike and pinned to the ground and handcuffed. I thought every driver in every car must know who I was.
When we got back to Vic’s place, I jumped off the Black Shadow and quickly pulled up the garage door. Once Vic wheeled the bike inside, I slammed it down again. Vic took his helmet off and put the bike on its stand.
‘What’s going on? Where’s your bag?’
‘Vic, I did something really stupid.’
Vic took off his gloves and jacket.
‘What?’
‘I tried to take money from that bank.’
‘What do you mean? How?’
‘I told them I had a bomb.’
‘You what?’
‘In the bag. It wasn’t real or anything.’
‘Hold up a second, what are you saying to me? You just tried to rob that bank?’
‘I wanted you to get your money back.’
He stared at me with his mouth open for a moment.
‘What the bloody hell were you thinking?’
‘It’s what you wanted! It’s the thing you dreamed about doing!’
‘No! I told you I didn’t want that!’
Vic’s face was red and his voice was loud.
‘I know! I know you did! But I wanted to show you I could do it. I wanted to help you like you helped me! But it didn’t work. And now I’m in trouble and I ruined everything. We should have just gone for a ride, but I ruined that too. I know. I’m sorry.’
Vic took a deep breath and rubbed his forehead.
‘It’s wrong, mate. Stealing is wrong.’
I got really upset at that and suddenly I was shouting too.
‘Well, I’m wrong! Okay? I’m all wrong! And I do wrong things!’
I ran into the house and went to the bathroom and locked the door. I wrenched off the wig and pulled off Edie’s pantsuit and blouse and got in the shower and turned on the cold water. I scrubbed away the make-up and then I slid down the shower wall and put my head in my hands and retched again. After a while I started shivering.
I don’t know how long I sat like that before Vic knocked on the door.
‘Sam? Sam! What are you doing in there?’
I didn’t want to answer him because I was so ashamed.
‘Sam? Talk to me! Are you alright?’
I heard a loud bang, and I flinched. I looked up. There was another big crack. A chunk of the frame came loose and the door swung open.
Vic rushed in and grabbed me.
‘Are you alright? What have you done?’
‘Nothing. I’m okay. I’m sorry.’
Vic looked relieved. He turned the water off. He was soaking wet. He sat down with his back against the base cabinet and started coughing and wheezing. He didn’t stop. I crawled towards him and rubbed his back. Vic blinked hard. His face was purple and his eyes were wide and he grabbed my arm. He had this awful wheeze and he couldn’t breathe in. I was really scared. Finally his chest cleared. He kept holding my arm. He coughed up a wad of bloody phlegm, and he turned his face and it dribbled out of his mouth onto the bathroom floor. His eyes were red and watery and he sucked in air.
‘I’m tired,’ he said.
I helped Vic down the hall and onto his bed. Then I went to the kitchen to get him a glass of water. His eyes were closed by the time I got back. I kneeled down beside him.
Honeybee Page 16
