“That’s it?” she said. “How come you’re not doing any of the baking? I should really talk to your boss.”
“He’s too busy to talk to you.”
She wanted to laugh. Trevor was way smarter than anyone thought. Quick, too. “Of course he’ll talk to me. Do you blow off the people you work with, too?” she said. Yeah, she’d walk in with him, have a chat with his boss, maybe pick up a coffee and cookies and take them with her when she stopped in at Steven’s job site. She had way too much time on her hands.
“Nope,” he stated so matter of factly.
“When’s the last time Mom stopped in and talked to your boss?”
He was frowning again. “Last week,” he stated. Yeah, he still didn’t have the concept of time down. Right.
She tapped the steering wheel with her fingers. “Hey, Trevor, check my purse and see how much cash I have.” She didn’t want to use her debit card because she couldn’t remember how much she had in that account. She glanced to Trevor as she stopped at the red light. He pulled out her wallet and opened it, then checked her coin purse.
“Oh, lots,” he said and started pulling out nickels and pennies and dimes. Great, broke.
“No dollar bills?”
“Nope. Just this.” He held out the handful of coin, which was pretty pathetic. Another thing they all knew was that he’d still not picked up the concept of money. It was just too abstract for him. Maybe this was something else she could do.
“I’m going to swing by the bank first to get some cash before I take you to work.” She pressed the gas, seeing the store ahead and her bank across the street.
“No, no, take me to work first.” He gestured to the store as she drove past and signaled left, pulling into the parking lot of the bank, the lone square building.
“It’ll just take me a second. Chill, Trevor. It’s good to do things a little differently. Shake it up a bit. You get too focused on doing everything the same all the time.”
“No, I don’t.” He was ready to argue and was still looking over to the grocery store across the street. “I can walk.” He climbed out of the Jeep the same time she did.
All she did was laugh. “Nice try, but no. You can wait for me, cash first, and then I’m going with you so you can introduce me to everyone you work with.”
“But, but…I’m going to be late.” He was reaching for his backpack in the back seat.
“Trevor, dude, seriously, you’re not going to be late. You have lots of time. Now, you can either wait in the Jeep or come with me to the bank.” She noted his frown when he went to get back in the front seat of the Jeep after he’d closed the back door. “You know what? On second thought, Trevor, you can come with me instead of sitting out here, doing nothing.”
He stood there, the front door open, staring at her and then the bank, then shook his head. “Uh, nope, I’m good.” This time he did start to get into the Jeep.
“Trevor, get out of the Jeep now. You’re coming inside. Let’s go, because the longer you take, the longer it will take to get you to work.”
This time he sighed, stepped out of the Jeep, and closed the door, and she could see how she was pulling him from his comfort zone. Good.
3
“You’re bossy.” He muttered under his breath as he stood beside Katy in line. They were behind a lady in stripes and jeans that were green instead of blue and pulled at the seams. They were way too tight, he thought, and she was impatient as they waited to use the bank machine.
Katy pulled her gaze to him and stared at him. Her eyes were blue, and she pulled her brows together, causing wrinkles to form at the bridge of her nose.
“You shouldn’t do that.” He reached up and touched the wrinkles to smooth them, and she made a face and swatted his hand away.
“Okay, that’s it, Trevor. Get your hands down and leave my wrinkles alone. They’re mine, not yours, and stop complaining. You’ve been getting away with not having to talk or having your too-rigid routine shaken up by doing something different instead of the same old. Who cares if we drive a different way or go to the bank first before you go to work? You need to be open and flexible enough to go with it…”
The lady in front of them moved forward, and he put his hand on Katy’s elbow and moved her up even though she was still talking. One more person gone. They were almost there. An old lady with white hair and wrinkles was hunched over at the machine, her hand shaking as she tried to press the buttons. He wished she’d hurry up, because he needed to get to work, to sort the bags, to package the cookies.
Katy tapped his shoulder. “Trevor, I’m over here. Pay attention to me and what I’m saying. Besides, you didn’t answer me.” She was holding that baggy purse with the fringes, and he wanted to reach over and straighten them.
“About what?” This was taking too long. He was going to be late for work.
“See? You weren’t listening again. I can always tell. I asked you if you’ve ever had lunch with any of your coworkers and if you know anything about them—”
“Everybody get their hands up!” a man yelled.
Trevor stared at Katy. Her face had suddenly gone white, her eyes widened, and she grabbed his arm and pulled him. He didn’t know where to look. Someone screamed, he thought, and he looked over to the counter, where there had been two women and another man in a glassed-in office in the back. People in brown and black coats were screaming, someone bumped him, and he fell back on his butt and hit the floor. He turned over on his stomach, his hands on the dirty concrete, and he spotted a candy wrapper—gold, Werther’s. He should pick it up and put it in the garbage.
“On the floor! Everyone get down on the floor now! Eyes down. Don’t look at me.”
He felt a hand again on his arm, squeezing so tight, and he turned to see Katy on the floor beside him, her hair a mess because it had been pulled loose from the clip. He could see how wide her eyes were, and he could see she was scared. He could always tell the many moods of Katy. There was scared Katy, sad Katy, happy Katy, and there were all the other ones he didn’t really understand, which fell into that gray area of a kind of happy or sad or tired or something.
He turned his head, seeing the fat lady with thick dark hair whimpering and making a godawful noise. She was the one who had knocked him down, and she had on a blue striped shirt. Her bra was showing, and he tried to look away as he held up his hand to cover his eyes. He went to reach over to pull her shirt closed, but Katy slapped his hand and stared at him, wide eyed, the kind of look that told him to stop it. She obviously didn’t see the problem, so he pointed. She made an odd face and sharply gave her head a shake, putting her finger to her lips to be quiet, so he turned his head, making sure not to look at the lady on the floor.
He saw two men standing, the only two standing, and they had guns. One was in faded jeans, the other in ugly brown ones like Steven wore when he went to work. They had a small tear beneath his knee, and white threads were showing. They had ski masks on. One wore the kind that looked itchy, green with a white stripe. He knew that was wool because he didn’t like wool. It itched his skin. The other guy in the jeans had on a black ski mask and was pointing his gun, turning in a circle, looking at everyone. Both had on hoodies, one brown, the other black and red.
He could see a man in a suit crouched by the rope tied to those weird steel poles that everyone lined up between as they waited their turn. It was orderly, but he could see one of the poles was going to fall. He pressed his hands to his ears right before the crash, and one of the guys with the guns yelled at the man. He shouldn’t have pulled on the rope like he had. There were three other women, a stroller, and a little kid shrieking. He kept his hands over his ears because he hated that high-pitched shriek, but the kid was really loud.
“Get that kid to stop crying,” he said and turned to Katy.
She shook her head, still holding his arm. “Shh, just be quiet…”
“You over there! Seriously, do you want to get shot?” a man yelled.
“It’s all right.” Trevor sat up on his knees and moved in front of Katy. “Don’t shoot.”
“Trevor, what the hell are you doing? Get down here,” Katy said.
The guy jerked and swung the gun between him and Katy as if he didn’t know where to point it, but all Trevor could see was the steel of the gun when it pointed right at him. The hole was bigger than he remembered, and he knew you never pointed a gun at someone. His dad had talked to him about guns and how dangerous they were. He never touched the guns his dad hunted with, because they were always kept locked in a glass cabinet. They were dangerous and not something he would ever, ever touch.
“You shouldn’t point that at me. It’s dangerous,” he stated.
The guy had a gold band on his finger, his arms had light hair and freckles, and the sleeves of his deep red and black hoodie were pushed up. His arms looked strong like his dad’s.
“Get down now! Face to the floor, both of you,” the man yelled at him. No one had ever yelled at him. The guy jerked the gun at him again.
“Okay, okay, don’t hurt my sister,” he said and slid down, Katy still behind him.
The guy was still standing there, and then he heard the other in the dark mask yell something as he stood at the counter. The woman behind it was scared, he thought, as she handed over dollars and he stuffed them in a bag. It was a blue bag like the small overnight suitcase his mom packed for him when he went to his uncle Neil’s for the night. Money spilled out, and the guy was hurrying across the floor, holding the gun—a pistol, he thought, something like his dad had. Then the other guy stepped back, pointing his gun at him and then away, and they both pushed open the glass door and ran out.
Then everyone was talking, shouting. Someone else was crying, and that kid was howling that awful high-pitched annoying shriek, and he wished someone would do something about it.
Katy was still shaking, and Trevor was brushing off his beige jacket, pulling it down. He even held out his hand to the large dark-haired lady who’d asked—no, demanded he help her up. Katy had called Steven, and she stared at her phone, unsure if he would hear the message she’d just left right away. She couldn’t remember what she’d said, only that she was freaking out because never in her life had she ever been in the middle of a bank robbery.
A robbery! She was still trying to come to grips with the fact that Trevor had almost gotten himself shot because he’d done something she’d never expected him to do: put himself between her and danger.
“You all right?” Trevor said to the old lady who had been at the ATM before all hell broke loose. He was now even helping her up, pulling on her arm in a way that Katy thought might yank it from the socket. Her cell phone rang, and it was automatic for her to answer and press it to her ear.
“Katy, what the hell?” It was Steven.
She pressed her hand to her forehead, curling her fingers into the skin to try to pull herself together, but she wanted to scream and yell and freak out and jump up and down, likely from the shock that had her adrenaline running at full throttle. Yup, her fight or flight was in overdrive.
“You were in a robbery? Where are you? Are you hurt?” His voice was pulling her in, and something about having him on the phone with her helped more than she could have explained to anyone. It would be better if he were there with her.
“At the bank with Trevor. There were two guys. They pulled a gun, told us to get down, and then I didn’t know what Trevor was going to do. He said something to me. I was just trying to get him to be quiet, and then one of them was over here, pointing his gun right at us, and Trevor all of a sudden went on his knees, and…”
She turned to face her brother. She couldn’t believe it. It couldn’t be possible. In reliving the moment over and over, she felt it had become absolutely surreal. Then she saw the old lady pushing away from him and actually swatting at his hand, his arm, scowling, because—
“Hey, hey, what are you doing?” Katy said.
Trevor pulled his arms back and blocked the old woman, who was smacking at him.
“Katy, answer me, which bank are you at?” Steven said.
She had to pull herself together as she moved over to where Trevor was with the ungrateful old lady, who was actually yelling at him and hitting him. No, no, this was not okay, and she’d be damned if someone did that to her brother.
“You just about ripped my arm right out of its socket! A young thug, you are. You could have hurt me, boy. Don’t you have parents to teach you better? Kids these days are all like thugs, careless, thoughtless—”
“Hey! Don’t you dare talk to my brother that way. If it wasn’t for him, you’d still be flat on your ass on the floor, struggling to get up. He did the best he could, and he didn’t have to offer you any help. You’re being just downright mean and nasty, and how dare you raise a hand to him?” she snapped.
She could hear Steven yelling through the phone and realized she was holding it at her side. She turned away from the wide-eyed grandma, who had likely never been called out before for her cranky behavior. She had tight lines around her mouth, maybe from a lifetime of frowning.
“What? Sorry, Steven. I’m just—good God, it’s like everyone’s gone crazy…”
Then the police were there. She didn’t know when they had come in, but a female cop was now in front of her, gesturing to her.
“Hang up now,” she said. “I need to get a statement from all of you.”
“It’s my husband…” Katy said and pressed the phone to her ear again, because there was no way she was hanging up. Her hand was in her hair, which was falling free from the clip. “I’m at First National, across from the market where Trevor works… Oh, crap! Trevor’s job. Call Mom and Dad, let them know someone will have to call his boss. I don’t know how long we’ll be.”
She took in the cop, who was now in front of Trevor, and she could see in that second that the woman had figured out by the conversation that something wasn’t quite right. She heard him ask her about Lego The Incredibles figures, and she knew it was time to go, to intervene, to put a stop to all this madness. “Steven, I’ve got to go. The cops are talking to Trevor—not good, seriously…”
“Look, I’m on my way, babe,” he said.
She pocketed her phone as she walked over to where Trevor was talking to the cop, and she took in the smile that touched the cop’s lips.
“So Lego Incredibles were here, robbing the bank?”
“No, that’s a video game! They can’t rob a bank!” Trevor said, gesturing.
“Ah, excuse me. That’s my brother you’re talking to, and he has autism. I’m not sure he’ll be much help—”
“No, I don’t,” Trevor said, cutting her off. It was always the same when they told people he had autism. No, he didn’t, he would say, but at the same time, he didn’t know what it was. “But I saw him,” he continued, “and he shouldn’t have pointed the gun at me. He pointed it at my sister. They were bad men. Guns are dangerous, and he was mad and he was going to hurt my sister. I protected her. I won’t let them hurt you, Katy.”
Holy crap! She didn’t know what to say. This was not a side of Trevor she’d ever seen. Not to mention he never said that much, ever, let alone a sentence like that. She could feel her jaw slacken, wondering who this Trevor was. She realized the cop was staring at her oddly as if she understood everything about Trevor and found nothing unusual. She just needed to pull her aside and chat with her.
“Your brother here sounds brave.” The cop in the blue uniform smiled at Trevor. Burke, her nametag said. “So let’s start with your names. I’ll get a statement
from both of you.”
The cop started with her, and she rattled off everything she could remember. At the same time, she didn’t know what she was saying, hearing the sound of her own voice, which was far from calm.
“Katy?”
She heard the knock on the glass and the shout and turned, seeing Steven there just outside the bank, a cop holding him back. He’d tapped on the window and was talking to the cop, obviously telling him who he was and pointing to Katy.
“That’s my husband,” Katy said.
The female cop gestured to her partner, and next thing she knew, Steven was inside the bank and striding straight for her, looking around as if taking in the entire scene. He wore a navy shirt and brown cargo pants, dirt from the job site covering his shirt. His dark hair held bits of what she thought was sawdust, and he was so tall and his shoulders so broad. She just wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her, because he made her feel safe.
“Hey, you okay? You sounded freaked out when you called. A robbery, seriously?” He had his hands on her arms and pulled her into a hug, and it was instinctual to go on her tiptoes, her arms looped around his neck, holding him as he held her. Then she pulled away after he kissed her cheek, and there was something about him being there now that grounded her, that helped. He was holding her hands now.
“Yeah, two guys robbed the bank, and holy crap, one of them pointed a gun at me…” She stopped talking because she spotted Trevor talking to the lady cop, and there was another one there, as well, talking with a girl who was maybe in her early twenties, she thought, with soft brown hair in waves. What was Trevor saying to her?
“Ah, we should…” She gestured to Trevor. Steven knew, as he walked with her over to the cops and Trevor, his hand lingering at the small of her back.
“He had a burn on his neck,” the girl said.
“From the wool. It was itchy,” Trevor added.
A Reason to Breathe Page 2
