Brake Failure

by Alison Brodie

  ‘Yes!’ The word was out before she realised it. ‘No! … I don’t know!’

  He laughed. ‘I shouldn’t be asking you now, sweetheart. You won’t be in your right mind after five hours in that bank.’

  In that moment, Ruby knew she had a choice. Freedom with three million dollars. Or Hank.

  She wanted Hank, she wanted him with a deep physical ache, but she also wanted freedom: something she had never had before. And so far, she’d only had ten minutes of it. Ten minutes. A mere taste. But she wanted more! And she would have it!

  ‘Hank, listen. If you really, really love me, you will let me go. I will come back to you, I promise. But right now, I’m fine. I just want you to get off the train and leave me.’

  ‘Leave you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You want me to leave you on this train?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘Hank …’ How could she explain? ‘I’ve been chained up too long.’

  ‘In the bank?’

  ‘No. In my life. I just want to be free. To be me. Just for a little while. If you love me, you will let me go. And I will come back to you.’

  ‘You haven’t thought this through, Ruby. What about your family? They’re worried out of their minds.’

  ‘Tell them I’m okay.’

  ‘Ruby, this is crazy.’ As he shifted, the beam of his flashlight zig-zagged, illuminating the whisky bottle and then the backpack. He pushed the pack aside. A beam of bright light lit up the mountain of cash.

  ‘It’s not what it looks like-’ she began hurriedly. The flashlight was back on her chin.

  Hank was waiting for an explanation.

  She went for the least incriminating evidence. ‘The whisky - that was a leaving gift from the girls in the bank.’

  ‘And the money?’ he stated. ‘Was that a leaving gift, too?’

  She shivered, fearful of the steely note in his voice. ‘So, you want to marry me?’ she said brightly, hoping to change the subject.

  ‘What are you doing with this money, Ruby?’

  ‘I need it for my trip.’

  ‘Your trip? How nice.’ His voice oozed sarcasm. ‘And where are you headed?’

  She waved a hand. ‘The prairie.’

  ‘How much cash did you take?’

  ‘I haven’t counted it yet.’

  ‘You haven’t counted it?’

  His sarcasm was irritating her. ‘The money will be insured,’ she stated crisply. ‘And it was just sitting there … in boxes.’

  ‘How many boxes did you empty?’

  ‘All of them.’

  ‘You … you took all the money?’

  ‘Not all of it. I left a twenty dollar tip for the Federal Marshall.’

  ‘Well, to save you the bother of counting your loot, I can tell you how much you’ve got.’

  She waited in anticipation.

  ‘Three million dollars,’ he said flatly.

  She gazed down at the pile of money with a new respect. ‘Fuck.’

  ‘This looks bad, Ruby. You don’t know how bad. Thank God no-one followed me.’

  Three million dollars! Three million dollars!

  ‘Are you listening, Ruby? You’ve robbed a bank. Don’t you understand that? I’m going to ask you a question …’

  Three million dollars! Three million dollars!

  ‘RUBY!’ He clicked his fingers in front of her face, snapping her out of her trance. ‘I’m going to ask you a question. And I want an honest answer. Got that?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Was this premeditated?’

  ‘Premeditated?’

  Hank leant forward. ‘How long have you known Cindy Prudhomme?’

  ‘I met her this evening for the first time.’

  ‘Clever,’ he murmured. ‘She got you out with the money so she could pick it up later.’

  ‘It was my idea to take the money. There was so much of it, I just couldn’t resist.’

  ‘Why are you covering for her? She was there to rob the bank.’

  ‘No, she wasn’t. She was there to get the feds to find her scumbag boyfriend. None of us knew about the deposit boxes. Then when I decided to leave, I figured I’d need some cash, a hundred or so, but instead …’

  ‘You took the lot.’

  ‘Listen, Hank, we can share it. Come with me. Just for a few months. Let’s go wild, be free! Then we’ll come back to Kansas City, get married and settle down.’

  ‘You’re not making me a part of this.’

  Ruby was still feeling for the gun - desperate to find it and throw it out into the night. It was as if Hank had sensed her movement, because he aimed the flashlight down along her arm. She froze. Inexorably, the light moved on, over her seeking fingers and stopped directly on the gun, picking it out like a silent exclamation.

  ‘Fuck,’ he whispered.

  She chuckled. ‘It’s just a piece of junk. Cindy bought it in a garage sale.’ She switched on the flashlight that was still jammed between her knees. ‘Look. It doesn’t work.’ She picked up the gun, feeling the cool, snug fit in the palm of her hand and squeezed the trigger. The pistol jumped, the sound exploded, and a tongue of fire reached out and licked Hank just below his shoulder, and he screamed.

  Ruby froze. ‘What … what happened?!’

  ‘You shot me!’

  Rowdy, terrified by the noise, was pushing against Ruby, trembling. Hank’s torch had dropped from his hand and was now rolling over the floor. Ruby saw Hank gripping his left shoulder; she also registered that she was now staring down the barrel of his gun.

  ‘I’m ordering you to drop your weapon,’ he snarled.

  It was then she realised that they were aiming their guns at each other. She dropped hers immediately. ‘Hank, I didn’t mean to!’

  ‘I knew you didn’t care for me, but I never thought you hated me.’

  ‘How can I hate you, when I love you?’

  The words hung in the air between them.

  Hank’s voice was cautious. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I love you.’ She stared into his face, a face she yearned to touch. In that moment, she wanted to crawl across the floorboards and cuddle up in those strong, reassuring arms; to smell that male, musky scent of him; to feel the touch of his hard hands on her skin. The trouble was: any sudden movement and he was liable to shoot.

  ‘How can I believe you when I’ve got your bullet in my shoulder?’

  ‘It was an accident.’ Ruby was trying to gauge the extent of his injury. ‘But you’re going to be okay, aren’t you? Please say you will.’

  ‘It’s just a flesh wound. I’ll live. But I’m losing blood, fast. We’ve got to get off this train ’cos there’s no doctor where we’re headed.’

  As she scrambled to her feet, she saw the brightly-lit signpost appear out of the night: SHADY ACRES RETIREMENT HOME.

  ‘Shady Acres!’ she cried. ‘They’ve got nurses.’

  Hank edged towards the doorway, groaning with each painful movement in his shoulder. She was right behind him, holding Rowdy in her arms. Hank swung his legs over the side and jumped. Landing on the ground, he staggered but stayed upright then turned to her, a hand outstretched. ‘Jump, Ruby. Jump!

  Hearing those words, something inside her made her freeze. She stood paralysed. She gazed at the ground moving slowly by. She couldn’t move.

  Hank was shuffling alongside. ‘Jump, Ruby ! Jump!’

  She couldn’t do it. She saw her mother running alongside, screaming: ‘Don’t jump, Ruby. Don’t jump!’ Ruby staggered back, feeling the tears on her cheeks. Memories were coming at her in flashes: a scream of pain, her mother on the ground, her white dress turning red, everyone ignoring Ruby as they tried to help the lady who was clutching her tummy.

  ‘Ruby!’ Hank bellowed her name, shocking her back to the present. She went to the edge, ready to leap, but it was too late. Having left the city, the train had rapidly gathered speed. She panicked. ‘Hank!�
� she cried, but he had gone from view.

  She put Rowdy on the floor then, grabbing the edge of the wood, she leant out of the box car. She saw the twinkling lights of the city behind her. She looked forward into the impenetrable blackness, searching for a house, a car, a light. But there was nothing.

  ‘Fuck,’ she whispered. The train was taking her into the prairie. She would get off at the next stop, and go back to Hank. But how long would that be? Three hours? Five? Eight?

  What was Hank doing now? She hoped he wasn’t waiting for her. No, he had more sense than that. He was losing blood and would now be running through the snow to get medical help.

  She guided Rowdy to the back of the box car and slumped against the wall. There was nothing for her to do but cuddle up to Rowdy to keep warm and wait for the train to stop. Then, somehow, she would have to get back to the city and hand in the money.

  She stared at the pile of bank notes. Three million dollars.

  She couldn’t hand it back. She had to keep it. Not for her sake, but for the sake of the girls: Cindy, Bianca, and Jezette - three friends who had given her love and guidance when she most needed it. This money was theirs, too. She had promised it to them. Ruby picked up a wad of notes. This was the only way her friends could start a new life, away from abuse, poverty and overwork. Once they were settled, Ruby could think of herself.

  As the train rounded a bend in the tracks, she saw the sky above Kansas City explode with fireworks.

  The start of a new Millennium.

  And she was on a freight train with three million dollars, a smoking gun, a bottle of Wild Turkey and a hillbilly mutt.

  She pulled him into her arms. ‘Oh, Rowdy, what have I done?’

  THE KANSAS CITY STAR.

  $1.50

  Early Metropolitan Edition *

  Saturday, January 1, 2000

  ROBBERY SUSPECT HELD

  A woman was captured an hour into the New Year at Bank of America, 175 N. Clairborne Road. Three million dollars was later reported missing. Cindy Prudhomme is now being held in police custody. A full investigation is under way.

  Prudhomme was in the Johnson County Jail awaiting a hearing Monday. She took over the bank late yesterday afternoon, wanting to force the authorities into finding her boyfriend, Sean O’Leary, who, she claims, refuses to accept paternity for her unborn child.

  In the standoff, six bank employees were released. Three hostages remained. One of them was Ruby Mortimer-Smyth, the English poet, who has written a Millennium poem for this newspaper, “My Kansas!” (see page 2). Mortimer-Smyth was released from the bank at 11.40 pm but disappeared immediately afterwards. Her whereabouts are still unknown. KMBC reporter, Elizabeth Harris, said: “She just seemed to vanish into thin air.”

  The police are unable to charge Prudhomme with theft and possession of a firearm because they have not found the gun or the money. The two remaining hostages claim they were not, in fact, hostages but had chosen to stay. Cindy Prudhomme is pleading hormonal imbalance.

  The same night, in Olathe, Sheriff Hank Gephart was shot in the shoulder. Suffering massive blood loss, he was taken to St Luke’s Hospital. After regaining consciousness, he gave a description of the shooter: a tall Canadian with a red beard.

  Epilogue

  It was the tenth of September. One year - to the day - since Ruby had arrived in America. Nine months since she’d robbed the bank.

  She sat outside the café, under a striped awning, sipping a glass of Chablis and watching a gaily-painted boat chug by. A thin elegant woman at a far table spilled her glass of peppermint-coloured liquid, the ice cubes skittering across the cobblestones.

  At the same moment, Freddy woke up and started grizzling. ‘Oh, sweetheart,’ Ruby crooned. ‘Give your mummy a rest.’ Freddy was beautiful with jet-black eyes and skin the colour of dark caramel. She picked him up and held him to her chest. ‘Rock-a-by baby on the tree top,’ she sang softly.

  A lot had happened since New Year’s Eve. Arriving in Los Angeles, she and Rowdy had got off the train and searched for a phone booth. Since she didn’t have change, she gave a wino a fifty-dollar bill in exchange for a handful of coins. She phoned Molly, explained everything that had happened and asked her to find out if Hank was okay. Ever since then, Molly had acted as go-between. Hank might not know where Ruby was, but he did know she was alright.

  As promised, Cindy, Bianca and Jezette joined her in California. Three million dollars was hot to handle. Banks got suspicious of cash deposits over a thousand. Realtors were also suspicious. Ruby managed to buy a Pontiac convertible from a shady dealer, and she and the girls drove around the streets of L.A., drinking champagne from the bottle, waving to Ferraris and shouting obscenities to builders. When they finally calmed down, they paid cash to hire food vans. They began selling health snacks outside gyms. It was Ruby’s idea to call it Salad Days. But it was more than just salad, much more, and soon they had lines of customers tailing around the block. Bianca, Jezette and Cindy slimmed right down to show their customers that their products worked. And maybe Ruby’s posh English accent helped because within seven months, Salad Days became so popular Marston’s bought them out for one million dollars.

  ‘When the wind blows the cradle will rock …’ Ruby continued singing.

  Shortly after arriving in Los Angeles, Ruby had phoned Vanessa who told her that Claire had run off with an American artist. ‘How could she do this to me? Vanessa had cried. ‘After all the work I put into her! What did I do wrong?’

  What you did wrong was not allowing us to be ourselves, Ruby had thought.

  Edward and Donna were expecting twins and asked Ruby to be the godmother. They’d sent photos of themselves, side by side, on the couch, both coloured-coded in beige and pink. They looked so happy.

  ‘And down will come baby-’ It was no good. Freddy was now wailing. Ruby turned to the beach to see Cindy striding across the sand, tall and slim, her black skin glowing against her loose orange dress.

  ‘Hey, baby,’ Cindy purred, reaching down. Now in his mother’s arms, Freddy quietened. ‘Thanks, Ruby.’ Cindy rocked her son, gazing down on him with such tenderness. ‘At least I got a twenty-minute break from this little monster.’

  Bianca and Jezette came back from the bar with glasses of orange juice clinking ice. They wore sunglasses and strappy sandals, their silk tops undone and showing their slim figures in tiny polka-dot bikinis. The weight loss not only made them look ten years younger, it had also given them confidence. ‘He’s late,’ Jezette said, looking towards the road.

  ‘He’s had to drive a long way.’

  Ruby meditatively sipped her wine while thinking back to Payat. She never intended to make love with him when he came over to dig the snow from her front door; but, instead, it was fun kissing him on the sofa, and hearing him whispering “Katchina” in her ear. He vowed to make love to her when they were back with his tribe – which sounded much more romantic than doing it on a rigidly upholstered Queen Anne sofa, with Truman and his pals throwing snowballs at the window. As it turned out, Ruby never spoke to Payat again.

  Her thoughts turned to Hank.

  A month ago, he had sent her a note through Molly.

  “Ruby, you’ve had your freedom. Now I want you back. I’ve talked to Joe Begg, the Chief of Police and told him the situation. He’s a good guy. He just wants closure. Phone him. Offer to hand in the cash. That way, he can report it was found in the scrub. He won’t press charges. He says that if you return the money, he will tell you about your biological mother.”

  Ruby had immediately phoned the Chief of Police to arrange the hand-back. After all, her friends no longer needed the money now they were rich in their own right.

  The telephone call was a long one, even though the Chief of Police barely mentioned the robbery. Instead, he explained that, having interviewed each member of her family on the night of her disappearance, he was able to reveal the secrets of her past.

  Timothy Thompson had not been her b
iological father, and he had hated her, blaming her for the loss of his unborn son. Ruby’s mother had come back for her all those years ago, but Vanessa had turned her away, saying Ruby needed a responsible mother; not a heroin addict.

  Blinking back tears, Ruby gazed out across the ocean. Her mother had come back. Knowing that, eased Ruby’s pain.

  And it had cost her three million dollars.

  Worth every cent.

  The Chief of Police also said that on the night of Ruby’s disappearance, Claire had kept up hours of harassment, pushing every member of the police force to get her sister back safe. Ruby listened with growing bewilderment until, finally, she asked: ‘Did she call me “sister” or “stepsister”?’

  ‘She kept calling you “sister”.’

  Ruby understood it all so clearly. As a small child, Claire had been an only daughter, worshipped and pampered by her mother. Then Ruby came along, and from that moment, Claire had had to struggle for every scrap of love from her mother. The result was; Ruby and Claire never had the chance to bond because Vanessa had set them up to be opponents, to compete.

  Ruby wondered if she were ever to see Claire again, would they become friends. She hoped so.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ Cindy, who’d been rocking Freddy up and down the boardwalk, shouted excitedly. ‘He’s here!’

  Ruby saw the truck pull up and felt the familiar fluttering in the pit of her stomach. Yes, he was gorgeous. Molly would be pleased with this outcome. Molly was in New York and working as a computer analyst in the World Trade Centre and making “pots of money”.

  ‘Sheriff Gephart. ’ Ruby stood up and saluted. ‘You gonna put me in handcuffs?’

  He grinned. ‘You betchya.’ He nodded to her three friends. ‘Hi,’ he said.

  ‘Hi,’ they chorused, blushing under his handsome gaze.

  He picked up Ruby’s suitcases. ‘You ready to go?’

  Ruby knew that if she’d been a dog, she would now be careering in circles, whining ecstatically and thumping her tail hard enough to knock over chairs - just like Rowdy was doing right now. Instead, she simply nodded.