Heist

It was a spring morning, the sun was shining right through the slit in the blinds falling right onto my pillow lining up perfectly with my eyes. I look at the alarm clock and see I’m 5 minutes early from my scheduled 7:00am alarm. “God Damnit” as I sighed to myself. The air was crisp and chilly, I left my window cracked to let fresh air in during the night. I prefer to be too cold than too hot when I sleep. The birds were chirping and there was a slight dew on the blades of grass in my lawn. I remember it like it was yesterday except it was 12 years ago today, May 1st, 1997, to be exact. How could I forget? The day that my friend, Joe and I finally decided to do the thing we’ve been planning for months. We were so sick of being mediocre, we wanted more but had no idea how to get more without having to put in the grind and save money and invest and have a 401k. Just all that normal bs that everyone has to deal with in order to “hopefully” have enough money to retire or start a family. It was either we were going to be the best, or nothing at all.

I got out of bed, put on my black t-shirt, black hoodie, black cargo pants and black sneakers, had a glass of orange juice, grabbed my keys and headed over to my friend Joe’s house. Once I got there I knocked on the door. Waited 30 seconds then knocked another time yet this time harder. Still no answer and I went to let myself in except it was locked. Luckily I know where he keeps his hidden key. I walked around back of the house and hopped his belly button high metal fence and went straight to the flower pot with the purple and yellow tulips (he has a thing for tulips) but I knew these ones were fake because they’ve been alive since August of the year before and we live in Minnesota so we both know damn well they can’t survive the winter. After letting myself in through his backdoor I made my way to his bedroom and slowly opened the door. I kneel down right next to his head and whisper into his ear,

“Hey Joe, what do gay horses say?”  just on the brink of consciousness he responds back with “Haaayyyyy”. There are a few seconds of complete silence and then in one fell swoop Joe leans up out of his sleep and asks me out of surprise,

“Ron what the f are you doing?” Joe coughs and put his hand over his nose, “Oh Jesus God Ron what is that? Is that orange juice? Your breath smells like a horse carcass.”

“What?! I can’t brush my teeth then have my morning glass of orange juice or vice versa you know that, I can only choose one!”

“Choose dental hygiene for God's sake. Especially on a day like today where i have to spend the entire day with you.”

“Hey at least I woke up when I was supposed to. Ya know what, I actually woke up 5 minutes before my alarm so eat a bag of d’s.”

Mocking Ron, “Ohhh 5 minutes before, woooowwww look at me I’m Ron and I can wake up 5 minutes before my alarm.”

“Shut up and get ready we’re already late as it is and we still need to go over our plan again.”

“Alright let me just put on my outfit and BRUSH MY TEETH then I’ll be ready.” As he looks at me with a weird face clearly mocking me. Joe came out of the bathroom in his outfit and fresh breath,

“You ready?” I asked Joe.

“Ready as I’ll ever be” as Joe replied with confidence.

“You know this is it right? Like, I just want to say it one more time.”

“Ron, for the one billionth time, yes, I know that this is it. And like I told you, I’m f’ing ready.”

“Alright alright just double checking.”

“Double checking!? What do you mean double che- ya know, nevermind.” Joe was always kind of a hot head. As we’re walking out Joe’s front door I asked Joe,

“You didn’t put the ammo in the bag did you?”  

“No why? You said we weren’t using any.”

“Yeah I know. We’re not using any I was just double checking, last thing I want today is for someone to get hurt.”

As Joe opens the side door to the van we throw in our duffle bags and he expresses his frustration but reassurance. “Ron, listen, enough double checking. We perfected this plan you know that. It’s going to be fine, no one's going to get hurt and no one's going to know who did it and we’ll be able to live our lives that we’ve always wanted to live after today. No more being mediocre but you know we’ll never be able to be us again. I’m not going to be Joe and you’re not going to be Ron and that’s that.”

“Okay okay jeez. You don’t have to yell at me.”

“Ron, what are you talking about I’m not even yelling?!”

“See! Right there! You just raised your voice at me!”

“Ron are we doing this or not?!” as Joe started to get fed up with me.

“Yes we are! Sorry the nerves are just starting to get to me.” Joe closes the side door and hops in the driver’s seat and I hop in shotgun.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. Yes this is extremely risky but we have nothing to lose right?”

“Yeah that’s true. Alright. Let’s f’ing do this shit.”

“Yeah that’s what I’m talking about baby! Now toss our song on.”

“Okay wait one last thing.”

“God dammit Joe now what?”

“The latches work for the poster right? Once we are hopping back in the van we gotta have the poster roll down so we just look like a regular plumbing van. We can’t be driving away as just a white van that’s way too obvious.”

“Yeah the hooks work smooth they unlatch like a charm, ‘Mark and Fface plumbing right?”

“Dammit Joe! I thought you fixed it!”

“Ron, relax I’m just joking around of course I fixed it. Try not to be so serious. Now can you put on our song?” I insert the cd into the stereo, the song that Joe and I grew up on. Our hype song, the song that made us feel invincible, made us feel like a million bucks. Immigrant Song. I turned the volume knob to the right and started blasting it as Joe throws the stick into drive.

We pull up at the back alleyway of the building, the place we’ve been down a hundred times perfecting this plan. Parked it exactly where we needed to. Joe and I hop out of the van, opened the side door and grabbed our guns. For me, a black pump shotgun and for Joe well, he’s a simple man so he went with a classic jet black 1911. We zipped up our black hoodies and pulled down our clown masks, cocked our guns, (not that we needed to because we weren’t using any ammo it just felt cool and kind of completed the whole effect) did one last high five and we were ready. Joe and I walked around the building to the front doors and walk in casually.

“EVERYBODY PUT YOUR F’ING HANDS UP THIS IS A ROBBERY. IF I SEE ONE HAND MOVE I WILL BLOW YOUR F’ING FACE OFF.”

“Damn nice Ron I didn’t think you had that in you.”

“Man, I’ve been dying to say that since last night.” Of course we weren’t actually going to hurt anybody we just have to act like we will. What are we stupid? We’re already robbing a

bank we don’t want to be charged for murdering an innocent civilian. Plus, we’re not bad men we’re just desperate. And ya know what they say, desperate times calls for desperate measures.

Joe hops up on one of the tables.

“Alright listen up everybody, I need you all to come meet me in the middle right here and if I see anyone hesitate we will blow your brains out okay? We don’t want to hurt you. But we will. Trust me.”

“Pretty hard to trust someone who’s robbing a bank” mumbles a civilian. Joe jumps down from the table and confronts the man. “The f did you just say you little shit?” as Joe puts the pistol against the man's forehead. The man starts trembling and breaks out in tears,

“No please oh god I have a wife and kids I’m sorry I didn’t mean to say that.”

“Well they won’t have a husband and dad if you say something like that again.” Joe lowers the pistol and goes back to corralling everyone. Meanwhile, while Joe was threatening the life of an innocent civilian I already have 6 of them in zip ties. We made them all sit against the wall away from the door. That way if another customer came into the bank they wouldn’t see anyone and be confused and we’d grab them before they could figure out what’s happening.

“Alright Joe that’s the rest of them, go to the vault i’ll meet you there in a minute let me just double check everyone's zip ties and get all the cash from the teller drawers. You have the saw right?”

“Yeah it’s right here” as Joe holds up a duffle bag. Joe walks to the back of the bank and sets up the saw and I lock the front doors and slap a sign on the glass door that says, “BANK CLOSURE 4/28/97 WE APOLOGIZE FOR THE INCONVENIENCE” I ran to the teller drawers

and hopped over the counter. While collecting the money from the teller drawers and keeping an eye on the hostages, I can hear the shrieking of the saw trying its hardest to get through the 4” thick steel vault door from out front in the lobby.  As I’m going through the drawers I’m also adding up how much i’m grabbing and stuffing in the duffle bag, so far 36 thousand dollars. I finish grabbing the money from the drawers and hear a loud bang from the vault where Joe is and hear him yell, “Fuck!” one of the civilians starts screaming and crying. I run to the back and see a security guard laying there in a pool of blood.

“Joe what the f did you do?!” as I’m freaking out because there is now an innocent security guard dead on the floor. “Where did he come from?! I thought we cleared the place out! I said no bullets because of this happening God dammit Joe there goes the whole plan! We’re f’ed!”

Joe yells back at me, “He came out of nowhere I didn’t know what to do I kind of just reacted I’m sorry!” as Joe puts his hands on his head also freaking out.

“Maybe not shoot him that’s what you could have done!?”

Joe and I heard a loud crash from the lobby and all of a sudden the alarm starts blaring. We run to check out what happened and the front door is shattered and people are running out of the door.

“What the f how did people get out of the zip ties?”

I ask as I turn around and see Joe with a pair of scissors sticking out of his neck and a civilian running at me. I dodge his body from him tackling me and the man runs out the door. With the alarms still screaming in our ears Joe’s body drops to the floor. I run over to him and hold his head up to keep it above his heart.

“Ron go without me there’s no coming back from this” as he’s mumbling with blood starting to come out of his mouth. Tears start to roll down my face as my entire world is crashing down on me. “Go Ron please. Leave me. Go! You don’t have much time!” as he slightly raises his voice but then starts coughing and choking from the blood. I say goodbye to my best friend, grab the duffle back with the 36 thousands dollars in it and run out the door. I hear police sirens in the distance and I run around the building, pull down the poster for our van and hop in the drivers side door. I put the van into drive and speed out of the alley way. Just as I pull out of the alley way and into the street in the blink of an eye everything went black. After what felt like hours I slowly open my eyes and my entire world is upside down. Literally. I taste blood and see it gushing from my leg. The blood is dripping out of a gash in my thigh and onto my face. I manage to unbuckle my seatbelt and fall onto the ceiling of the van. I hear screaming for me to get out and see the drivers side door swing open with a gun right in my face.

“Get out of the van you’re under arrest!”

“My leg is broken my leg is broken!” I yell as there’s blood pouring out of my leg. The police officers drag me out of the van and immediately wrap a torney kit around my leg.

“The ambulance will be here soon.” One of the officers says as everything around me is fading in and out of darkness. All of a sudden I feel my body lifted up as if I was floating and there was a bright fluorescent light staring down at me. I thought to myself, “So this is what heaven looks like. This isn’t so bad.” Right after I finished my thought an oxygen mask is put over my mouth and then I realized I was already in the ambulance. Felt like 10 seconds from being on the ground to on a stretcher in the ambulance. Once the ambulance doors closed that was it. That’s when it hit me. Joe was dead. I’m in an ambulance going to jail for armed robbery and my life would never be the dream I hoped it to be.

END.