Bank Job (7 page)

“Show us the money,” he said, grinning and munching his apple at the same time.

Tom pulled the bag out of his backpack and emptied it onto Billy's bed. Flutter of bills.

I counted it.

“How much?” Tom cracked his knuckles.

“Four hundreds, eight fifties, fifteen twenties and two tens.”

I tried to do the math in my head.

“The total is eleven hundred and twenty dollars,” genius Tom said.

“Not bad,” Billy said, eyes gleaming.

“Not bad,” I said.

“Friggin' right!” Tom said. Crack-crack.

There was no celebration this time. We'd become seasoned professionals. But we bumped fists. “All for one and one for all!” we chanted.

“Great job, team,” said Billy.

I went to my room, lifted the floorboard, dropped the bills into the shoe box, and wrote the amount on the lid.

The Three Musketeers had scored another victory.

So why did I feel so rotten?

TWELVE

APRIL 12

The next day after school, Billy, Tom and I were shooting hoops at the park with Larry, a short grade-eight kid from school. It was Tom and me against Billy and Larry, two on two.

The ball was cold and gritty in my hands. I bounced it a few times and aimed for the basket.

Tom had another idea. “Pass it,” he yelled at me. “Come on, Nails. Pass it over here.”

Larry came at me waving his skinny arms in my face.

I lobbed it over his head in Tom's direction. It went way wide.

Tom missed and frowned. I knew he was swearing at me under his breath.

Billy grabbed the ball and lobbed it toward the basket. It swished right in.

“Ten!” Billy shouted, raising his arms, a grin stretched across his face. He and Larry high-fived and danced around the court.

“If Nails would learn to friggin' pass…,” Tom grumbled.

“You think you're so great? You missed more shots than you got in,” I yelled back at him.

“Well at least I shoot at the basket sometimes,” he yelled at me.

Tangling with Tom yet again.

“What do you think I was trying to do before you started yelling at me?” I said.

“Girls can't jump!”

“And nerdy boys can't either!”

“You know what you can do? You can go and…”

I bounced the ball and ignored to him, trying not to hate him. That pain-in-the-butt Tom Okada complained way too much. He was always on my case. According to him, I couldn't do one single thing right—couldn't play basketball. Couldn't even eat spaghetti right. All according to fancy Mister Tom Okada's fancy rules.

Larry said he had to go. “Me too,” I said. I grabbed my bag off the bench. “See you guys later.”

“Good game,” said Larry, smiling as he fell in beside me.

“Yeah,” I muttered. “Good game.”

I said goodbye to Larry at the park gates and headed for home. White petals from the cherry blossoms whirled around my feet like snowflakes. I kicked them up into a cherry blossom blizzard.

The front door was not locked. I let myself in.

I heard Janice and Joseph talking in kitchen.

I sat on the bottom step in the front hall and untied my running shoes.

“Look at this, Joe,” Janice said. “The Bay is looking for fulltime workers. I could apply. I'm sure I'd make more than I do at the school.”

“Then you wouldn't be here for the kids. They need you here when they get home,” Joseph's voice rumbled. “They've had enough neglect in their life. Being here for them after school is the least we can do.”

I heard the rustle of newspaper. “You're right,” Janice said. “Of course, you're right. What about the bank? Have you heard anything on the mortgage?”

“They said no. As we thought they would. We don't qualify for a second mortgage…”

“What about your brother? Ron is rolling in it. I bet if you asked him, he'd help us out.”

“I called him last week. He's going through a hard time himself right now. No extra cash. Everything's tied up in some deal. I hated asking him.”

“Oh, Joe, what are we going to do?”

“I don't know, Hon. I just don't know.”

They both sounded so sad. I wished I could bounce in there and tell them they didn't need to worry. That Billy and Tom and me were getting the money. It wouldn't be long before we would have the whole ten thousand. But I couldn't say a thing.

Lisa's kitten bobbed out of the living room and danced toward me, tiny claws clicking on the hardwood.

“Hey, Pumpkin,” I whispered, scooping him up and nuzzling his furry back.

“Is that you, Nell?” Janice came from the kitchen, her usual bright and cheerful self. “You're back.”

“Got tired of shooting hoops,” I told her. “Going up to my room to read for a while.”

I carried the kitten up to my room. It was extra tidy, even my side. Janice had supervised bedroom cleanup that morning. She even made me make my bed. She had become a lot fussier about tidiness since Rhoda's visit. Maybe she thought if everything else was perfect, they'd let her and Joseph keep us all here, in spite of the bathroom problems. Fat chance.

Lisa was at a friend's for the afternoon, so I had our bedroom to myself. I shut the door, dropped Pumpkin onto my bed and patted his head. I went to the closet and dug around for the loose board. I pried it up and reached inside for the shoe box. There were three entries on the lid so far.

Bank 1—$1450.

Bank 2—$0

Bank 3—$1120

There was a total of $2570 so far.

We still a long way to go.

I slowly counted the money, smoothing out the bills, stacking them into a neat pile, hoping the total would be higher. It wasn't. It was too far away from the ten thousand dollars we needed. This robbing banks deal was not working very fast. At the rate we were going it would take a whole year before we had enough.

We didn't have a year. We had only a few months.

THIRTEEN

APRIL 13

Billy chose the small Scotiabank in Surrey Place Mall, only a block from the SkyTrain station.

The mall was busy with shoppers. “Should work in our favor,” Billy explained. “It'll be easier to make our getaway in the crowd.”

I was standing in the doorway of the Boston Pizza, opposite the bank.

Tom was waiting over at the ice-cream shop further along the mall. I figured he'd probably be cracking his knuckles as usual. He never said much about being anxious or scared, but I knew he was.

Billy headed into the bank, ball cap pulled down low over his forehead as usual. Also as usual were glasses, fake mustache, jeans, gray jacket zipped over his chin.

I moved closer and stood outside the bank. But I couldn't wait. I followed him inside. I knew that wasn't the plan, but I couldn't stand not knowing what was going on. Tom wouldn't be able to see us. His job was to wait.

I got into the bank in time to see Billy pass his note to the teller, an older woman with big hair. I edged closer so I could hear.

“Touch the silent alarm and you're dead meat!” Billy growled at her.

She froze with fright.

“Gimme all your bills and be quick about it!”

When I saw the terrified teller reaching into her drawer, I left quickly and waited outside, holding my bag ready.

Billy came rushing out, dumped everything into my bag and took off.

A man came running out of the bank. He didn't notice me because of all the people walking by.

“Stop thief!” he yelled.

Billy turned sharply right, into Shoppers Drug Mart. The bank man rushed in after him.

Trouble.

I hurried over to the ice-cream shop and made my handoff to Tom. He stuffed my shopping bag into his backpack and then disappeared into the crowd of shoppers, heading for the SkyTrain station.

The whole operation, from bank robbery to final handoff, took less than two minutes.

I hurried back to Shoppers Drug Mart. If the man from the bank caught Billy, we could be in real trouble. The bank man was big and athletic. I got there in time to see him leap on Billy and wrestle him to the floor. They upset a display of sunglasses, the bank man on top of Billy, yelling like crazy. I felt helpless. What could I do? I fought the urge to rush over and try to pull the bank man away from Billy.

A counter clerk, just a kid, helped the bank man to his feet. The bank man's eyes were snapping with excitement. “He just…robbed the bank,” he panted, pointing down at Billy with a trembling finger. “Call the police.”

The store manager pushed through the gathering crowd. “What's going on here?”

“This hoodlum just robbed the bank,” said the bank man. “Call the police.”

“Call the police,” the manager ordered the clerk.

The clerk spun away toward the phone.

Billy climbed to his feet, stunned. “I gotta go,” he said.

“You will stay right here until the police arrive,” the bank man said angrily, clamping two big hands onto Billy's arm.

The manager, on the other side, gripped Billy's elbow with both hands. Billy struggled, but the two men were too much for him. They led him away to the office at the back of the store. I followed at a distance, lurking by the door, pretending to check out the vitamins.

What could I do to cause a distraction so Billy could get away? Maybe knock down the vitamin display? I tested it. It was bolted to the floor.

“Sit here,” the manager said to Billy, pointing to a chair.

Billy sat, looking puzzled as he brushed his hair out of his face.

They waited.

I waited.

My heart was pounding. My mouth was dry.

A police officer finally arrived, an experienced, older man, who began by questioning the bank man. “How do you know this kid robbed your bank? Did you see him?”

“Yes, I did. Gloria—Miss Hampton—sounded the silent alarm after she handed over the cash from her station. I saw him leave the bank. I chased him— didn't take my eyes off him for one minute—into the store here and caught him.”

The police officer took the bank man by the arm and whispered loud enough for me to hear, “But this is just a big dopey kid. Are you sure he's the one you saw?”

“Yes, I'm sure. He was wearing a disguise, and I recognize his raincoat.”

The police officer ordered Billy to stand up.

Billy stood.

The police officer said, “How old are you, son?”

Mumble-mumble.

“Speak up.”

“Fourteen.”

The police officer turned to the bank man. “What are they feeding kids these days—dinosaur meat?” He turned back to Billy. “This man said you robbed his bank. Well? Did you rob his bank?”

Billy looked shocked. “No, sir. This man assaulted me. He is making a big mistake. The store clerk over there is a witness. Jumped on me and wrecked my back.” Billy twisted and groaned with the pain of it.

“I'm going to search you,” said the police officer. “Empty your pockets.”

Billy, bent in pain, emptied his pockets.

The police officer searched him. Then he shook his head and looked at the bank man and the store manager. “No cash. No disguise. Did you see the kid with anyone, a partner?”

I held my breath. Had the bank man seen me outside the bank with my shopping bag?

But the bank man looked bewildered. And so did the manager. One shrugged. The other shook his head. The manager said, “Sam might've seen something.”

“Get him in here,” growled the police officer.

The manager called the clerk in. Was this kid alone when he came into the store”?

Sam shook his head. “I didn't see him running in. I didn't see nothing. All I seen was this guy”—he pointed at the bank man—“jump this guy.” He pointed at Billy. “And knock over the sunglasses display.”

“You're my witness,” Billy said to Sam. “You saw this man deliberately attack me, right?”

Sam stared up at Billy nervously. “I…I dunno.”

The police officer turned to the bank man. “How can you be sure the thief came into the store? How do you know he didn't just keep running and get lost in the crowd?”

The bank man frowned. Before he could answer, the police officer said, “Did you lose sight of the thief at any time? Between the time he left the bank and the time it took you to get out into the mall? Did you have him out of sight, even for one second?”

The bank man said, “No, I told you. I didn't take my eyes off him.” But he was beginning to look worried.

“Could you be mistaken? The kid here, well, you can see for yourself. He's got no money, no disguise. Could the real thief have got away?”

The bank man said, “But…”

I had seen and heard enough. Billy would be okay. He didn't need any help from me. I headed for the train station.

“They let me go,” Billy explained later to Tom and me in their room. “I gave them a false name and address. Then they let me go.”

I asked, “What name and address did you give?”

Billy chuckled. “Thomas Cruise, 1408 Magnolia Street.”

“I felt awful watching them question you,” I said, “and not able to help. How is your poor back? Are you still in pain?”

“Nothing wrong with my back. I just wanted to freak out the guy from the bank.”

“No more holdups,” Tom said firmly. “That's it for me. You guys want to rob friggin' banks, well, you go right ahead, but count me out. I quit!” He cracked his knuckles. “Thomas Cruise, Magnolia Street! Was that dumb or what? You were almost caught! And if they get you then they get us too. I don't plan to spend the rest of my life in prison.”

Billy shrugged. “I already told you. They don't send kids to prison.”

I said, “Stop it, you two. How much did we take this time?” I pulled the shopping bag out of Tom's backpack, emptied it onto his bed and counted the bills. There weren't many. “A hundred and fifty dollars.”