LIFE ON THE EDGE
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
Penny Martin’s day was off to the wrong start. Forgetting to set the alarm, she woke at 6:45 a.m. and not the regular 6:00 a.m. Moving too quickly as she pulled the leftover coffee from the refrigerator, the glass pot broke against the inside corner. Twenty minutes later the harried woman was definitely in a time hole. Being a working single parent with an active four-year-old is enough of a challenge, creating additional stress with habitual impatience can put you over the top.
Sally was out of bed, but ignoring the shout to get dressed and brush teeth, played on the floor with the dolls arranged for afternoon tea. She was a sweet-natured child, but one who lived in her own vivid imagination and not in the world of schedules and commands.
A normal morning would have Sally dropped off at the preschool at 8:45 a.m. and Penny opening the stationary store at nine. As the assistant manager, openings and closings were her responsibility. Last night was a late close and she missed dropping the cash at the Bank. This led to the morning challenge as she needed to be at the bank front door at nine sharp. Greenville was a small Indiana town and Central Savings was the only bank. Several of the national banks had expressed an interest in opening a branch, but nothing ever materialized. The manager, Jim Morrison, had been mayor years earlier and was well liked by this community of four thousand. Many of the locals simply banked by mail at the larger town nearby. Penny pulled into the bank lot and quickly parked. Almost pulling Sally by her right hand, the child tried to eat her breakfast toast with the other hand. Mr. Morrison smiled and gave a wave as he approached the door with a ring of keys. Penny had a moment to take a deep breath and feel that she was close to gaining control of her day. As he opened the door he reared back in surprise. Two young men appeared out of nowhere and pushed mother and daughter inside.
You knew immediately that these men were high on something, and meth was the usual culprit. One brandished a gun and was nervously waving it at the manager, while shouting to lock the door. With the building secured, they pushed the hostages to the rear of the lobby and away from the windows. The two looked as if they could be brothers in their mid twenties. They wore dirty clothing, had long and tangled unkempt hair, and smelled of alcohol. Each shouldered a heavily loaded backpack over an army jacket.
Sally was not frightened, and simply chewed on her toast as she glanced backward at the strangers. Turning to look up at her mother, she saw the serious stare forward that meant someone was in trouble, but who was the question.
Jim Morrison was sixty-eight years old, decidedly overweight, and not use to being ordered around. He had promised his wife he would retire three years ago, and mused momentarily about this missed opportunity to be sitting at home with his coffee and newspaper. With two prior heart attacks, he was on blood thinning medication and had four stents to keep the arteries open. Shaking and sweating profusely, he tried to speak calmly to the intruders. He was immediately silenced by the demand to open the vault.
The manager tried to explain that the vault was set with an automatic timer, and would not open until 9:30 a.m. Looking at his watch, he said they had to wait 25 minutes. Not accepting the answer, the gunman grabbed the child by the neck, and again screamed for the opening. Penny tried to pull her daughter back but was thrown to the floor by the other intruder. Morrison raised his hands in compliant submission and again spoke. “Please sir, my assistant teller will be at the front door at any moment, and he will be alarmed if the door is locked.” Just as he uttered this concern, a loud knock was heard and the front door was rattled.
As the door was rattled again, this time it came with a shout, “Mr. Morrison, Mr. Morrison.” The one with the gun started walking to the front of the bank, still pulling the child by the neck. As he raised his gun and pointed forward, the other cried out “Will don’t shoot.” The gun sound exploded through the building, and shattered glass added to the crescendo. Moving again to the back he yelled “tie them up.” Pulling off his backpack, the other withdrew long cord strips, and started tying the mother’s hands. By now she was hysterical, crying out for her daughter. He slapped her face hard, and then immediately apologized for his action. As he tied her feet he continued to ask for forgiveness and said they just needed some money and then they would leave. He proceeded to tie the banker.
Will had let go of the girl, and she ran crying to her mother on the floor. With both hands pressed to the side of his head, he turned back and forth muttering, as he considered the next step. “Will, let’s just give up” said the other. “Shut up you damn fool and stop using my name,” came the reply. He walked over to the others and slumped against the wall. A siren was getting louder and then stopped.
A bull horn soon sounded. “Who are you, and what do you want?” The gunman, true to his maniac nature, answered by firing a wild shot to the front of the building. More sirens approached the bank. After a few minutes of silence, Will pointed to the woman and spoke, “Untie her feet.” He grabbed her arm and pulled Penny to a standing position. “Stay back here with them” he said, “we’re going to have a little negotiation,” and he walked to the entrance with the woman as a shield. Sally was sitting on the floor against the wall and next to the other man. The banker was a few feet away with his back against a desk.
“Is that man going to shoot my mommy” she asked? With a forlorn expression the robber said her mother would not be hurt. “Is he your friend” she asked? “No, I wish he were, but he’s my brother” was the answer. “My name is Sally, what’s your name?” “My name is Ronnie, but you need to stop asking questions, he gets mad”. “Do you have a gun?” was her next question. He sighed and nodded yes, and spoke “I’m not going to use it, and please, you need to stay quiet.”
Will moved back to the others pulling Penny. “It’s all set” he crowed, “at 9:30 a.m. this idiot manager opens the vault, we get $10,000, and they will let us go.” He waved the gun at the manager, and said it should be $20,000 for all this added hassle.
Sally called out in an excited voice “Mommy, his name is Ronnie and his brother is not going to shoot you.” Will fired two shots into the wall over their heads as he screamed and cursed at his brother.
With this new commotion, the bank manager grabbed at his chest and said he was having a heart attack. His face appeared devoid of color and he fell to his side. The brothers were stunned and speechless. Penny spoke up saying Morrison needed immediate medical help or he would die. Neither would answer the woman and she spoke again. “If you want the vault opened, he needs help, and he needs it now!” Ronnie looked at his brother. “Please Will, robbing a bank is one thing, if this man dies we’re in jail for life, you need to do something.”
Penny had been in a hostage situation during college. She had worked in a coffee shop that was robbed during an afternoon shift. Two diners, the cook, Penny and another waitress were herded into the walk-in refrigerator while the cash register was emptied by a man brandishing a knife. As he tried to leave, he was confronted by a police officer who was coming in for a coffee break. In a panic, the man ran back and closed himself in the refrigerator with the others. The standoff lasted six hours, until the man was eventually talked into surrendering. Penny always remembered that time is your friend.
She calmly spoke to Will, “Take me back to the front, use me as your shield, and we can ask for medical help, everyone wins.” Without speaking, Will went back to the front with his hostage. Ronnie moved over to the banker, untied his hands, removed his coat, and loosened his tie. Taking the coat, he fashioned a pillow and placed it under his head. Sally scooted over, held his hand and spoke, “I can tell you a story if you want.” He look over at the angelic child and quietly answered “thank you, I would love to hear your story.”
Will was heard speaking, “Fix him up but no quick movements.” A man in uniform, but unarmed, walked ahead of Will and Penny carrying a medium sized case. He had a name tag pinned to his shirt that read “McCormick.” “What, we have a party going on?” Will shouted. Flicking his gun toward his brother and the girl, they moved back against the wall. Ronnie glared at his brother with a hatred in his eyes. Penny, hands still tied, sat next to her daughter as McCormick attended to the manager. Will looked at his watch and spoke, “Get him up, time to open the vault.” McCormick answered, “He is incapable of getting up, we need to take him to the hospital or he will die.”
Penny grew up with a self-confidence that she could overcome any obstacle with wit and common sense. She had put herself through college, succeeded as a single parent, and earned a living wage for her family. She spoke to Will as she would speak to a difficult customer at her store. “I work with cash machines all the time at my store, I have opened numerous vaults, and I can certainly open this one. I know what questions to ask Mr. Morrison about the code and dials, let me get this done so you and your brother can leave with the $20,000.” Will grinned at the higher amount mentioned, and glanced over to Ronnie with satisfaction.
“I need to have my hands untied to write the code information” she said extending her hands toward Ronnie. Will nodded ok. Picking up a pad and pen, she moved over to Morrison and McCormick, and quietly asked questions while taking notes. Removing the ring of keys from his belt she stood and spoke. “I can have the vault open in five minutes, but first Mr. Morrison leaves for the hospital.” Will raged with expletives, as Penny looked at him with calmness. Once he wore himself out, she quietly spoke again. “If he dies in this bank, they will not let you walk free. Let him go and I will get your money.”
Ronnie spoke, “Will, she’s right, let him go, let the lady get our money.” At that moment Penny spoke again. “My daughter also leaves.” This time Will was the quiet one as he moved over to Penny and pressed the gun nozzle to her forehead. With a quick flick he moved the gun to the side of her head and shot at the wall. “The kid stays” he said calmly. He told Ronnie to take the girl as a shield, walk Morrison to the front door and tell them that McCormick is the replacement hostage. He instructed the man to get on his knees and to stay in that position by the desk.
Ronnie and Sally returned. “Mommy” cried out Sally, “there are TV cameras outside the building and a lot of red flashing lights.” “I know” said her mother smiling, “they want us to come outside in just a few minutes and be on television.” Will told his brother to get the gun out of his backpack, hold the girl in a shield position, and watch the yokel, as he pointed to McCormick. “Show time,” he called out as he waggled his curled pointing finger to Penny. She held up the ring of keys, smiled at Will, and spoke. “Surprise, more money.” He had a confused look on his face. “The money drawers, follow me and bring your bag” she said. Opening each of the three drawers, she pulled out all the paper currency and rolls of coins, and dropped them into his canvas bag.
To Penny, this was her “moment of truth.” The deciding instant when a plan or a test will succeed or fail. She looked at Will and said calmly, “This is all there is, I have no way to open the vault.” The plan seemed to fail as Will grabbed her and started moving toward the vault screaming curses. Ronnie pointed his gun at his brother and yelled “Let her go, we’ve got some money.” Will spun around to face his brother and spoke with all the rage of unworthiness, drug abuse, and poverty. “You little coward, you good for nothing nobody, go ahead, shoot if you’ve got the guts.” Ronnie fired.
Hit in the shoulder, Will dropped his gun and Penny kicked it across the floor. McCormick seized this opportunity to draw a small ankle revolver and turned the gun toward the younger brother holding the child. The two gunmen stared at each other, neither moving a muscle, no one spoke for what seemed an eternity. Sally leaned her head back and looked up to his face. She was not crying, but both eyes welled up with tears. “You promised you would not shoot your gun” she said. “I needed to protect your mommy” he answered.
Penny spoke, “Ronnie, you saved my life. No one has died, we can stop this madness right now if you will just put your gun on the floor and push it over to Mr. McCormick. I will make you a promise, and I always keep my promises. Yes, you will go to jail for this attempted robbery, but I can see you are a caring person and did not want to harm us, I will work to help you.” At that moment, Sally again looked up. She was determined not to cry, and choked out a quiet “I will help you too.” Ronnie felt twenty-two years of sadness and grief flow out of him as he laid down the gun and pushed it across the floor.
RICHARD SWAIN
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
Penny Martin’s day was off to the wrong start. Forgetting to set the alarm, she woke at 6:45 a.m. and not the regular 6:00 a.m. Moving too quickly as she pulled the leftover coffee from the refrigerator, the glass pot broke against the inside corner. Twenty minutes later the harried woman was definitely in a time hole. Being a working single parent with an active four-year-old is enough of a challenge, creating additional stress with habitual impatience can put you over the top.
Sally was out of bed, but ignoring the shout to get dressed and brush teeth, played on the floor with the dolls arranged for afternoon tea. She was a sweet-natured child, but one who lived in her own vivid imagination and not in the world of schedules and commands.
A normal morning would have Sally dropped off at the preschool at 8:45 a.m. and Penny opening the stationary store at nine. As the assistant manager, openings and closings were her responsibility. Last night was a late close and she missed dropping the cash at the Bank. This led to the morning challenge as she needed to be at the bank front door at nine sharp. Greenville was a small Indiana town and Central Savings was the only bank. Several of the national banks had expressed an interest in opening a branch, but nothing ever materialized. The manager, Jim Morrison, had been mayor years earlier and was well liked by this community of four thousand. Many of the locals simply banked by mail at the larger town nearby. Penny pulled into the bank lot and quickly parked. Almost pulling Sally by her right hand, the child tried to eat her breakfast toast with the other hand. Mr. Morrison smiled and gave a wave as he approached the door with a ring of keys. Penny had a moment to take a deep breath and feel that she was close to gaining control of her day. As he opened the door he reared back in surprise. Two young men appeared out of nowhere and pushed mother and daughter inside.
You knew immediately that these men were high on something, and meth was the usual culprit. One brandished a gun and was nervously waving it at the manager, while shouting to lock the door. With the building secured, they pushed the hostages to the rear of the lobby and away from the windows. The two looked as if they could be brothers in their mid twenties. They wore dirty clothing, had long and tangled unkempt hair, and smelled of alcohol. Each shouldered a heavily loaded backpack over an army jacket.
Sally was not frightened, and simply chewed on her toast as she glanced backward at the strangers. Turning to look up at her mother, she saw the serious stare forward that meant someone was in trouble, but who was the question.
Jim Morrison was sixty-eight years old, decidedly overweight, and not use to being ordered around. He had promised his wife he would retire three years ago, and mused momentarily about this missed opportunity to be sitting at home with his coffee and newspaper. With two prior heart attacks, he was on blood thinning medication and had four stents to keep the arteries open. Shaking and sweating profusely, he tried to speak calmly to the intruders. He was immediately silenced by the demand to open the vault.
The manager tried to explain that the vault was set with an automatic timer, and would not open until 9:30 a.m. Looking at his watch, he said they had to wait 25 minutes. Not accepting the answer, the gunman grabbed the child by the neck, and again screamed for the opening. Penny tried to pull her daughter back but was thrown to the floor by the other intruder. Morrison raised his hands in compliant submission and again spoke. “Please sir, my assistant teller will be at the front door at any moment, and he will be alarmed if the door is locked.” Just as he uttered this concern, a loud knock was heard and the front door was rattled.
As the door was rattled again, this time it came with a shout, “Mr. Morrison, Mr. Morrison.” The one with the gun started walking to the front of the bank, still pulling the child by the neck. As he raised his gun and pointed forward, the other cried out “Will don’t shoot.” The gun sound exploded through the building, and shattered glass added to the crescendo. Moving again to the back he yelled “tie them up.” Pulling off his backpack, the other withdrew long cord strips, and started tying the mother’s hands. By now she was hysterical, crying out for her daughter. He slapped her face hard, and then immediately apologized for his action. As he tied her feet he continued to ask for forgiveness and said they just needed some money and then they would leave. He proceeded to tie the banker.
Will had let go of the girl, and she ran crying to her mother on the floor. With both hands pressed to the side of his head, he turned back and forth muttering, as he considered the next step. “Will, let’s just give up” said the other. “Shut up you damn fool and stop using my name,” came the reply. He walked over to the others and slumped against the wall. A siren was getting louder and then stopped.
A bull horn soon sounded. “Who are you, and what do you want?” The gunman, true to his maniac nature, answered by firing a wild shot to the front of the building. More sirens approached the bank. After a few minutes of silence, Will pointed to the woman and spoke, “Untie her feet.” He grabbed her arm and pulled Penny to a standing position. “Stay back here with them” he said, “we’re going to have a little negotiation,” and he walked to the entrance with the woman as a shield. Sally was sitting on the floor against the wall and next to the other man. The banker was a few feet away with his back against a desk.
“Is that man going to shoot my mommy” she asked? With a forlorn expression the robber said her mother would not be hurt. “Is he your friend” she asked? “No, I wish he were, but he’s my brother” was the answer. “My name is Sally, what’s your name?” “My name is Ronnie, but you need to stop asking questions, he gets mad”. “Do you have a gun?” was her next question. He sighed and nodded yes, and spoke “I’m not going to use it, and please, you need to stay quiet.”
Will moved back to the others pulling Penny. “It’s all set” he crowed, “at 9:30 a.m. this idiot manager opens the vault, we get $10,000, and they will let us go.” He waved the gun at the manager, and said it should be $20,000 for all this added hassle.
Sally called out in an excited voice “Mommy, his name is Ronnie and his brother is not going to shoot you.” Will fired two shots into the wall over their heads as he screamed and cursed at his brother.
With this new commotion, the bank manager grabbed at his chest and said he was having a heart attack. His face appeared devoid of color and he fell to his side. The brothers were stunned and speechless. Penny spoke up saying Morrison needed immediate medical help or he would die. Neither would answer the woman and she spoke again. “If you want the vault opened, he needs help, and he needs it now!” Ronnie looked at his brother. “Please Will, robbing a bank is one thing, if this man dies we’re in jail for life, you need to do something.”
Penny had been in a hostage situation during college. She had worked in a coffee shop that was robbed during an afternoon shift. Two diners, the cook, Penny and another waitress were herded into the walk-in refrigerator while the cash register was emptied by a man brandishing a knife. As he tried to leave, he was confronted by a police officer who was coming in for a coffee break. In a panic, the man ran back and closed himself in the refrigerator with the others. The standoff lasted six hours, until the man was eventually talked into surrendering. Penny always remembered that time is your friend.
She calmly spoke to Will, “Take me back to the front, use me as your shield, and we can ask for medical help, everyone wins.” Without speaking, Will went back to the front with his hostage. Ronnie moved over to the banker, untied his hands, removed his coat, and loosened his tie. Taking the coat, he fashioned a pillow and placed it under his head. Sally scooted over, held his hand and spoke, “I can tell you a story if you want.” He look over at the angelic child and quietly answered “thank you, I would love to hear your story.”
Will was heard speaking, “Fix him up but no quick movements.” A man in uniform, but unarmed, walked ahead of Will and Penny carrying a medium sized case. He had a name tag pinned to his shirt that read “McCormick.” “What, we have a party going on?” Will shouted. Flicking his gun toward his brother and the girl, they moved back against the wall. Ronnie glared at his brother with a hatred in his eyes. Penny, hands still tied, sat next to her daughter as McCormick attended to the manager. Will looked at his watch and spoke, “Get him up, time to open the vault.” McCormick answered, “He is incapable of getting up, we need to take him to the hospital or he will die.”
Penny grew up with a self-confidence that she could overcome any obstacle with wit and common sense. She had put herself through college, succeeded as a single parent, and earned a living wage for her family. She spoke to Will as she would speak to a difficult customer at her store. “I work with cash machines all the time at my store, I have opened numerous vaults, and I can certainly open this one. I know what questions to ask Mr. Morrison about the code and dials, let me get this done so you and your brother can leave with the $20,000.” Will grinned at the higher amount mentioned, and glanced over to Ronnie with satisfaction.
“I need to have my hands untied to write the code information” she said extending her hands toward Ronnie. Will nodded ok. Picking up a pad and pen, she moved over to Morrison and McCormick, and quietly asked questions while taking notes. Removing the ring of keys from his belt she stood and spoke. “I can have the vault open in five minutes, but first Mr. Morrison leaves for the hospital.” Will raged with expletives, as Penny looked at him with calmness. Once he wore himself out, she quietly spoke again. “If he dies in this bank, they will not let you walk free. Let him go and I will get your money.”
Ronnie spoke, “Will, she’s right, let him go, let the lady get our money.” At that moment Penny spoke again. “My daughter also leaves.” This time Will was the quiet one as he moved over to Penny and pressed the gun nozzle to her forehead. With a quick flick he moved the gun to the side of her head and shot at the wall. “The kid stays” he said calmly. He told Ronnie to take the girl as a shield, walk Morrison to the front door and tell them that McCormick is the replacement hostage. He instructed the man to get on his knees and to stay in that position by the desk.
Ronnie and Sally returned. “Mommy” cried out Sally, “there are TV cameras outside the building and a lot of red flashing lights.” “I know” said her mother smiling, “they want us to come outside in just a few minutes and be on television.” Will told his brother to get the gun out of his backpack, hold the girl in a shield position, and watch the yokel, as he pointed to McCormick. “Show time,” he called out as he waggled his curled pointing finger to Penny. She held up the ring of keys, smiled at Will, and spoke. “Surprise, more money.” He had a confused look on his face. “The money drawers, follow me and bring your bag” she said. Opening each of the three drawers, she pulled out all the paper currency and rolls of coins, and dropped them into his canvas bag.
To Penny, this was her “moment of truth.” The deciding instant when a plan or a test will succeed or fail. She looked at Will and said calmly, “This is all there is, I have no way to open the vault.” The plan seemed to fail as Will grabbed her and started moving toward the vault screaming curses. Ronnie pointed his gun at his brother and yelled “Let her go, we’ve got some money.” Will spun around to face his brother and spoke with all the rage of unworthiness, drug abuse, and poverty. “You little coward, you good for nothing nobody, go ahead, shoot if you’ve got the guts.” Ronnie fired.
Hit in the shoulder, Will dropped his gun and Penny kicked it across the floor. McCormick seized this opportunity to draw a small ankle revolver and turned the gun toward the younger brother holding the child. The two gunmen stared at each other, neither moving a muscle, no one spoke for what seemed an eternity. Sally leaned her head back and looked up to his face. She was not crying, but both eyes welled up with tears. “You promised you would not shoot your gun” she said. “I needed to protect your mommy” he answered.
Penny spoke, “Ronnie, you saved my life. No one has died, we can stop this madness right now if you will just put your gun on the floor and push it over to Mr. McCormick. I will make you a promise, and I always keep my promises. Yes, you will go to jail for this attempted robbery, but I can see you are a caring person and did not want to harm us, I will work to help you.” At that moment, Sally again looked up. She was determined not to cry, and choked out a quiet “I will help you too.” Ronnie felt twenty-two years of sadness and grief flow out of him as he laid down the gun and pushed it across the floor.
RICHARD SWAIN