HeavyLight: Chapter 1
But I still get a donut though; pink frosted sprinkle with extra cholesterol because that’s what makes it good. I thank the clerk who I assume is Earl even though she was a girl and then I walked out of the store, heading back to the bright blue windowless van that was parked on the side of the road. It takes a moment to open the passenger door because the handle is busted off, but I do manage to swing it open and take a seat in the comfy, chewed-up, leather chair. The driver, Roger, glanced over and sorta muttered “...what did you get...?”
“Oh, uh, a donut.” I said.
He nodded and said “Sounds legit.” That’s what I like about Roger; he’s always cool and doesn’t ask alot of questions. That’s why I called him to be the getaway driver for when we robbed the bank. I also like him because he looks like Steven Wright which is always cool.
Anyway, so he starts up the van and we begin down the road towards the interstate. It’s around that time that I get a call, which I am alerted to by the sound of “It’s raining men” which is what my ringtone is set to. So I open it up and say “yo...” into it. I’ve always said “hello?” but recently I decided to mix it up because my therapist told me to add diversity to my life in the small areas. My ears picked up the voice of one angry hombre.
“Hey man! Where the cluck are you, bro? We’re waiting for you outside of the bank!” Said the voice. I recognized it was my friend, Dougman, who was on the other end. Now, he is a mormon, which means organization is very important to him, and I knew that I was really off schedule. Well, either he’s mormon or he’s jewish, I don’t quite know. He could just be a guy who likes to wear bright white polo shirts and black business pants. Anyway, he wants to know where I am. So I say “Calm down bro, I had to stop at Earl’s Bakery. It’s free donut friday.”
“What? Dude! What’s wrong with you man? We’re about to pull a clucking heist; you can’t just stop off and buy yourself a snack...” he said.
“Hey man, listen. This is a stressful job, and besides, don’t tell me you would have passed that up; it was a good deal bro.”
He sighed angrily on the other end of the phone. “...did you get me anything?”
“Ooh...ouch...yeah, it was one-per-person. Sorry. But if I could've have gotten more, I would have cleaned that sucker out.”
“...alright, whatever. You got the explosives right?” He asked. And I did; stored in the back of the windowless van. Now, when you rob a bank, you need something to blow open the big vault in the back. Now, the recommended explosive is thermite, because you see it used in all the movies. It’s fast, effective, and easy to carry as opposed to C4. The only issue is that we don’t know how to make Thermite. I’m not even sure where we could find out. We tried buying it on Ebay, but that didn’t work. And we don’t know anybody who owns thermite. We may be criminals for a living, but we don’t have any good connections.
But what we do have is dynamite. Another guy in a team, Jumbo Jim, has a crazy redneck uncle from Nebraska who has a stash of old fashion mining explosives and we traded him for it with two bottles of whiskey, a bullwhip, and a spanking. Jumbo Jim’s Uncle is a sick man. But we got some dynamite out of the deal, and it’s easier to prime; we just have to light the wick and throw it. We might also get a rep for it; anybody can rob a bank with thermite, but when was the last time someone robbed one with dynamite? Last guy to do that was Billy the Kid, and that was back when they still used gold coins and currency.
“Yeah, I got the dynamite. You guys got the guns?” I replied. It’s customary to rob a bank with weapons. You normally don’t use them anyway, but they are needed in order to visually illustrate that you mean business. Of course, you could just walk into a bank and try and rob it without a gun, but you just look goofy.
“Of course, man! We got the guns. David Pincher from down the street donated them. Now hurry up and get over here.” Dougman said.
“Alright, alright. I’m coming on third avenue. Now, is the bank on Avenue Boulevard?”
“No, it’s on Collision Crossing. Take a 90 on 5 and 86 your way down the 231.”
“...Alright...” I said. I glanced over at Roger. “You know where the bank is right?”
“Yep. I had an affair with the bankteller one time. It was an interesting morning...” he muttered.
I ignored the later comment and went back to talking to Dougman. “Yes, we will be there in a moment. The bank is called the ‘Harrison and Ford Trust,’ right?”
“That’s the one...I think I see that van. We’re hanging out in the alley at the CD repair store right across the street. Do you see us?” Dougman said. I paused and glanced up, looking around the street through the foggy tinted glass window of the Van. We were traveling down one of those streets in the city that doesn’t see much action anyway. There was a gay pride parade happening a few blocks down so most of the townspeople were over at that; mostly because they toss free T-shirts into the crowd. But if everybody’s there, then there’s less witnesses to watch us rob a freaking bank. Anyway, I glanced around and spot this skinny black guy jumping up and down, waving his hands around like a maniac on the sidewalk. I nudged Roger and nod at him. “Check it out, it’s Angry Steve. That’s where they are hiding out. Pull over near those two trashcans on the side of the road and do it discreetly.”
So Roger demonstrates that he doesn’t know what discreetly means by slowly rolling forward and knocking over some trash cans on the side of the road. “Oops...sorry, let me back up...” He then slowly backed up into the Prius that was parked on the curb. “Dude! Seriously!” I shout.
“Cool your shoulder, I’m getting it done...” he muttered. So he finally parks in between the toppled trashcans and the Prius with the busted bumper. Already frustrated with a member of my team, I had a feeling we weren’t off to a good start. But I ventured into the alley to meet with the three other members. Dougman was standing there next to Jumbo Jim, and as I was coming into the alley, Angry Steve followed in as well. “Alright, I’m here! Hold on...why is Angry Steve wearing a white business suit?” I asked, pointing at him.
Dougman shrugged. “...why is that an issue?”
“Didn’t we agree that we would all wear black business suits? I mean, we’re trying to establish a sense of uniform. Plus, Steve is the only black guy on the team so he already stands out. Now a white suit is just going to make him stand out even more.” I pointed out.
Steve walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Chill, pal. It’s all good. The clothes don’t make the man, our mothers do. In their uteruses. Anyway, so you got all the explosives in the van right?”
“Yep. Did you guys case the joint? I’ve only ever been in this place once, and that was a long time ago.” I asked.
“I’ve already been in like twice. It’s just one story, there’s an office space in a room off to the left, the Vault is in the back in a room behind the front desk. There’s also a water fountain that doesn’t work; I know because I tried it.” Jumbo Jim pointed out.
“So there you have it. We got the guns, you got the explosives, Angry Steve brought refreshments. Last thing; got the masks?” Dougman asked. I nodded, pulling the four masks out of my pocket. Because we knew this would land us a reputation, we wanted to have a theme to our appearance. Besides the uniform, our masks had to have some kind of connection. So we chose to go with a presidential theme. I tossed a “George Bush” mask to Dougman. Angry Steve got the “Bill Clinton” Mask because he connects with him for some reason. By default, Jumbo Jim got the “Barack Obama” mask, and I kept the “Richard Nixon” mask for myself.
Once we were holding our masks, we all put them on to make sure they fit. Angry Steve put his on and muttered “wow, it smells like plastic in here.”
“Alright guys, we got the masks, guns, gloves, and explosives. Let’s synchronize our watches.” I said.
“I’m not wearing a watch...” Jumbo Jim said.
“I brought my alarm clock; can I synchronize it instead?” Angry Steve asked, holding up an old fashion bedside ringing alarm clock.
“Forget it, let’s just get suited up. Where are the weapons?” I asked. Dougman explained that they were in the back of his mom’s car which he had parked about 3 blocks away. So we had to walk all the way there to his Mom’s car which was a minivan with a sunroof. Using his mom’s keys, Dougman unlocked the back of the car and the trunk opened to reveal several shiny black cases.
Dougman opened up one and pulled out a simple military carbine. Jumbo Jim opened another one and found himself a 12 gauge shotgun with a silver finish. Angry Steve equipped a compact SMG with a red dot sight. I open up a case and find...nothing. I open up another one and find nothing. The last case in the trunk contained two napkins and 3 pennies. “Dude! Where the cluck are the rest of the guns, man?” I shouted at Dougman.
“...There isn’t a fourth one for you? Oh...yeah I forgot to stock extra. Don’t you carry a piece with you?” Jumbo Jim asked.
“Yeah, a piece of cake! Not a gun-piece. Besides, I left the cake back home anyway. Forget it; I’ll have to borrow a gun from Roger.” I said. So we walked all the way back to the blue van. I explained to Roger that they didn’t get me a gun so I had to borrow his. Roger doesn’t work on the Honor system though. Not since his last wife ran off with his stash of friendship bracelets. So in exchange for the gun, I had to leave something of value. That way when we came back, we would trade back. So I left him my watch because the only other thing that I had of value was my mask, which I was wearing, and the 50 dollars out of my wallet. I’ve never trusted Roger with my money though.
He took the watch and handed me his shiny silver handgun. It only had one clip though; so it was practically just for show. Jumbo Jim got the dynamite out of the back of the van, but we forgot to bring a suitcase, so he had to shove them in his pants that were already barely containing his plumpish posterior. After that, I told Roger to meet us around the back in exactly 30 minutes. He nodded and sped off.
There was no turning back. Well, there was, but if we did it would kinda undermine the days of preparation this took. We had the guns, the suits, the masks, and the explosives. “Alright gentlemen. Across that street is the Harrison and Ford Trust. It’s time to break bad and bring the pain. It’s time to break the line.” I said, imitating every hardcore crime lord in every movie I had seen about bank robbery.
“Hold on...are we breaking bad or breaking the line?” Angry Steve asked.
“Hey, I don’t mean to complain, but this carbine is kinda heavy. Yeah, I know it’s supposed to be considered relatively light, but it’s like a ‘heavy-light’ weapon...” Dougman murmured.
“Well, if you don’t want it, give it to me! I’ll trade you for it.” I pointed out. Dougman glanced down at his gun, then over at my gun. He shrugged. “Naw, I’m good.” He said.
“Does anybody want to say a final word before we cross the street and enter the bank?” Jumbo Jim asked.
“What the...dude!? I just did that like a second ago! Didn’t you hear that speech I just gave?” I asked.
“Sorry, I was distracted by the pigeons over there.” he replied.
“Dude, what if the pigeons are working for the po-po? That means we’re screwed already! We have to leave right now and go change our names, move to Mexico, and commit suicide. Not in that order, of course.” Angry Steve said.
“Alright, I’ve had enough of this, come on. Let’s get it over with.” I said, angrily stomping across the street. The other guys saw that I was already making my way to the bank, so they fell in step. As I crossed the hot asphalt road, getting closer and closer to the Bank entrance with every step, I was quickly filled with confidence and hope. I was going to pull one of the greatest heists in this century.
Just as I was reaching to pull the door open, it opened right in my face. So fast that it smacked me, causing me to fall back and land hard on my spine. Then I covered my face, groaning angrily. A little old lady walked out of the bank, past me and down the street. Angry Steve got down to help me up, and I scampered back to my feet. “Are you alright, man?” he asked.
“Yeah...yeah I’m okay. Just hurt; that’s all...” I murmured, slipping my hand underneath my mask to check to see if I was bleeding. I wasn’t, but if I was, that would have been a really bad start. But after recovering, we pushed through the doors and entered the air-conditioned chamber of the lobby of the Bank. Four silvery columns roze out of the marble floors in front of us, holding up a ceiling like 15 feet overhead. Off to the side was an area for resting with a couch and a table, and potted ferns lined the walls. The front desk was directly in front of us, and off to the side were a set of ATMs which didn’t make any sense because we were already in a bank; we didn’t need a miniature bank inside a real bank. But I digress.
There were a few people here and there. Mostly walking around, chatting quietly. The bank tellers, about three people, were just calmly talking to the people in the front of each of their rather short lines. People kinda glanced over at us and then blinked and glanced away. Four masked men walked in wearing gloves and masks and carrying firearms, and nobody’s freaking out. Not what I expected. So we waited a moment for the hysteria to kick in. But it didn’t. I glanced over at Dougman. “Yeah uh...nobody seems to notice that we’re about to rob the bank...” I murmured.
“Don’t worry, I got you covered.” He replied. He stepped forward, raised the carbine into the air and fired off a couple of rounds. The sound resonated against the walls and a collective gasp could be heard from everyone as they turned around to stare open mouth at us. “Hey! Listen; we’re robbing this joint. Everybody get on the floor.” He shouted. The really old security guard off to the side realized it was time to jump into action. He slowly pulled his pistol out of the holster, took a few shaky steps forward, and fired it at us. Though his aiming arm wasn’t that good anymore, so he pointed down and the shot found it’s way into Dougman’s thigh.
He dropped the carbine, grabbed his thigh, and groaned in pain before collapsing to the floor. “Old guy!” I shout, raising my pistol and shooting the security guard. He stiffened like a board and fell straight back, landing hard on his 78 year old spine. “Dang it! This is already escalating out of control. I just committed homicide. Everybody, get down right now!” I shout, holding the gun in the air. All the civilians obeyed me and laid on the ground, their eyes kept on us.
“Bill, you check to see if George is okay. Barack, you head into the back and start setting up those explosives.” I said to Steve and Jim.
“Bill? I ain’t Bill, my name’s Steve!” Angry Steve shouted angrily.
“I know, but we’re all under an assumed name! We talked about this man! You’re wearing the Bill Clinton Mask, so that makes you Bill.” I explained. Angry Steve nodded and went to help Dougman who was sitting against one of the columns, holding his leg and groaning angrily.
A woman nearby who was lying on the ground screamed suddenly. I pointed at her and said “Hey! Don’t scream; it’s distracting. Please be respectful.” She screamed again, which was really rude because I had just explained to her why she shouldn’t do it. I walk over to Dougman who was bleeding profusely from the leg.
“Hey, you gonna be alright?” I asked him subtly.
“Of course I’m not, jackwagon! I’ve been clucking shot in the jam leg, man!” He shouted.
“Hey, cool down. It’s going to be alright. There might be some bandages in the medical box in the bathroom or something.” I explained. The woman over in the corner screamed once again. Steve just wasn’t having it.
“Dude, she’s starting to aggravate me. Can’t we like tie her up and put duct tape over her mouth?”
“Steve, that’s disrespectful to women. We can’t just shut her up, she has a right to speak. Even though it’s distracting.” I explained.
“I thought I was Bill now...” Angry Steve asked. I began to fume with anger, and I needed something to take my mind off the frustration. So I went to go check on Jumbo Jim. By now, he was inside the back room, prepping the dynamite. I walked to the counter and called out to him through the open door.
“Hey, Barack! Are those explosives ready back there?” I asked.
“Yeah, I got them all set up around the Vault door. You got the lighter, right?” He called back.
“Bill was supposed to have the lighter.” I said, glancing back.
Angry Steve was busy tying his white business shirt around Dougman’s bleeding leg. He glanced up when he heard his assumed name. “...I was supposed to buy a lighter? Was that why you lend me those 5 bucks?” He murmured.
“Really!? Did any of us bring a way to ignite the explosives? And come on, Bill! Now you’re the only guy here that’s shirtless. You just keep finding ways to stand out. We’re all supposed to be equal partners in this venture.” I replied.
Suddenly, there was flashing red and blue lights shining through the windows. Dougman looked up and grunted angrily. “The fuzz is here now. Someone triggered the silent alarm...” He said through gritted teeth. Over behind the desk, there was a woman sitting with her legs crossed, filing her nails and chewing bubble gum. Right next to her on the wall was a big red button that had the words “silent alarm” printed above it in bright red letters.
“...wasn’t me...” She murmured while continuing to file her nails.
Angry Steve ran over to the window and looked out of it. “Hot Jam man! There’s like 5 cop cars out there! Things have heated up now.” He said.
“Alright, well we need to figure out how to ignite the dynamite. Let me see how much time we’ve got.” I pulled back my sleeve and looked at my watch. Upon seeing the patch of skin where my watch normally is, I remembered that I gave it to Roger in exchange for his piece.
“Uh...I don’t have my watch anymore. Bill, you synchronized your alarm clock,right?” I asked.
“Dude, I left it back in Dougman...I mean, George or whatever’s car.” He said.
“Jam it, Bill!” I shout.
“Attention; this is the Cincinnati Police Department. Put down your guns and come out with your hands up.” Some guy outside said through a megaphone.
I was never sure why they thought that would ever work. No guy who was robbing a bank has ever heard that and said “dang it, man! You didn’t tell me the cops would show up! I guess the jig is up, boys...” No, we planned for this.
“Alright, guys, we need hostages now. And I don’t mean these people laying on the floor, I mean like actual, tied up hostages. So we need to pick out like three people and tie them up. No women though; that’s our policy. Also, no children. Or old people.” I explained.
“I dunno, man. We got a guy bleeding out here, no way to light the dynamite in the back, and the Police are probably watching us through those security cameras right now...” Steve said, gesturing to the several white wall-mounted security cameras who were staring straight at us.
“...Son of a grapefruit...we forgot about the cameras...this heist is taking a turn...what should we do now?” I asked.
“Seriously? Let’s bail! It’s not worth it. We gotta get out of here!” Dougman said. As much as I hate to agree with Dougman in general, he was right. But only this once, because most of the time he’s dead wrong. He’s still not right about which Super Bowl team is better than the other.
“Alright...this mission is a bust, let’s get out of here. I think it’s been like 30 or so minutes so we can head out the back through the office space and catch a ride with our get-away guy. Let me go get Barack.” I said, making my way to the desk. “Hey, Barack! This mission is a bust! We’re bailing out!” I shouted.
His masked face suddenly appeared in the doorway. “I figured that was going to happen. We can’t even finish a 500 piece puzzle together. So what do we do about the dynamite?”
“Just leave it. Come pick up George and carry him out of here.” I ordered.
So he squeezed past the opening in the desk and walked over to the wounded Dougman, reaching down to pick him up. Dougman let out a soft grunt as the larger, southern gentleman lifted him off the bloodstained tile. Angry Steve opened up the door to the office space and gestured to it with his SMG. “Come on! We gotta go! We gotta go!” He shouted.
I lead the group into the Office Space, guns held high and faces flushed with fury. When we got in the office, though, we were immediately confused. Unlike the situation in the Lobby, everything in this room was calm and peaceful. Several people wandered around, typing on computers, hanging out by the water-cooler, stuff like that. It was just an ordinary day for them. One guy stopped right in front of us and spoke directly to me like I was his buddy.
“Hey, are you the guys from the Trust downtown? We were told some coders would stop by and give us a hand with this new program we’ve been working on. Hey, is that guy bleeding?” he asked, motioning to Dougman.
“...Seriously? Do you guys not know that there is a bank heist going on right now? We’re bank robbers! We just shot a guy! There are police right outside the doors!” I shouted.
He paused for a moment. Then he spoke again. “So....you’re not the new coders?” He asked. Angry Steve swooped around and knocked him out with the stock of his gun. Then he began firing it into the ceiling, establishing his presence in the room. Everybody looked up from their respective computer screens and coffee cups and stared at us.
“Listen up, jackwagons! Top-of-the-line Criminals coming through! Make some space!” He shouted. Anybody who was standing in the aisle sorta scooted over as we ran down it, making our way towards the backdoor. I ran up and kicked it as hard as I could. It hurt like crazy but the door didn’t bulge. I kicked it again. Still, the door didn’t break down. I reached down and turned the doorknob, effectively opening the door. Then we all filed out.
The back alley looked exactly like what you would think it would. There were trashcans, sludge, wadded up newspapers, but of all the things I had expected to be in the back alley, Roger’s van wasn’t there.
“Where’s the Van? The Van was supposed to be here! Where the Bell is it?!” I shouted.
“Roger ain’t here yet. We gotta wait him out. Anybody got a book to read?” Angry Steve asked.
“We can’t; we got a man bleeding out here and the cops will be storming the bank any second now. We have to leave right now. Come on, follow me, I’m going to try to jack that car over here.” I motioned to a car that was parked on the side of the road by the Drugstore. I could see that whoever was in the car was having trouble starting it, so we had an opening to slip in and jack em’.
So Jumbo Jim carried Dougman over to the passenger side and I ran over with Angry Steve to the door. I look into the window, and guess who it is. It’s the old lady who knocked me down when I was trying to enter the bank. Yeah, this just got personal. She’s in there, trying to figure out which way to move the stick shift so that the car moves in reverse. I bang on the window and shout “Get out of the car!” She kinda shivers when she hears my voice and her bird like arm slowly moves over to press down on the button on the door. The window very slowly recedes into the door.
Then her head pivots over to glance up at me with her watery blue eyes. But while I was staring in awe at just how freaking old she was, I didn’t notice that she was swinging her cane at me. And she was fast too; I barely spotted it. I just felt it smack against the side of my head, literally breaking and shattering into several hundred pieces of wood. I covered the side of my hand with both hands, effectively dropping the pistol and falling over in pain. Angry Steve stepped in to open up the door I hadn’t realized wasn’t locked and pulled the old woman out of her chair. He got into the driver's seat and Jumbo Jim opened the door on the other side, slipping Dougman into the passenger seat.
After that Jumbo Jim slipped himself into the backseat on the right side. With my hand still covering the side of my face, I got up and opened up the door to backseat of the left side. I slipped in and slammed the door. Right after that, Steve took off, and we left the old lady in the dust! But I couldn’t enjoy it because my freaking face hurt! I was just holding on to it, groaning in pain as we took off. Then, the pain kinda fades, but so did all the sounds. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but when I looked around, the edges of my vision were blurred. Dougman glanced back and said “Dude, the cops are on our tail!” But he sounded really far away.
I could see the flashes of blue and red against the seat in front of me, but I was too busy keeping my head from spinning. “Guys...uh...you take over...I need to close my eyes for a moment...” I murmured. So I did. I closed my eyes...for a few hours. So I didn’t get to rob the bank. But atleast I got a donut out of it. So there may not be a gold lining, but there is a silver one...