The Heist

 

It wasn’t the rent that worried Jack. That was huge, over six hundred dollars a month, a third of his income. But it was manageable. It was the two dollar bus fare each way to work, the three dollars for lunch each day, the three dollars a week at the laundromat, the twenty dollars a week for groceries, and the dribs and drabs of fifty cents here, a dollar there, that could not be avoided and never ended. And then there was his bar bill, on which he still owed twenty-two dollars.

So he decided to do what anybody would do in this situation. He would rob a bank. 

One could say that it didn’t go according to plan, except that he didn’t really have a plan. He knew he needed a disguise, and he knew he needed some kind of credible threat. The disguise was easy, he could go to the party store and get a mask. The threat was more difficult. He didn’t own a gun or even a large kitchen knife. He did have a broomstick, and decided that if he hid the broomstick under his coat, it would look like a gun. 

And so, at 2:55 PM on Friday, Popeye entered the First Savings and Loan of Haddonfield, New Jersey with a large bulge under his coat and announced, with great fanfare, “This is a stickup!” The only person in the bank was an elderly teller, Judy. She looked at him with amusement. Popeye shoved a note under Judy’s counter while nudging the bulge in his coat menacingly. The note said, “Give me all of your money and I won’t hurt you.” Judy looked at the note and then looked back at Popeye. She did not seem half as scared as Popeye imagined she would be. In fact, she didn’t really seem scared at all. She seemed to be thinking. 

Judy gestured for Popeye to come closer. She told him that she was retiring in two weeks. She had ten thousand dollars in her drawer. She would give it all to him and tell the manager she had been robbed. Then she would meet him that evening and they would split the money. 

Five thousand dollars seemed like a lot of money to Jack, now Popeye, much more than he ever imagined he would get. And with Judy in on it, there was hardly any chance of getting caught. He agreed. 

Judy wanted some insurance that he would actually turn up. So he showed her his driver’s license. She took a photo and then handed him the ten thousand dollars. They agreed to meet at 6:00 that evening at the corner pharmacy. As Popeye walked away, he heard the alarms in the bank start to blare.

He was having second thoughts about parting with half of his ten thousand dollars, but she had proof of his identity, so he had no choice. Besides, he would still end up with five thousand dollars, which was more money than he had ever seen. So he met as they had agreed and he handed over her share. 

Popeye, now Jack again, felt flush. He went to his favorite bar, paid his outstanding tab and ordered a round for the house. Jimmy, the bartender, had the news on TV. And there was Judy, being interviewed. She was sobbing hysterically. She told how she had been robbed by a vicious man who threatened to kill her if she didn’t give him the bank’s money. She held up his note for the camera. She had been terrified. He took not only the money in her drawer, but also all the money that was waiting in the back of the bank for the armored car service. In total, three hundred and ten thousand dollars. She was still shaking. She told the reporter she was afraid the robber would return. She could never go back. 

And she didn’t. When Jack went to see her the next day to ask about the three hundred thousand dollars, Judy was not there. The manager said she had been so scared, she had quit. Nobody knew where she had gone. But she had left something, a note for Jack. It just said, Thank You.

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Spiritual questions:

• If somebody else gets much more than you get for the same work, how do you feel?
• Even if what you received was plenty?
• Why do you feel that way?
• What do you think you should do about it? 

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December 3, 2020 - This was written with the Roundhouse Writing Group in Santa Cruz, Guatemala, remotely from Guanajuato, Mexico. The writing prompt for the  session was: It wasn't the big things, it was the little things. 

This is one of my Parables for the Spiritual but not Religious Series.

The photograph is from 401kcalculator.org and made available through Flickr and Creative Commons, some rights may be reserved.

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