Money Can't Buy You Everything

“Is nobody gonna say it?” I asked intently.

“Say what, Winston?” Marion’s rough voice asked in response. Years of smoking cheap cigarettes left his voice like that, all raspy and rough. Nonetheless, it had just as much of an effect of intimidation as I imagine it would without the effects of smoking. 

“Say how ridiculous this plan is, Marion. We’re all going to lose our lives trying to do this and you know that. It doesn’t matter how much money you have if you’re in a graveyard full of holes cops shot in ya.” I sat up from my seat and looked everyone in the eyes. Marion, then Marley. Afterwards Jim and Joey. Back and forth. Marion and Marley were brothers and so were Jim and Joey. All of us had been friends for years, and yet I was still the outcast here. I also seemed to be the only person who could see that this plan was not going to work. 

Jim spoke up, “Well, Winston, what else do you want to do?” He tried to reason with me. “We’re all broke and in debt. The recession has cut off any job opportunities in this desert, and our families are starving. I know you feel that pressure for your family,” He said as he pointed his finger at me. His accent was just as strong as his point. We were all starving and we had already tried everything else. I sat there, silent. 

“Let me tell ya what, Winston.” Marion had taken over again. That’s how it always went, control bouncing between Marion and Jim while Marley and Joey just followed their lead. “Let me run through the plan one more time. Ya think that would make ya feel better?” I just nodded. There was no point in arguing. The two pairs of brothers were set on this plan, and seemed willing to die for it. “Alright!” He was always enthusiastic even with the intimidating tone of his voice. “Tomorrow morning, at 6:00am, Marley and Joey will get in the AXIOM truck and head into the bank, uniforms and everything, as if they were there for their normal 6:30 pickup. They’ll be in the back getting the charges ready, prepping the getaway truck for us to leave in as soon as we got the cash. They’ll take their time, and Winston, Jim, and I will go into the bank while they’re there to ‘take out a loan.’ Once they give us the signal, we’ll hold up the bank, take out whatever cash they have from the front, release the decoy AXIOM workers into the lobby who are drugged up and don’t know what the heck has been goin on, and get the heck out of there through the back in the getaway truck. Clear?”

“Clear!” The rest responded excitedly, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. How could I turn away from the only plan that we’ve been able to come up with on the brink of bankruptcy and starvation. However, I could feel Marion’s gaze burn into the side of my head. Thankfully, he let it be. We all gathered our stuff and left the warehouse we met at. It had been abandoned due to the recession. I headed to my beat up, old green pick up, got in, sat down, and closed the heavy, metal door. 

I put the window down because of how hot it got inside the truck, and Marion walked over. He set one arm on the window sill and leaned in to talk. “Winston, I trust you.” I looked at him with a strange look. Why would he be saying that? Did he think that I suspected he didn’t trust me and that’s why I didn’t trust the plan? What was it with this whole thing about trust? It almost bothered me. Trust wouldn’t fix the fact that the plan was going to get us killed or put into jail, but he didn’t care. 

“I know, Marion. I trust you too,” I responded with a half smile. The desert heat seemed to cook the both of us while we sat there. He patted my shoulder and walked off without another word. I switched my truck into drive and headed home. On the way home, I decided to stop at the gas station to get a pack of cigarettes just like I always did on my way home from the warehouse. The aisles seemed empty. It was just me, the cashier, and all the products in the store. 

Ring. 

I heard the door open and the bell that accompanied it. Two men, dressed in nicer suits walked in. There was the obvious bulge in the right side of their suit coats, indicating that they were both armed. This is bad, I thought. With the quality of those suits and the guns they had hidden, they had to be federal agents, and I just so happened to be planning to rob a federal bank tomorrow. Did they know? I kept browsing for a moment longer to avoid suspicion, but headed for the back of the store as I did. Soon, I dropped what was in my hand and turned to head directly out the back door. My hand touched the hot metal of the backdoor as another hand grabbed my shoulder. I was turned around forcefully and made eye contact with the federal agent holding me. He put his hand over my mouth and pushed me into the door, opening it, and outside. The man slammed me against the wall and his partner walked outside, quietly closing the door behind him. 

“Winston Thatcher. That’s you, correct?” The man asked him.

“Why? Who’s asking, buddy?” I wanted to play it safe before confirming anything to anyone that I didn’t have to. 

The one who wasn’t holding me against the wall pulled out a wallet and opened it to show me his badge on the inside. FBI. It was what I feared. “We’re two federal agents with the FBI and we’re investigating what could be a possible bank robbery. Would you happen to know anything about that?”

I was done for. What happened to bank robbers? I had always seen movies about them on the TV, but in those movies they always made it out with all the cash or died in a blaze of glory. There was no movie that I had seen where the bank robber was found by the FBI the day before the robbery to be questioned and possibly put in prison. “No, no I don’t know anything about that, sir.” 

“Really? I find that hard to believe given we have you on security camera footage stealing an AXIOM truck. I would also find that hard to believe if we had copies of plans to rob a bank found in a factory that you’re seen leaving everyday, which we do. We know that you have accomplices and you’re not planning this alone, but we don’t know who they are. Mr. Thatcher, we would love to know who they are.” His tone was almost pleasant, calmly inquiring about the bank robbery. This man seemed different from his partner. He was definitely more accustomed to doing the talking in whatever situations they find themselves in. “In fact, we’re willing to work with you to find out who these men are.”

I was shocked. Work with me? Why would they work with someone who they know is planning a bank robbery? “Why?” I asked.

“Because we know you’re a good man, Mr. Thatcher. You have a clean record, worked at factories contracted by the government for years until the recession, and are very obviously just trying to put food on the table for your wife and kids.” The man folded his hands in front of him.

“So, if I knew who these men were and told you, you would work with me? What does ‘working with me’ look like?” I responded. 

“It would look like immunity for you and a relocation for you and your family. We understand that the Santa Barbara desert isn’t the best place to raise a family right now with the recession and what not. But, other states are doing well, and there’s opportunity. You might even be allowed to keep a cut of the money, to make the story of what would happen more believable.”

“Story?”

“Yes, story Mr. Thatcher. We know that you and a group of other men are planning on robbing a federal bank tomorrow, but we don’t know who the other men are and which bank. Without your help, we wouldn’t be able to stop that effectively without some type of loss. With your help, you could go in, go along with the plan, but we would stop your group in the process. They would be processed and you would ‘get away.’ Once moved, you would explain it to your family that you were offered a job on the east coast and they offered to relocate you and pay a very handsome signing bonus. Then you and your family would move and start a new life.- Simple as that.”

“So let me get this straight,” at this point the one guard had stopped pinning me to the wall and was standing next to the man speaking to me. Hope started to creep into my heart, but it was covered in dread. I would have to sacrifice my friends, but it would mean immunity, safety, and a new start at stability with my family. I would do anything for my family. “I rat out my partners, we go through with it but you guys stop us, get me out, and move me and my family across the country to start a new life?”

“That’s correct, Mr. Thatcher,” said the agent with a pleasant smile. I thought long and hard about it. Weighed the pros and cons in my head. However, at the end, all that could come into my mind was the thought of my wife and kids. They were so precious to me, and if I didn’t take this deal I would probably end up going to jail anyways and they would starve out in this desert. I was literally and metaphorically pinned up against the wall, and there was only one clear solution. 

“Okay,” I sighed. “I’ll do it.”

The man seemed to break into excitement like a child, which was very strange to me given the situation. “Wonderful! Now, you don’t have to do anything but tell us the detailed plan right now, and then go through with it tomorrow. Here,” He pulled out a red bandana. “Wear this on your arm tomorrow. This will ensure that nothing happens to you as all my men will be heavily briefed. You’ll basically be one of us.” He smiled. One of us, how could it be that a former bank robber is now one of these special agents? “Now, what’s the plan, Mr. Thatcher?” 

For about fifteen minutes, we stood behind that gas station and I explained the plan to them down to every single detail. After I was done, they thanked me for my help, and walked off, to their car I assume. I walked back in through the back of the gas station, as if I had been in the bathroom for a while, grabbed my pack of cigarettes, and left. I drove down the poorly maintained road, cigarette lit and in my mouth, thinking about everything that had just happened. When I got home that night, I simply sat on the couch next to my family and watched the TV with them. However, my mind was nowhere near that house. It was thinking of what those agents had told me. It was thinking of what would happen tomorrow and how everything would go down. It was dreaming of a brand new house on the east coast with a cushy new job, my wife comfortable at home, and my kids in a good school. I smiled. Yes, I finally decided, it is worth it. That might have been the best night of sleep I had since we moved to that desert valley. 

The next morning I met Marion and Jim at the warehouse to head to the bank together at 7:30am. They hopped in my truck, and I started to drive without a word said. 

“Are you ready, Winston?” Marion asked me. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone?

“Ready as I’ll ever be to die in a bank heist.” I responded.

“You’re not gonna die, Winston, and you know that.” He looked at me from the passenger seat. “You trust me right?”

“I already told you yesterday yes I….” I didn’t finish my sentence. When I looked over to tell him that I trusted him, I saw a red bandana on his right arm, just as I had put mine on my arm. He gave me a look of certainty, a look that almost said he knew how clever it was. Why? Why did Marion have the same red bandana on his arm? I guess the government needed two of us to play the story off. But Marion? I have no connection to these men other than work and poverty, but Marion is sacrificing his own brother for this, and his friends. I couldn’t believe it. “Yes, I trust you.” 

We arrived at the bank, nothing said after that despite all of the pressure and tension in my truck. As we walked in, I noticed something different. There were cars all around the bank, just in different business’ parking lots. All of them were the same make and model, and all of them had blacked out windows. Once inside, Marion started to speak with the loan officer. I noticed sitting towards the vault of the bank were the two agents I had spoken with last night. I couldn’t believe I was actually doing this. 

After about five minutes of talking, reviewing our fake documents and everything, we got the signal- a simple call from Joey. Marion answered the phone and excused himself to step outside to answer it. Jim did the same and went with him while I kept up the act. They returned in with animal masks on. Marion was a pig and Jim was a sheep. I was a wolf. They handed me my mask and I put it on. I pulled out the gun I had been concealing and grabbed the loan officer, shoving the bunt of the gun against the side of his head. 

Marion started yelling, and it was honestly all a blur. The workers started pulling out bags of money from the vault for us. There was screaming everywhere. People were on the ground. Then Joey and Marley let out the drugged AXIOM workers who also had animal masks on into the lobby. I dropped the loan officer and we started to run for it. As soon as we ran, the two agents stood up and yelled for us to freeze. We didn’t. The sound of a gun went off and two bullets flew into Jim. He screamed in pain and what I imagine was surprise. Marion and I kept running. 

We ran out the back door to the getaway car and ripped our masks off. Joey and Marley were standing there waiting for us, the car full of money. I got into the driver’s seat and Marion in the passenger’s seat. As Joey opened the door, a bullet flew into his hand. He fell back in pain, and another hit his neck, killing him. I started the car. 

Marley ran over to Joey and Marion screamed, “NO Marley!!! Get in the-” he was cut off by three bullets hitting Marley in the back. He doubled over and fell into the dust of the desert floor. Marion was frantic, screaming. He jumped out of the truck and ran for his brother. As he held him in his arms, the cops burst out of the back of the bank and arrested him. I drove off and they started shooting at the car, so I pulled my bandana off and held it out the window so that they could see. They stopped shooting, and Marion was taken away. 

~

“I assume that what Marion did wasn’t part of the plan because he was arrested and put into jail for the crime with the stage AXIOM workers and I got away, completely free. I met the agents later and the one was just as enthusiastic as always, but I was even more dead inside than my dead partners were. Guilt and remorse filled me, and still do fill me to this day. But, I can’t say anything to my family because they would hate me forever. I’m just constantly in a state where I have something so big that I want to say and they have no idea, but I’m not allowed to say anything. Does that make sense?”

“It does, Mr. Thatcher, and that’s a wonderful story to express your point.” My therapist said while writing notes down on his notepad. 

“What? A story?” I then realized, I shouldn’t even trust this therapist. “Oh yes, I thought nothing less than a story would properly express my point. I should go now. Thank you for this session.”

“Same time next week?” He asked.

“Yeah, see you next week.”

I walked out to my luxury car. It was no less than a year old. I opened the door and sat inside, placing my hands on my face. This was my life now, forever. I was forever trapped in that dusty desert where my only friends had died.