For Andreas, getting by was proving hard each day. On his kitchen table was a bulk of water bills, telephone bills and a couple of parking tickets he had to pay. He was working two, day jobs but it still was not enough to give him the proper life he wanted. He dragged his tired bones to the kitchen to fix dinner. There weren’t any vegetables in the shelves, neither was there any cereal he had wished to gobble down with the 350ml milk he had picked from the matt on his way back to his apartment. There were three brown radishes in the fridge, discolored by over a week of their presence under low temperature, a cucumber, a jar of peanut butter, half a cheese bar and leftover canned sardines. He grabbed a bowl; the only one clean in the entire kitchen, warmed the sardines and munched on the cheese bar. A lousy dinner. With a glass of cold water in hand, he proceeded to his bedroom to make a call. 

“Hello Andreas, what do you want?”

“Huh, good morning to you too mike.”

“Look Andreas, I have to hung up in the next five minutes, my agent is ringing my phone nonstop.”

“Already in a foul mood I see, well am just not happy with this arrangement. Any nuggets of wisdom?” 

“Dude you just moved in there two months ago.” It was two and a half months to be precise 

“You need to take up the job offer, pharmaceutical isn’t as bad as working two jobs, besides it is stable.”

Quit whining! come on Andreas, you’ve got to do this thing, you’ve got to work your ass and get stuff done, man.”

“It’s almost as if everyone in this neighborhood does something to do with pharmaceuticals. If this doesn’t make me puke, I don’t know what will.” He heard Mike Hall sigh over the other end. “And it doesn’t real… hello?”

“Yup five minutes is done.” He said to himself.

Mike had hung up on the other end. How he kept time so accurately was still a resolution Andreas was working on. Perhaps it would do him good if he added it to his new year’s resolutions. His teller salary he earned plus the cashier job salary he earned was two percent greater than the offer at is new job. Though it was true that the new offer was stable. Andreas did not just want stability he wanted wealth and luxury, but his current situation had tied the knots of poverty around him so tight he couldn’t breathe. Just purchasing a bottle of whisky, for him he considered a waste of his hard-earned pennies. Saving had been included 2 years ago in his bucket list, a habit he had carried on to this day.

He checked his phone; 8;15 a.m. he had forty-five minutes to get ready in time for his new employment. He had to get his act together. The stage of life hadn’t been kind in the past two decades. Born to Alison Andreas Malik, Andreas had known a beautiful childhood even with the absence of his biological father then. At the age of ten, his loving mother succumbed to cervical cancer. Up till his eighteenth birthday Andreas had lived in three foster homes and the last year of his childhood spent in the Hilly Billy orphanage in Lost Springs, had made a couple of friends because of his outgoing personality and had met Mike in the automobile car shop where he worked as a sales representative. 

The closest thing he had to family was himself, he had to man up. There was no other way. If he was often complaining as Mike would say, it was because he had not felt the love of a family for many years and sharing his problems, he felt would meet his deficiency halfway. Mike Hall was a decent enough young man, had a gawky way of carrying himself around but was pretty enough to land a modeling job. A jackpot. 

“Well, here goes nothing.”

Andreas got into the building with huge glass windows engraved ‘Cosmos pharmaceuticals.’ His phone’s google map had led him to the rightly. He slid the front door to the building’s first floor and was glad to be away from the cold morning streets of Lost Springs. Autumn was welcoming winter with light night showers that had frequented the entire week. It was a Friday and he managed to be in their office at a quarter past seven. Luck must have romanced his name that chilly morning for he walked out with a job, even though he did not like it very much. As long as it would pay his many bills, it was good enough.

Hey neighbor, called a Tony, a guy who he had formed a rapport with since his moving. “Just in time, there is a delivery guy or whatever at your door, told him to wait for you a minute.”

“Thanks, you’re a genius.” He gave him a high five on his way up.

“Can I help you.” He greeted the mail man dressed in the typical grey corduroy pants and white mail shirt.

“I hope it is not another bill, that stuff brings me only troubles.”

“Well sir, whatever it is, I have not a clue.” He looked him in the face. “Andreas Greyson, am I right.”

“Yup correct, am the grey son.”

“Sign here please.” After hastily jotting down his signature, Andreas got into his apartment and went for the kitchen. He was always hungry after a long day, rather after any day. Sometimes he felt his huge appetite was a curse. The envelop he was handed was addressed in capital. To ANDREAS JR GREYSON. Strange, for his mother as the only one who had the knowledge of his awkward placement of names, with a ‘Jr’ in the middle of his first name and sir name. Sited on the edge of his bed, Andreas opened the letter.

  DEAR JR,

BY THE TIME YOU READ THIS I SHALL BE A DEAD MAN, BUT I HOPE THIS FINDS YOU WELL AND I HOPE YOU FORGIVE ME FOR THE FATHERLY VOID I LEFT IN YOUR LIFE. THERE IS A SECOND LETTER AFTER THE ATTACHMENT IN THIS ONE. 

Short and precise. His father did not even bother to give any explanation of his absence at length. Andreas eyes widened in disbelief. At the end of the letter was a footnote.

SECOND LETTER AT THE SAFE DEPOSIT BOX. ADDRESS BELOW. 

There was also an attachment to this weirdly written letter, a copy of a will. 

      Part 1.

‘I JEFFERSON GREYSON, RESIDING IN FORT WORTH, TEXAS, DECLARE THIS TO BE MY WILL, AND I REVOKE ANY AND ALL WILLS AND CODICILS I PREVIOUSLY MADE.’

Andreas eyes darted up and down the computer typed letter and finally rested at part two.

‘I GIVE ALL MY TANGIBLE PERSONAL PROPERTY, AND THE SUM OF ONE AND A HALF MILLION DOLLARS TO MY SON JR.’ 

Andreas lay on his back, this felt like a teaser for the really good life he had always dreamt of, but for it to come this way, it felt somewhat thrilling. He stared at his ceiling as he lay on the bed for half an hour, taking all the information in. As sure as the sun, he would be up the next day to find that second letter. A little adventure, he thought. 

It cost him an expensive plane ticket to Texas, and a hotel room booking. True to his late father’s words there in the safety deposit box, was an old brown paper folder twice. The only thing in the safety box. Its contents were written not as pleasant as he expected. It looked like something that was also written by a man who was in a great hurry.

DEAR SON,

HELLO, WE MEET AGAIN, EVEN THOUGH I LAY 6 FEET UNDER. YOU WILL NEED THE CHECKS TO PROCESS THE MONEY TRANSFER TO YOUR OWN ACCOUNTS. THE CHECKS ARE DATED UNTIL THE END OF NEXT MONTH. This gave him goosebumps in his forearms, got him to wonder what sort of a man his father was. 

‘YOU NEED A KEY TO OPEN THE SECOND SAFE BOX.’

“Great! another safe box, just great!” He snorted. These clues were becoming annoying by the levels.

‘THE KEY TO YOUR RICHES IS IN THE FROST BANK BUILDING, BURIED IN THE BASEMENT, FOUR FEET UNDER, IN A TREASURE CHEST.’ It was only a man who was mad enough to dig a hole in the floor of a bank building and burry a key to such fortunes, and that too four feet down. 

‘PS; THE TREASURE CHEST IS NOT LOCKED.’ The letter’s footnote. 

He had to figure out how to get those documents, first he had to get hold of that damned key. 

It was not as if Andreas had the option to just walk into the doors of the bank and ask for permission to the basement floor. The place where they often kept the cash vaults. If he had any options at all, they were all narrowed down to act as a maintenance and repair guy or rob the bank. It was also impossible to act the first, for banks are known to have scheduled times for repair and maintenance. He was left with only one option. To rob the bank. Illegally dig up, and steal a key that now legally belong to him. An act so dreadful he would have never imagined.

“Daaamn, crazy old man!” Mike said. He had come over after a lengthy phone conversation and a manly dinner night Andreas had lectured him into.

“But are you going to do it?

“You mean rob that bank?”

“Exactly!”

“Oh! you bet.” They had burst out in laughter. Andreas responded as though he had experience in theft or any armed robbery for that case. 

“I know a crew.” Mike had said after a lengthy silent. Andreas had been quiet, contemplating the next move. It was known that such crew would need payment but it wasn’t a big deal because his inheritance was worth it. He was the one in an uncomfortable situation, considering his lowly state and having to rob a bank not to steal a bundle of dollars but to blast a cement basement to retrieve a key, just a key. If he wasn’t crazy enough to do it solo, he was crazy enough to seek for help, and that, he knew, was not going to be legally sought.

“Get them on board then, my good man Mike. I shall purchase a muzo.”

“And the mask, costumes? Asked Mike.

“And the costumes.” Replied Jr Andreas.

He had just plan weeks to plan and execute the operation. He met up with the crew mike had spoken about. It turned out they were an actual bunch of robbers. All three of them were skilled at it, though it was unusual for a robbery group to be so few in number. With him and mike added, the were a team of five. If he were to be successful in this operation, he had to make sure none of them would be caught. They had sketched the buildings profile, had laid down an almost perfect plan, and had divided the roles. One rule was clear; non of them was allowed to steal actual money from the vaults. 

2;45 a.m. A Saturday. A winter Saturday. Mike was seated at the driver’s side of the seven-seater Toyota Vanguard. Andreas sat by him and the other crew members were at the back seats. His companions in the back seat had filled the car with the smoke of cigar they had been puffing on, and it was making him feel nauseated. They had parked in the shadows of a building two blocks away from the bank in order to monitored the movements in the streets. Until this moment Andreas had spent his savings to purchase the tools to use during this operation. He was almost running out on cash and that was why he needed his plan to work. 

“Alright time to go. Stick to the plan.” His smart watch alarm vibrated on his wrist, 3.a.m. There was no backing off.