Desperate Bewilderment

January 24, 2012
By Emily Guthrie BRONZE, Alva, Oklahoma
Emily Guthrie BRONZE, Alva, Oklahoma
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

She watched as he walked into the bank. She knew what he was up to as soon as he walked through the door. He had on a long tan over coat with the collar pulled up to his chin trying to conceal his face. A red scarf was wrapped around the lower half of his face and the 40's style hat he wore was pulled low over his eyes. He looked like he had just walked in from a blizzard. The only problem was that it was the middle of August in Texas. To her, it was very clear what the man was up to. She walked across the bank and leaned in towards one of the security guards on duty and whispered in his ear, "That man has a gun. He's going to rob the bank." The guard pulled back and laughed. "Lady", he said, "you know that there's a metal detector at the front doors, the very same front doors he just walked through. If he did have a gun, which he doesn't, the silent alarm would have gone off and I would have been notified. There's nothing to worry about." With a smug grin on his face he turned back to his post. Angrily she started towards the center of the bank but the security guard grabbed her arm to stop her. "Ma'am, I cant have you scarin' the rest of the customers. I'd like for you to just leave. Now." She angrily jerked her arm free of his grasp and glared up at him. She turned back towards the front doors just as two gun shots rang through the air. The mans voice echoed through the bank, "Nobody moves! I want your hands and face on the ground now!" She turned and nodded to the guard as she slowly bent towards the floor. She saw his eyes were full of fear and question and she couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. He should have listened to her.

Once on the ground she watched the man closely. It was like a movie being played in slow motion. She watched him wave his gun, watched him fire two more shots in the air when the teller refused to cooperate with his demands. She could see the desperate anger in his face. When she was sure he wasn't looking her way, she slowly pulled out her cell phone and dialed 9-1-1. That was when the boot came out of no where, smashing down on her phone. She was pulled up roughly by her hair and a gun pressed under her chin. "You think your smooth baby? Think your gonna call the cops? Well Franky sees all baby, and the cops just ain’t an option." He thrust her towards the money bags. "Pick them up and walk to the back." He pointed the gun at her. His hand was steady, eyes boring into her. She weighed her options and bent down to pick up the bags.

He followed her to the back and instructed her to load the car. Out back a little green car sat, doors and trunk already open, waiting to be filled. Her hands trembled violently as she piled the money into his car, but she stayed calm. This man was crazy and she had to be careful. She didn't know what he was capable of. Surely not murder, but he was trigger happy. She couldn't afford to make him angry. She finished putting the money in his car and backed away slowly, her hands in the air. "Where you think your going doll face?" Franky grinned at her, a crazy look in his eye. 'O God', she thought. 'Surely he's not taking me with him'. He grabbed her behind the neck and pushed her into the drivers seat. "Them cops are looking for a car driven by a man, not a dame like yourself. They'll never suspect a thing. By the time they find out I took you with me, it'll be too late. Besides, I could use me some company in Mexico."

They pulled calmly away from the bank and headed south to Mexico. Franky was right, the police suspected nothing. They drove all night and Franky told her all about himself. How he grew up in Georgia and his wife had just divorced him a little over a year ago. She took the house, the kids, everything. All because he couldn't control his drinking. "She said I got angry when I got drunk. Hell, I only hit her a few times! That didn't mean I didn't love her. She knows I didn't mean to right?" The car fell silent, the question remaining unanswered. She knew he'd asked the question before. Probably on a daily basis. They drove on in silence for about an hour. She was the one to break the silence. "Do you know how you got through the metal detectors?" She stared at him, waiting for his answer. Finally he admitted he didn't know there were metal detectors, he had stopped there on his way to Mexico. "I disabled them about thirty minutes before you came in." She said, looking him calmly in the eyes. "I want to thank you for messing up my plan. I don't think mine would have turned out this beautifully."

Franky smiled at her smugly. "Well doll face -" That was as far as he got. The gun shot cut him off. She pulled over just before the Mexican border and pushed his body into a ditch. It wasn't hard. All she had to do was open the passenger door and he just sort of rolled out. Before she left she took everything from his pockets. A wallet, a wad of cash, and a picture of a woman, she assumed was his wife. She turned back and tucked the picture of his wife into his front breast pocket. "Thanks Franky baby," she whispered as she pulled back onto the road. The sun was just beginning to rise along the horizon. She loved to watch the sun rise.

The author's comments:
I love crime stories, but there aren't very many of them

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