Turning back to the camera, she said, "For those who don't know what we are talking about there is a story about a miracle being witnessed in the small town of Alyssa Falls. It seems that a young girl afflicted with Cerebral Palsy has been cured."
Still in the kitchen, Jason caught the reference to Alyssa Falls but when he made it to the living room, the newscasters had moved on to another story. Shaking his head, he went back into the kitchen.
It was time to leave anyway he thought, grabbed his jacket and umbrella, closed and locked the door behind him and entered the elevator. He exited onto the parking level and gingerly got into the dirty SUV. Maybe the rain would help wash away some of the grime.
He drove to the Museum of World History, parked in the staff parking lot in the back, grabbed the umbrella, and entered through the small back entry door reserved for staff. After scanning his ID badge, the entry buzzer started his working day. The security guard, Robert, greeted him as he made his way to his office on the third floor of the building.
In his role as Curator of Ancient History at the Museum of World History, Jason specialized in the civilizations that flourished in and around the island of Crete. He had recently secured the loan of a collection of Minoan artefacts which covered the periods of Early Minoan (3000 - 2200 BC), Middle Minoan (2200 - 1500 BC) and Late Minoan (1500 - 1000 BC) periods. He knew the acquisition of any new collection always required many person-hours of setup to ensure both the safety of the artefacts and the best layout design possible to ensure that visitors could both see and understand the nature of the items on display. He reviewed the initial floor plan on arrival at the office and then began the painstaking work of designing the actual position of each artefact by its period in time and the type of containment unit needed to display it. There were over two hundred pieces including jewellery, statuary, weapons, money, and pottery fragments, some with examples of the Linear A and B scripts, something of which his own dad was interested in as it was still a puzzle to be deciphered.
By lunchtime, Jason needed a break. He grabbed his jacket and umbrella and stepped out of the building to get some lunch. My hunger seems insatiable lately, he thought as his stomach grumbled, maybe it's because everything seems to taste so much better all of a sudden.
With the rain coming down in heavy sheets, Jason decided on Schwartz's Diner located halfway down the block on the other side of the street, down near the Commerce Credit Union. Everyone in the city knew the diner. Alitz Schwartz's dad opened it back in the 1950's and had since built up a strong reputation for making the best deli sandwiches in the whole city. Holding his umbrella low over his head and upper back, he half ran to the corner to catch the walk light. He closed down the umbrella and pulled open the door to the diner. The enticing aromas of the different meats and sauces enveloped him and his mouth began to water. Stepping to the counter he gazed down on the cornucopia of delights so many choices. Realizing he was holding up the line of customers he quickly grabbed a tray and placed his order for pastrami piled high between two thick slices of homemade rye bread, mustard and the traditional dill pickle.
"Do you want a side to go with that?" the young counter clerk asked.
"Sure. What do you recommend?" Jason asked.
The young man sighed, scratched his pimply face, and in a bored tone suggested the homemade coleslaw with its creamy sharp sauce and crisp cabbage.
"You talked me into it," Jason replied with a smile, "And add a piece of apple pie as well please."
The clerk scooped some of the coleslaw mixture and dropped it onto a plate then slid it down the counter for the next person to add the sandwich. He reached behind him for a piece of pie, plated it and handed it to Jason over the counter. Jason took the plate, placed it on his tray, grabbed a bottle of spring water from the cooler, and made his way to the cash register.
As he waited his turn to pay, he studied the old man taking the money. He was about sixty-five, almost bald with light wispy grey hair growing from his droopy ears. His nose was large and bulbous with a brown freckle on its tip. The lips were thick and pink and reminded Jason of the lips that used to come with the Mr. Potato Head toy he used to play with as a child. The eyes were a runny blue, set back into heavy rolls of fat that crinkled with deep laugh lines. His chins cascaded down to his barrel shaped chest and his belly that was round and jiggled when he moved. Most of the belly hid behind the counter, as he couldn't be much more than five and a half feet tall.
"Morning Mr. Schwartz, how are you today?" Jason asked with genuine affection as he handed him the money.
Mr. Schwartz said, "I’m good. How are you and things down at the museum?”
Jason answered back, "Getting older."
Mr. Schwartz laughed as he looked down at the piece of pie in front of Jason. “You've never ordered apple pie before?"
Jason answered, "I've developed a recent liking for it.”
"So, where you been Jason? Haven't seen you in days?" The old man smiled, showing his big square teeth, yellowed now with age.
"I took a quick trip to the country, just got back yesterday," he replied.
"When you gonna settle down, marry some nice young girl and start having babies before you get too old," commented Mr. Schwartz.
"I'll make you a deal," laughed Jason, "When you retire, then I'll settle down!" They both shared a laugh knowing the old man would probably never retire. This was a standing joke between them and as he took his change, Jason stepped back. "See you again soon Al."
Jason sat down at the nearest table to the door and proceeded to take a deep bite of the sandwich. His eyes closed as he savoured the combinations of flavour from the bite of the mustard to the spices of the meat mixing with the vinegary sharpness and salty crispness of the pickle. Once he finished the sandwich, he took his first bite of the apple pie. He had been looking forward to it and though it was good, it was not the best. He knew where he had recently had the best. With a sigh of regret, he got to his feet and picked up the tray. Dumping the contents into the garbage bin by the door, he pulled his jacket around him and pushed open the door, opening the umbrella once it closed behind him.
When he had put his change back into his wallet he noticed that he was running low on cash, something he rarely allowed to happen. I'd better stop at the ATM machine and get some money out of the account he thought to himself as he turned towards the credit union a few doors down.
Unbeknownst to Jason, while he was enjoying his lunch break, events were unfolding at the credit union that would change his life, as he was beginning to feel it, forever.
Chapter 7
FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE
Dried Up Water Well Flows Again
TAOUDENNI, MALI, WEST AFRICA – The dried up well supporting the three thousand residents of this desert village in the Sahara Desert has suddenly sprung back to life.
For many years, conditions have contributed to a significant diminishing of the available water, threatening the existence of the small community. The desert in this area averages approximately one-half inch of rain in any given year. It is currently the dry season and there has been no reported rain in the last seven months.
This small village is located on the camel caravan (Azalai) route between the salt flats of Taoudenni and the commerce town of Timbuktu, approximately four hundred fifteen miles to the south of Taoudenni.
Earlier in the day, a small group of regular Nomadic salt miners had passed through the area but this time there was a young stranger travelling with them. No one seemed to know who he was or when he joined the caravan.
Without warning, during the day the brackish water well suddenly started to overflow with clear cold water.
The villagers have tasted the water and pronounced it sweet and refreshing and the elders agreed that it had never tasted this good in the past.
The level of the water also does not appear to decrease as the villagers draw from it.
The village Leader has declared this event to be a miracle. T
he local authorities have no explanation for the sudden appearance of the water. No religious faction has yet offered any explanation.
Contact:
Mansa Battuta
[email protected] Chapter 8
Johnny had taken refuge under the awning of one of the stores across from the Commerce Credit Union to watch. His nerves were on edge and he sucked on his cigarette, hoping to calm himself down. He paced in front of the store keeping under the awning. No point in getting any wetter he thought to himself. His stomach churned and his hands shook as he contemplated his next move. He brushed the long stringy wet hair from his eyes with his gloved hand and felt in the pocket of his jacket for the gun and balaclava.
His eyes narrowed. Best time would be just before the lunchtime was over he thought. There should be less people in there and the staff should be more relaxed. He removed his baseball cap, pulled out the balaclava, and pulled it over his head, rolled the rim up so it looked more like a cap, then replaced the baseball cap over top. He glanced down at his imitation Rolex 12:55pm and took a deep breath. It was time to go.
He flicked the stub of the cigarette into a puddle, looked both ways, and crossed the street. He glanced back to see if anyone was watching him and then slipped inside the first set of doors to the credit union. He pulled the cap down low over his forehead shading his eyes from the cameras before casually entering the inside set of doors to the main customer service area of the credit union.
This was one of the older style locations with counters set up around the outside to fill in your deposit or withdrawal slips prior to lining up to hand it to the teller. He also knew the design of the security system wasn't as good on this building as on newer credit unions. It had limited cameras and they were concentrated on specific areas of the credit union. It was probably too expensive to install them in areas that were not that critical. Knowing this he knew they would not have seen him in between the two sets of doors. If I had designed the security system, I would have made sure I could see everything coming and going from the credit union. I'd rather be prepared than surprised like today he thought to himself knowing this oversight would be to his benefit, which was why he chose this credit union in particular. With it raining today, there would be fewer people around to see him or for him to have to control.
He made his way to the outer counter, his head looking down at the floor. Keeping his gloves on Johnny pretended to fill in a form as he surreptitiously surveyed the staff, the single guard, and the few customers. The guard stood at the entrance, looking bored and sleepy, his gun pushed back on his hip. It would take him way too long to get to it from there if he needed it in a hurry Johnny shook his head with disgust and turned his attention to the rest of the staff, the two tellers young attractive mid-twenties, one very clearly pregnant. I should approach that one. She is certainly not going to give me any problems he reflected as he turned his attention to the other girl. Now that one I wouldn’t trust, he observed. She was a fiery redhead and clearly very self-confident. I will have to watch her she’s the one that would be fast enough and smart enough to push the alarm button he thought. Maybe I should use her instead of the prego he queried himself but ultimately decided to leave it to fate to decide which one he ended up choosing.
Back behind the wicket was a small desk with a neat prissy looking man in a tailored black business suit. He wore his bottle black hair slicked back with gel and he had a small pencil moustache heavily waxed at the ends to form large curls protruding about one inch on either side of his face. He must be the manager. He seemed to be focussing intently on the paperwork piled on his desk, and did not lift his head at any point to look out at the credit union or the tellers directly in front of him.
Next to come under his scrutiny were the customers. One older man and woman clearly an old married couple were filling in a slip on the other side of the room. She was using a cane and not able to move about with any sense of ease. The slightly hunched old man still appeared to be in good physical shape. Why is it when people get older they wear those baggy old man clothes? The kind that rides half way up to the armpits and then suspenders to boot he asked himself. Not me! No way am I going to look like that. His eyes strayed to the next customer. It was a middle-aged woman dressed in a very expensive business suit carrying her raincoat over her arm. She concentrated on her cell phone not appearing to hear the pregnant teller call to her. Eventually she lifted her head looked down her nose at the girl, turned her attention back to the cell phone pushed a couple of buttons then casually strolled over to the wicket handing over her slip.
There were no other customers to worry about so now seemed to be the best time possible. He picked up the fake slip of paper, positioned himself in line, and then bent over as if to tie his shoe. In one quick fluid motion, his hands had grabbed the edge of the balaclava and pulled it down over his face. As he stood up, he pulled his gun from his other pocket and trained it on the guard, and yelled, “This is a robbery. Everyone get your hands up, you especially Red.”
He was talking directly to the red headed teller. She quickly moved to obey raising her hands and stepping back from the counter. The initial screaming had stopped and everyone stared at him with fear and apprehension.
He motioned with his gun for everyone to move towards him, “Come on over here, and get on the floor. As they say...assume the position,” he laughed, "Throw your purses and cell phones across the room." He crossed to the guard, removed his gun and pushed it into the back waistband of his jeans.
Once the customers and the guard were safely on the floor, Johnny motioned to the three behind the screens.
“Open the door now and get out here,” he commanded, training the gun on the pregnant girl. Her face grew paler as she moved to the door. The next through the door was the manager clearly more perturbed at having to leave his work than the gun trained on his belly. The last to come to the door was the red head.
Johnny shook his head at her. “Not you Red. I need you to get the money.” He held her arm while he checked to make sure everyone else was sprawled face down on the floor.
“I’m only going to say this once. If anyone moves, reaches for anything or even twitches wrong, you'll be responsible for what happens to this girl.” He waited a moment to allow this to sink in and then yanked the girl’s arm and pulled her back into the wicket area. Pulling a black garbage bag from his back pocket, he handed it to her.
“Fill it up with everything in your till and prego’s.” He pushed her to the counter his eyes continually moving between the girl and the people on the floor.
She quickly began stuffing money into the bag until both tills were empty except for the change.
“Now what?” she asked brazenly as she handed the bag to him watching him intently trying to remember features she could identify later. As he had watched her fill the bag his heart sank, it wasn’t enough. He had to keep going. He needed more if he was going to succeed in what he needed to accomplish.
“We need to go to the safe,” he advised her.
“It's back there.” She motioned with her chin knowing in her mind that she was prepared to give him whatever was in the safe. She hoped it would be enough to satisfy him.
“Good.” He grabbed her arm again and moved back to the door.
“All right everyone. Get up and follow Red to the safe.”
He moved slightly out of the way pushed the girl back in the direction of the safe and then allowed the others to move past him. The older woman had some difficulty getting up but the others helped her and eventually everyone was standing in the safe.
“Okay Red, I need you to put more money in this bag.” He handed her back the plastic bag. The girl turned to the shelves and began stuffing money in the bag. When it was full, she turned and handed it to Johnny.
“That's more like it,” he said, glancing down at the bag and then stepped out of the doorway of the safe.
“I’m sorry I have to do this,”
he said.
He closed the door to the safe and spun the giant wheel, locking them inside. He sighed with relief. Everything was going as planned.
******
Jason closed his umbrella, then entered the first set of doors to the credit union and as he turned towards the ATM machines, he glanced through the glass doors and realized that George the security guard wasn’t at his usual location and he could see no tellers or customers at the wickets.
That’s strange.
Something is not right, he thought taking another step back. The hair on his arms tingled and he listened intently. With his heightened sense of hearing, he could hear the far-off sounds of banging emanating from back behind the wickets, somewhere beyond the areas accessible to visitors. As he continued to listen, he heard someone moving about in the back office area. Something made him step back even further to stand just in front of the first set of glass doors, waiting for the person to come to him.
Johnny took another quick look around the office to see if there was anything else of value, finding nothing, he grabbed up the bag and proceeded to leave the office area. His mind was busy congratulating himself on pulling it off. Now there would be enough money. He did not notice the figure standing between the two sets of glass doors, between him and freedom.