“Nothing that’s exceedingly interesting,” I said, and opened the door, and dangled a leg out and then had the rest of my body follow the leg.
“You got five minutes, you understand?” the man said.
I nodded and glanced at Laura. “I love you.”
“I’m sorry about the letter.”
“You know the funny thing? I was hiding your present, that’s how I found it. I was going to tuck it in your underwear drawer and have you find them. You know, the pearls.”
“You got me the pearl necklace?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet.”
“Go get the goddamned money,” the man said, “and get it fast.”
“I’ll be right back,” I said to Laura and blew her a little kiss.
If I hadn’t been sodden before, I certainly was now.
There were two brick buildings facing each other across a narrow alley. Most people drove up to this particular ATM machine because it was housed in a deep indentation that faced the alley. It could also accommodate foot traffic.
What it didn’t do was give you much protection from the storm.
By now, I was sneezing and feeling a scratchiness in my throat. Bad sinuses. My whole family.
I walked up to the oasis of light and technology in this ancient and wild neighborhood, took out my wallet and inserted my ATM card.
It was all very casual, especially considering the fact that Laura was being held hostage.
The card would go in. The money would come out. The thief would get his loot. Laura and I would dash to the nearest phone and call the police.
Except I couldn’t remember my secret pin number.
If I had to estimate how many times I’d used this card, I’d put it at probably a thousand or so.
So how, after all those times, could I now forget the pin number?
Panic. That’s what was wrong. I was so scared that Laura would be hurt that I couldn’t think clearly.
Deep breaths. There.
Now. Think. Clearly.
Just relax and your pin number will come back to you. No problem.
That was when I noticed the slight black man in the rain parka standing just to the left of me. In the rain. With a gun in his hand.
“You wanna die?”
“Oh, shit. You’ve got to be kidding. You’re a goddamned thief?”
“Yes, and I ain’t ashamed of it, either, man.”
I thought of explaining it to him, explaining that another thief already had first dibs on the proceeds of my bank account — that is, if I could ever remember the pin number but he didn’t seem to be the understanding type at all. In fact, he looked even more desperate and crazy than the man who was holding Laura.
“How much can you take out?”
“I can’t give it to you.”
“You see this gun, man?”
“Yeah. I see it.”
“You know what happens if you don’t crank some serious money out for me?”
I had to explain after all. “... so, you see, I can’t give it to you.”
“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
“Somebody’s already got dibs on it.”
“Dibs? What the hell does ‘dibs’ mean?”
“It means another robber has already spoken for this money.”
He looked at me carefully. “You’re crazy, man. You really are. But that don’t mean I won’t shoot you.”
“And there’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“I can’t remember my pin number.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s true. That’s why I’ve been standing here. My mind’s a blank.”
“You gotta relax, man.”
“I know that. But it’s kind of hard. You’ve got a gun and so does the other guy.”
“There’s really some other dude holdin’ your old lady?”
“Right.”
He grinned with exceedingly bad teeth. “You got yourself a real problem, dude.”
I closed my eyes.
I must have spent my five minutes already.
Would he really kill Laura?
“You tried deep breathin’?”
“Yeah.”
“And that didn’t work?”
“Huh-uh.”
“You tried makin’ your mind go blank for a little bit?”
“That didn’t work, either.”
He pushed the gun right into my face. “I ain’t got much time, man.”
“I can’t give you the money, anyway.”
“You ain’t gonna be much use to your old lady if you got six or seven bullet holes in you.”
“God!”
“What’s wrong?”
My pin number had popped into my head.
Nothing like a gun in your face to jog your memory.
I dove for the ATM machine.
And started punching buttons.
The right buttons.
“Listen,” I said as I cranked away, “I really can’t give you this money.”
“Right.”
“I mean, I would if I could but the guy would never believe me if I told him some other crook had taken it. No offense, ‘crook’ I mean.”
“Here it comes.”
“I’m serious. You can’t have it.”
“Pretty, pretty Yankee dollars. Praise the Lord.”
The plastic cover opened and the machine began spitting out green Yankee dollars.
And that’s when he slugged me on the back of the head.
The guy back in the car had hit me but it had been nothing like this.
This time, the field of black floating in front of my eyes didn’t even have stars. This time, hot shooting pain traveled from the point of impact near the top of my skull all the way down into my neck and shoulders. This time, my knees gave out immediately.
Pavement. Hard. Wet. Smelling of cold rain. And still the darkness. Total darkness. I had a moment of panic. Had I been blinded for life? I wanted to be angry but I was too disoriented. Pain. Cold. Darkness.
And then I felt his hands tearing the money from mine.
I had to hold on to it. Had to. Otherwise Laura would be injured. Or killed.
The kick landed hard just above my sternum. Stars suddenly appeared in the field of black. His foot seemed to have jarred them loose.
More pain. But now there was anger. I blindly lashed out and grabbed his trouser leg, clung to it, forcing him to drag me down the sidewalk as he tried to get away. I don’t know how many names I called him, some of them probably didn’t even make sense, I just clung to his leg, exulting in his rage, in his inability to get rid of me.
Then he leaned down and grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled so hard I screamed. And inadvertently let go of his leg.
And then I heard his footsteps, retreating, retreating, and felt the rain start slashing at me again. He had dragged me out from beneath the protection of the ATM overhang.
I struggled to get up. It wasn’t easy. I still couldn’t see. And every time I tried to stand, I was overcome by dizziness and a faint nausea.
But I kept thinking of Laura. And kept pushing myself to my feet, no matter how much pain pounded in my head, no matter how I started to pitch forward and collapse again.
By the time I got to my feet, and fell against the rough brick of the building for support, my eyesight was back. Funny how much you take it for granted. It’s terrifying when it’s gone.
I looked at the oasis of light in the gloom. At the foot of the ATM was my bank card. I wobbled over and picked it up. I knew that I’d taken out my allotted amount for the day but I decided to try and see if the cosmic forces were with me for once.
They weren’t.
The only thing I got from the machine was a snotty little note saying that I’d have to contact my personal banker if I wanted to receive more money.
A) I had no idea who this personal banker was, and
B) I doubted if he would be happy if I called him at home on such a rainy night even if I did have his name and number.
Then I did what any red-blooded American would do. I started kicking the machine. Kicking hard. Kicking obsessively. Until my toes started to hurt.