The Heist

I was still shocked about what the nurse, Farah, had said to me. She knows what I am going through? I kind of doubted that. But, who knew? It’s not like I actually knew the woman, or had personal connections to her.

We all say we’ll put our ‘children of rape’ up for adoption.

Her words rang in my mind. Well, okay, those weren’t her exact words, but it’s like that’s what she was saying. At least, I think so. What does that mean?

RING, RING went the telephone.

I answered on the fourth ring after checking the caller ID, “Hi, Dad.”

“Hey, Ash, how’s my girl?” He asked in his alarmed voice. Oh, dear, he must know something.

I told him that I was fine and that he had nothing to worry about. He responded by telling me that he had heard different.

“What does that mean, Father?” Jonathan had to have told him something.

“Nothing, Ashlee, I was just calling to ask how you were.” Right. Because he calls all the time just to see how I am. That has never happened.

We talked for a while; I didn’t even hint at my “issue.” After forty-five minutes, he seemed to have given up and said that he had to go.

When I next get my hands on Jon, I’m going to kill him. Well, not literally of course.

*~*~*~*

{Next day}

Oh, joy, it’s the morning. It was a beautiful day. The bright yellow sun was shining bright, and there was not a cloud in the sky, which was highly unusual.

I promised Charles that I’d go to the police station with him today, so he could talk about the mini-accident the other day. If they found him at fault, he’d have to pay over two thousand dollars, just for the other guy’s car.

I showered, got dressed, brushed my hair and teeth, and left. Charles is sure damn lucky I’m not a girl. If I was, it would have taken me, like, four more hours. I laughed to myself as I walked into the station. A few people looked at me. Why did I always have to bring attention to myself?

That Jonathan Miller guy was there, as well. He was dressed in some richy-rich outfit, fit for some kind of model or actor. Charles, who was standing next to Miller, seemed to be dressed nicely as well. All I was wearing was some worn out blue jeans and a white graphic tee shirt that said “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.”

“Like I said, Mister Miller and Mister Banfield, we still don’t know whose fault the accident was.”

I got a good view of Miller’s face. Yep, he sure as hell looked like his father. There was no doubt in my mind of who he was. I wanted to be loyal to my friend, but I also kind of wanted to help out the guy whose father helped me out.

“Look, officer. How about we just don’t bother trying to figure it out. I’m sure each of them can pay for their own deductibles.”

“I can,” Charles agreed.

“As can I.”

“Good, then,” I replied.

“Gentlemen, we still have to figure it out,” the cop pointed out.

“I mean no disrespect, officer,” Jonathan Miller began, “but I want my car fixed as soon as possible, and I’m sure Mister Banfield, here, does as well. I’m sure we can fix our cars, and then you can still figure it out, you have pictures, and then we’ll exchange the money civilly.”

“Mister Miller, I don’t think that’s appropriate,” the cop went on and on.

“Look, my father is a lawyer. Banfield and I can sign contracts to say we’ll exchange the cash when it’s all figured out, and you can put what ever the results turn out to be on our records. We’ll do it quickly and civilly.”

“Officer, I agree with Mister Miller. I don’t want it to drag on. I can pay for my repairs. I want my car fixed.”

The cop debated for a while, and then went to look for his superior. He was a chubby, bald-headed man in a uniform that looked slightly tighter than one he should wear. His name was Kingston. Manuel Kingston.

Oh, great, I thought. It’s the guy that arrested me.

He seemed to recognize me as well, as he greeted me, “Mister Erik Neufeld. How great to see you.” He was very sarcastic.

Miller looked up at my name, as if he had recognized it but couldn’t place it.

“Well, men, we’ve talked it over,” said Kingston, “and we’ve decided it wouldn’t be fair.”

“Why the hell not?” Charles shouted, a little more loudly than he should have.

“Because, Mister Banfield. It’s just not. We’ve made our decision, now please leave.”

As the three of us walked out at the same time, I heard Miller and Banfield utter the same word under their breath, “Asshole.” All three of us laughed.

“Have a good day, Mister Banfield,” Miller said.

“You as well, Mister Miller.” They both seemed to be mocking the officers. As Jonathan walked away, I told Charles that I had known the police officer, Kingston. Charles looked confused, he didn’t know about my stint at the pen.

~*~*~*~

Jonathan was late, as usual. Why couldn’t the guy be more punctual? He was supposed to be here a half hour ago.

As I was dusting my antique tables, I heard a knock on my door. I answered it. Oh, good, Jon was finally here.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said as he entered. “I had to go to the police station about that accident.”

I immediately laid into him, “Did you tell Dad?”

Jon gave his most innocent looking face, “Tell him what?”

At least I had my answer and I wouldn’t have to push any further. Jon seemed to have a penchant for lying. He had told our father, I knew he had, but he wasn’t going to tell me anything about it.

“So, what are you going to do?” Jonathan asked after a few moments of silence on both our ends.

I didn’t have to ask about what. “There’s a rather good adopt—”

He interrupted me, “you’re putting the kid up for adoption?” He seemed to be gratuitously angry.

“Do you have a problem with that?” I asked. He said he did, with a frown on his face. I then inquired as to whether or not he preferred abortion. He replied with the answer I knew he would: no.

I proceeded to explain my plans for the child’s future. I would set up a bank account in the child’s name, for their future financial needs, such as the incredibly expensive college tuition. Whether or not the child attended college was his or her choice. The child would be the only one who could access this money, unless something terrible happened. Plus, the parents wouldn’t know about it, until the time came that it be used.

Jonathan seemed to think that this idea of mine was creative, yet unnecessary. I had to agree with him, but I wanted the very best for the child that I would never know.

After Jonathan left, I called the bank to make an appointment to speak with someone. They told me to come in the following Thursday; it was the only time they had a possibility of someone being available. The woman on the phone told me to wait on one of the couches until one of the employees called my name.

*~*~*~*

“How’s the plan coming along, Erik?” My sister, Elizabeth asked me.

I ran a hand through my messy hair, “Plans are going great. We should be able to follow through by next Thursday.”

“Why so late?”

“Well, the plans will be complete soon, but we have to talk with the guys, and make sure everyone knows what the hell they’re doing.”

Elizabeth put a hand on her hip and sighed. “I understand.” She then proceeded to walk away, leaving me alone in the darkening room.

The plans will be put through next Thursday. Then I can prove my innocence.