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No Option Left
Copyright 1987 by G. Daniel Flower, All Rights Reserved.
Comments on this
story may be directed to Sparks in the Email or General message
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No Option Left
by G. Daniel Flower
Before you say anything, I know what I did was wrong. I
freely admit that. Can I but wish that it had never happened.
Unfortunately, the hands of time continue to move forward,
turning back for no man.
I am not a criminal, you know that. Sure, there were the
few shoplifting incidents when I was younger, but Susan had seen
me one day. Needless to say, you were hardly amused by the
situation.
Other than that I only have a few traffic tickets on my
record. Up until now I have been proud of that fact.
It is amazing what a man will do when his back is against
the wall. I could have lived with paying six hundred dollars a
month in child support; I could have lived with the three
hundred dollar reduction in salary due to that transfer; I could
have lived with the forclosure of the house (after all, I wasn't
living there anymore because of the transfer).
But I couldn't live with the fact that Loretta moved back
with her parents because she wanted to get a college degree, and
I couldn't help her.
I know that it is passe these days for a man to feel as if
he has to be the sole bread winner in a family, but not being
able to afford to give Loretta what she wanted really hurt. The
least I could have done would be to take care of the bills so
she could put her salary towards her degree.
Here we were, scrimping and saving to makie ends meet, and
not even married yet. I only wanted the best for her. I tried to
remain cheerful and supportive when she told me what her plan
was. I even tried to make it work for a couple of months.
But again, money problems entered the picture. I just
didn't have the money to see her every weekend. Lonliness set
in.
Things probably would have stayed the same, going to see
her when I could, just getting by, if I hadn't had that crazy
idea.
I never would have had the idea if I hadn't gone to the ATM
machine that day. It wasn't a machine I normally use. I try to
use the one at my bank. I was at the mall and needed some money
for gas, so I decided I'd use the machine at the mall and get
gas on the way home.
Anyway, while I was making my withdrawal they came to fill
the machine. I'd always wondered how they did it, and now I
knew.
The idea didn't come to me right away, at least not to my
conscious mind. It wasn't until I was home that the lightning
struck. I was looking at my bills, wondering how I was going to
pay them, when the thought came to me.
Why not ambush the team that fills the ATM machines?
I argued with myself for days, and needless to say it was
an argument that I lost.
The plan was simplicity in itself. Wait by the machine
until they came to fill it and then take the money. All I needed
was a gun and a time schedule for when the filled the machines.
Two people had filled the machine that day at the mall. One
carried a brief case and the other was an armed, uniformed
guard. I figured that if I got the drop on them there would be
no problem.
I went to a gun shop and bought a .380 Baretta
Semi-automatic. I'd used one before and it fit the bill nicely.
It was small and light weight, but looked ugly enough to get
someone's attention. I didn't bother to try to use an alias, I
wasn't planning on using it. If it came to that I'd hightail it
out of there and think of something else.
It took ten days to get the gun, because the police had to
do a check on me to make sure I wasn't an ex-con or something.
While I waited for the gun I watched the ATM machine.
I decided to go with the machine at the mall. It was
located near a side exit, and that end of the mall wasn't too
busy during the day. I wasn't in a hurry and could wait until
there weren't too many people nearby. I discovered that they
came every other day to fill the machine, and that they came at
the same time.
The gun was ready the day the shop keeper had promised. I
went in and tested it out on the indoor range, more because it
was expected of me than anything else. I was finally ready.
I went to the mall and waited. I made sure that I had used
a different location to watch from everyday so that I wouldn't
attract attention. My opportunity came on the third visit.
There was no one near the machine, and I had to time it so
that I arrived at the machine before the person with the brief
case went into the service area in the back to fill the machine.
It went just like I planned, neither one made a fuss when I
showed them the gun. I took the guard's gun and had them face
the wall. I told them I'd kill them if they made a sound, and to
count to two hundred before moving.
I was shaking as I drove away. I'd never been that scared.
I started shaking again after I counted the money. $85,000. Not
bad for a day's work, and more than enough to put Loretta
through college.
She caught a ride up with one of her friends today, in
order to spend the weekend with me. I bought some nice steaks
and a bottle of wine. After we'd eaten, I explained what I'd
done, and why. I'd thought about what I'd say to her to explain
my sudden windfall, and decided to tell her the truth. I can't
lie to her.
I really though she'd be happy, but she wasn't. She called
me a scum, and a few other choice explatives. She told me I had
to turn myself in, or she'd do it herself.
I guess I lost my head. After all, I had done it for us, so
we could be together. She had no reason to be so mad. I hit her.
She fell and hit her head on the table.
It didn't take me long to sober up after that. She was
dead. I couldn't believe it. I picked her up and carried her
into the bedroom. I laid her gently in the bed and looked at her
for what seems hours, but what was probably closer to five
minutes.
Then I sat down and wrote this to you. There's not much
left to do, Mom. I'll call the police first, of course. I don't
want us to be found in a few days, and I don't know if the
neighbhors will hear the shot from the .380.
I guess there's nothing left to say, except I'm sorry. Give
my love to everyone for me.
Your Loving Son
Greg
Copyright 1987 by G. Daniel Flower, All Rights Reserved.