Recent Entries to this Blog
Okay, moving away from gardening back into a short story. This particular story is "open ended", meaning the ending is left open for the reader to interpret. I would really be interested to know what some of you think might have happened next.
Vince glanced at his ATM receipt and did a double take. He stared at it positive that he must have read it wrong, but the balance still read the same: $75,137.17. With a shaky hand he quickly put his card back into the machine. From behind him an irritated voice called out, "Come on Dude."
Vince turned to see a teenage boy in a blue t-shirt and baggy, faded jeans with a black cap sitting on his head so the bill was turned sideways. He started to apologize, but changed his mind simply because of the hat. He always hated it when guys wore their hat sideways, thought it made them look stupid. Vince turned back toward the ATM without saying a word.
He punched in his PIN number and then made his way to CHECKING ACCOUNT BALANCE. He chose to view it on the screen and waited for the display. After a few seconds the screen confirmed his account balance: $75,137.17. His mind was racing. There was obviously a mistake. He had no doubt that the hundred dollars was his, but somehow an additional seventy five thousand had been deposited into his account. He stared at the screen, dumbfounded, until the teenager spoke up once again, "Hey old man, can you hurry it up?"
Vince came out of his stupor. Old man? Did he just call me an old man? Vince was forty five years old and in good physical shape; made that way from years of working road construction. His skin was deeply tanned from the sun and a full head of sandy blonde hair hung down to his shoulders. His muscles were hard and lean and, despite the comment from the teenager, there was nothing in his six foot frame that looked like an old man. He tapped the screen to finish his transaction and retrieved his card. He turned away from the ATM and walked toward the teenager who was already making his way up the ramp. When they drew close to one another the teenager muttered, "It's about time."
On the way by Vince bumped him, giving a solid push with his shoulder. The boy tumbled and caught the metal handrail in the square of his stomach, causing him to double over. The violent jerk caused his hat to fly off and Vince chuckled when it landed in a small mud puddle. The boy recovered quickly and yelled after Vince. Vince continued to walk away at a leisurely pace. Without even looking back he said, "Looks like you could use a new hat."
Then, with a satisfied grin on his face, he headed to his truck.
Before he even got into the driver's seat his mind was back on the seventy five thousand dollars. Where did it come from? The bank had made a mistake, he was certain of that. However, it was in his account. What would happen if he withdrew it? Wasn't there something about possession being nine tenths of the law? Could he even withdraw that much money at once? He didn't know. He had never withdrawn more than a couple of hundred dollars at the time. Come to think of it, he never even had more than a couple of hundred dollars at the time. Every paycheck seemed to be already spent before he even got it and spare cash was a commodity that he seldom had the luxury of. Seventy five thousand dollars. That's a lot of money.
A movement caught his eye and he spotted the teenager in front of his truck. He was walking with his head down, staring at the soaked cap in his hands. He looked up, saw Vince and gave him the finger. Vince jerked his door open and made like he was going to jump out. The boy took off running, pushing down on a remote unlock as he fled the scene. He ran past a tall van and disappeared on the other side of it.
A few seconds later there was a squeal of tires and Vince caught sight of a car in his rear view mirror. It was a red Ford Mustang. There was a large white racing stripe across the hood and the windows were tinted black. It stopped directly behind him with its passenger side facing his truck and sat there a moment, engine revving up and down. Then, the tires started spinning, but the driver held onto the brake and a large cloud of smoke rose up and drifted right over Vince's truck. The driver took his foot off the brake and left the parking lot, squealing his tires all the way onto the main highway. He turned left and drove back by the bank. As he went by the teenager rolled down his window and, through the smoke, Vince could see the smirk on his faceâ€¦ and the wet hat sitting sideways on his head.
Vince shook his head as the smell of burnt rubber lingered in his nostrils. How do kids get cars like that anyways? He glanced around at his own vehicle, a ten year old Chevy S-10 pickup. It was a good truck, but it was getting old and had well over 150,000 miles on it. The headliner was starting to sag and there were a few cracks in the dash. He thought about getting a newer truck plenty of times, but there just wasn't enough money. After the divorce, there never seemed to be enough money. He survived from paycheck to paycheck, barely scraping by and, to be honest, he was pretty tired of it.
A small band of onlookers had rushed outside to see what was going on. They stopped gawking after the speeding Mustang and slowly made their way back inside the bank. Vince sat in his truck, staring at nothing in particular. Seventy five thousand dollars. That's a lot of money.
The sound of passing cars filled his ears. Somewhere, a bird chirped happily. Seventy five thousand dollars.
Suddenly, Vince knew what he was going to do. With a new found confidence he opened the door, stepped out and walked toward the bank.
Last edited: Sun Apr 17, 2016 1:30 pm
This blog entry has been viewed 121 times
You're reading one of many blogs on GardenStew.com.
Register for free and start your own blog today.
This is great EG. I really wonder where that money came from. I assume a bank error but I doubt the main protagonist will withdraw any as he seems like a decent guy.