He grabbed his jacket, leather, the kind with the tassels on the arms, although there were a few missing, he used to give them to girls he met at bars as a sign of his affection. He knew that by wearing normal clothes then he would arouse less suspicion upon entry into the bank, and besides it was a damn fine jacket. He threw it on the unmade bed and grabbed his clothes from on the floor, tidiness not being his strong point; he put on his jeans, which were freshly morning cold, bar the smell of smoked tobacco, and his Iron Maiden T-shirt, which he has had for as long as he could care to remember. He went into the toilet, and slicked his hair back. Afterwards he carelessly strolled out of his room, it was 9:50. He was meant to rendezvous with Alex, his partner in the heist in McDonalds at 10am. Samus walked past the large Mexican who owned the establishment and tossed him the room key He walked out the door, the sky was blue and cars flew past him two and fro He walked round to his car, and as he reached for his keys he realised that he had left his jacket in his room, turning round he walked back into the motel.
He pressed his fingers on the front desk.
“Excuse me,”…“Excuse me.”
“Huh?”
“I left my jacket in my room can I have the key?”
Slowly the Mexican stood up, and dusted fragments of crisps from his shirt, he then walked over towards where the keys hung
“Number?”
“err 7”
“Lucky eh?”
He took the key and walked round to room number seven inserted the key and turned it…
”It wasn’t even locked”
“Sorry”
Samus walked in, grabbed his jacket and walked out, the Mexican closed the door behind him and locked it and for the second time that same day Samus exited the motel. He got into his car and rolled up a cigarette, lit up and smoked it on the way to his rendezvous.
Alex was already there, considerably better dressed than Samus, wearing a black suit with no hat. Samus got out of his car and walked into the restaurant. Greeted by the smell of McDonalds, he ordered a cheeseburger.
“Have a nice day”
“Thank you”
He took his food to where Alex was sitting,
“Hello my friend”
Alex was eating a paltry breakfast, Samus sat down and unwrapped his burger. He lifted it up to his mouth and took a large bite, savouring the manufactured taste as he had for every other one of the hundreds or so that he had already eaten in his life, this one was the same as every other that he had eaten, but its flavour brought back memories of the first time he had met Alex, it was here in this McDonalds, Alex had been just as well dressed as he was today. They had arranged the meeting after a mutual friend proposed the idea of the heist As far as their friend was concerned their partnership was for this job only and neither would need to ever meet again. Despite this Samus pressed hard to develop a friendship between himself and Alex, yet Alex seemed more interested in keeping their relationship on a more professional level.
Alex took a break from his drink
“After this we make the move?”
“Yeah sure,”
“Alright then”
Conversation was limited by the fact that Samus was so gripped with excitement, nervousness and spirit that he could barely manage even the simplest answer. Alex finished his breakfast and got up, still drinking his beverage as he walked out the door. They both got into Samus’s car; Alex had got a taxi there. Samus rolled himself another cigarette and put it on the dashboard. Reaching behind him he prodded around on the backseat grabbing one of his many nameless homemade rock compilations. He thrust it into the radio, the sound of heavy metal poured from the cars speakers, not at all clear, but with a loud background hiss and muted drums.
Samus began to drive for the bank and got there in no time. He was the getaway driver and therefore remained in the car while Alex who took a large rucksack and a gun into the bank with him.
After Samus had waited for about three songs, Alex returned and had the bag filled with cash, and the gun tucked into his waist, not needing to say anything Samus drove towards a safe house out of town, he felt the rush of victory, success he thought, it intoxicated him but he still managed to drive. Into the country, and no sign of police yet, but through the music, Samus could hear noises, whispers; inside the car, Alex had not said a word at all, yet the whispers were there, he could hear them in his head,
“…Take”
It came from where Alex was seated, on his lap, inside the bag, it was in there, and it wanted Samus to take it for himself. It spoke and Samus knew what to do. In his delirious state he deciphered what it said. Half on purpose, half by accident and by order of the bag he slammed on his breaks and swerved for a tree that lay by the side of the road.
Samus regained consciousness around him was blue and grey, the clouded sky hung above him as frayed as his sanity. In his left hand was the bag full of money and in his right hand was the gun. He looked for Alex. Alex was dead. Thoughts flickered in Samus’s mind. Police. Money. Success. Failure. Death. Then he began to understand and reality hit him like a shot in the head, stealing the money had gained him nothing, he was still Samus, he still had no friends, he wasn’t a success, he had failed. He now knew that money didn’t measure success and that it only corrupts, like it had corrupted him. His American dream had become an American nightmare, he heard police sirens, his time was up, he raised his arms, and then let the bag go, it hit the floor, he put the gun up to his head, and pulled the trigger, the money tumbled onto the road. It was stained though; stained red, stained with blood, stained with greed.
