The Forgotten Man

April 3rd

It was in the afternoon of April third that we met. I had been working at the Business Bank of Trade for nearly two years now, my job as a teller made a little bit easier by my unique abilities.

That day, like every other, saw only a thin sprinkling of traffic in the afternoon. And so I was leaning against the counter, trading a few quick jokes with a regular while sorting through his information.

It's about that time that you entered and stared around the bank, eyes wide and back slightly hunched. I finished taking care of my last client and kept an eye on you, if only because you were suspicious.

An older couple was at the ATM. A cute husband and wife pair that made their way hand-in-hand to the bank every few weeks were using the machine. He was retired and she liked stuffing the grandkids full of candy and presents behind their parent's back. You shuffled your way up behind them and stood shifting your weight from foot to foot, waiting for them to finish.

I was distracted by the next client, but kept the corner of my eye on you as you finally stepped up to the machine and inserted a card. A moment later you were grumbling and glaring at the ATM.

It didn't take much for you to rip your card out and make your way to my counter, red in the face as you waited behind my latest client. Our eyes met for a second and you looked away, blushing.

My last client left with a quick, inattentive smile and almost ran into you before you sidestepped around her. "May I help you, sir?" I asked.

You bit your lower lip, face still flushed. "Hi, I'd like to make a withdrawal. Your machine glitched after I entered my pin."

I smiled at you. "That happens. Don't worry. Can I have your card, please? And a piece of ID?"

You gave me what I asked for, while moving around as though trying to keep eye contact the entire time. I didn't mind it much. We received our fair share of odd customers and you were a bit cuter than most.

"Hmm, your card seems to be broken," I said, as the screen before me flashed a data reading error. But your ID checks out. Here." I passed you a card-swiping device. "Enter your pin, please."

You did as I had asked, swallowing hard as time ticked on and the machine made its quick calculations. "And there you go!" I said. "How much did you need?"

You told me the amount and watched as I counted out the bills and laid them in front of me. When I finished, I looked up. "Will that be all?"

"Yeah, thanks," you said. "I'm going to buy a camera, to see if it remembers me." You froze, as though realizing how silly you sounded. "Um, you know, for taking pictures and stuff.... Sorry."

Turning you began to leave, my eyes boring into your back until my attention was stolen by two men who were walking in.

Their faces were covered in ski masks and both totted large, seemingly empty bags in their off hand. The one at the fore had a revolver which he pointed right at the elderly couple, shamelessly poking the older woman in the ribs with the gun's barrel.

"Alright, everybody down. We're gonna do this nice and smooth-like, okay?" the second man said as he walked around his partner and to the bank's centre. He pointed a jagged-edged knife at me. "Don't press no buttons, lady. No heroics. This place has got insurance for a reason. We'll take what we need and be out."

I raised my hands up to my shoulders without really wanting to. Swallowing with a dry throat, I took a half-step back and tried to repeat all the steps they had told us in preparation of this sort of event. None came to mind.

His eyes passed right by me, as though I wasn't standing there atop a pair of shaking legs. With a few long strides, the man walked up to the counter and tossed the bag he held onto the marble surface. He faced you, glaring as he waved you aside. "Move it," he barked before turning his attention back to the fore. Then he looked at you again and repeated the motion. "Move it."