FOUR BAD
(Comments & suggestions welcome below)
Chapter 1
The fate of his eleven million dollar stash was worrisome to convicted bank robber Buck Branson. He paced the cold hard cement floor of his one man cell in San Quentin, stopped to cross another day off on his calendar: December 17, 2014. “One thousand eight hundred eighty-three days to go.”
The walls boasted various mementos of his “free” life including a picture of his petite trophy wife, Jennifer. Buck would often unconsciously shake his head slowly, chin down, eyes cast upward as he paused to gaze at her picture, cross his heart and mournfully repeat, “God rest her soul.”
The Feds were hot after Buck’s sons and the money. The twins now had control of the proceeds from Buck’s three bank robberies, millions of dollars… in cash.
The first robbery precipitated Buck’s estrangement from his idolized Jennifer, and the last was responsible for Buck’s current happenstance.
Early on, Buck had not been able to keep a job, and always had a problem supporting his family. None of his get rich schemes ever seemed to pan out; that is, until he robbed the First National Bank. He was proud of his accomplishments as a bank robber. Three bank robberies brought riches… but also prison.
Jennifer had been furious about that first bank robbery. She loved Buck, but didn’t like the example he was setting for the twins. She didn’t want her husband in jail, or dead.
Finally, after a splendid dinner at their favorite night spot and more than a few drinks, Buck promised his Jennifer that he would never rob a bank, or anything else, ever again. Buck knew he didn’t mean it when he made that promise; he was already planning his second bank robbery.
Buck had found his calling; he was a successful bank robber, and had schooled the son who had lived with him after his separation from Jennifer in the hopes that he would follow in his footsteps. He wanted at least one of his sons to lead a successful and profitable life of crime; preferably robbing banks.
Both sons left California sporting their new identities. Brad wandered around Florida until he was accepted at Florida State University. Daryl, on the other hand, went straight to Georgia State. They were living comfortable lifestyles on Buck’s millions.
Brad, the dominate twin, occasionally communicated with Buck, but only through a complicated web of re-mailing arrangements. The Feds knew the twins had the loot, and were determined to capture them.
Brad and Daryl were not identical twins, and since Brad looked so much like Buck, he was Buck’s favorite. Daryl favored his mother’s personality, but since her passing, and their father’s incarceration, he was often overshadowed by his big brother’s dominating personality. Twins they were, but Brad often referred to Daryl as “Little Brother” because he was born three hours after Brad. Daryl didn’t realize that his brother had suggested Daryl as an alias in commemoration of the two dumb brothers both named Daryl in the 80’s hit TV sitcom, The Newhart Show.
The twins, to establish a family legacy, were ready to embark on their own bank robbing spree.
Chapter 2
After Buck’s second successful bank robbery and because of his broken promise, Jennifer left him. Buck took Brad, his look-alike son, to live with him. Daryl stayed with Jennifer. Despite the millions from the two bank robberies… no one was happy.
The twins lived very different lives; nonetheless, they shared a symbiotic relationship, “a twinness,” which let them communicate in ways enjoyed only by twins. No matter the distance apart, if one was in trouble, the other somehow knew it.
The boys were in their early twenties and good looking, Brad in a rougher, more masculine way; he constantly worked out. Both had very blond hair, enjoyed the beach, and were proud of their deep tans. Brad had a recent tattoo of a devil, pitchfork and all, on his upper left arm. Daryl had acquiesced to have a matching one done, but had not yet complied. You wouldn’t suspect them of being twins to look at them side by side.
Today Buck’s pacing was a little more animated. In a little while he would be on the yard and he expected to hear from Brad. The heat from the Feds was intense so Brad was very meticulous in his communications with Buck. Millions of dollars were at stake! On the third Monday of every third month Brad would start a letter on its convoluted journey to his father. Buck lived for the day he got that letter, and he looked forward to getting himself lost and living well on the stash which would hopefully be even bigger when Brad’s life of crime succeeded.
How much of his loot would still be there when he got out? Would his life as a free man indeed be glorious? This puzzle kept visiting Buck in his quiet moments.
Today, Buck smiled to himself as he paced his cell and fought to keep his quick pacing from attracting the guard’s attention. All day long the same thought kept bouncing around in his head:News from Brad is on the way!
Chapter 3
Brad felt a real connection with Buck although he had never called him “Dad.” As a kid in school it had always been “Buck.” A continent now separated them, but when he closed his eyes Brad could picture Buck pacing his cell. He read, and reread, his copy of the cryptic note his Dad would receive today.
The proceeds of all three of Buck’s bank robberies were right here in Brad’s office, at least everything he hadn’t spent or given to Daryl – Daryl didn’t get much. He had laundered a good bit and thus had a substantial bank account.
Brad was proud of his office, at least that is what he called it. His office was in a secret and very unusual place. When in his office, Brad was in his own, small, isolated world. Here he gloated on his father’s success and planned in minute detail his own bank robberies. He would definitely make Buck proud. No one else in the world would know who the bank robber was, but Buck would know it was his number one son as soon as he heard about it on the national news. Buck would know for sure, Brad was positive of that.
Three bank robberies in six years. That was Buck’s record. Buck only got caught once. Now, Brad was in the final stages of a very intricate plan to rob three Tallahassee banks with a very unique twist. All in the same day…within minutes of each other, and another place or two along with the banks. The banks because they are banks, but the others because they had pissed him off for some reason, and they would, to his way of thinking, just naturally have to pay.
It had taken Brad a long time to sort and count all the money that had not been banded and then arrange all the denominations in neat stacks in two bureaus, side by side, along the wall opposite his desk.
Brad really liked being near cash money, especially this money. He would sometimes just take a bureau drawer and dump it out on his desk and enjoy recounting and restacking everything.
The desk sported a computer with the absolute newest technology which allowed him to dabble in the stock market, and kept him occupied when he was not in class at Florida State.
Brad had no problem with his studies. He had always gotten high grades all the way through high school and now college studies were no challenge to him either.
He chose a stunning co-ed, Carol, for a gal-pal and had contrived to move in with her. He figured that would eliminate the possibility of being tracked by utility records if the Feds discovered his identity or location. Brad possessed an extreme confidence in his ability to circumvent any authority and manipulate any situation to his pleasure. He was a master of assuming any demeanor which suited the current situation. He could be gentlemanly, mannerly, abrupt, abrasive, condescending, conversational, a listener, or a confidant, whatever was necessary to accomplish his goal; he was self-centered and cocky.
Brad nodded his head slightly in approval, just like Buck would. He stood with pride and awe surveying his personally constructed domain. He wished he hadn’t promised Carol to pick up her sister, Leslie, at the airport. He really needed to be on the road to Atlanta for a meeting with his brother. Daryl’s help was necessary in his grand bank robbery scheme, and Daryl was wavering. Living with Mom had made him soft.
Brad had planned today’s trip to Atlanta so he could bring Daryl in line once and for all. He had a plan, a big joke that was sure to shock Daryl, and also be kind of a dress rehearsal for his Christmas Season bank robberies.
Brad had never met Leslie, but he already knew he wouldn’t like her.
Chapter 4
The airport was about three miles from Brad’s office around Capitol Circle. He stopped at Glen’s gas station at the intersection of Blountstown Highway for a pack of smokes, but mostly to flirt with Glen’s daughter at the register.
Brad pulled into the taxi lane at the airport, parked, got out, and leaned against the passenger side front fender with his arms crossed. He, and his illegally parked car, were very much out of place, and he got some gruff looks, but no one challenged him. Then he saw her.
“Carol said I would recognize you, but she didn’t say you two were twins.
Long, long, very blond wavy hair fell freely over what you could tell was a blouse full of softness. A pair of long shapely legs were hidden by a long skirt you would never catch her twin sister, Carol, wearing. She had a very feminine stride which would naturally attract attention. A complete package she was, indeed.
Leslie had to open the door for herself because Brad casually walked around the car, keeping a steady eye on her, paused, and slid in behind the wheel. It was quiet in the car. They each had their own private thoughts. Brad navigated the short way out of the airport and onto the truck route which circles Tallahassee and is named, quite appropriately, Capitol Circle.
Suddenly Leslie’s whole body tensed up. Not a word had been spoken, but she heard something she had never before heard. Brad was deep in thought.
“I heard what you thought. I mean… I mean…”
“What? You heard what I thought? What kind of nut are you anyway?”
“I mean…” Leslie was stammering; her thoughts were racing.
What’s going on here? I heard what he thought. He robbed a bank. But that can’t be!
“I mean… I mean… A penny for your thoughts. Yeah, a penny for your thoughts!”
Hope that satisfies him.
“Oh…For a minute there I thought you were some kind of a nut job.” They both laughed and Leslie let her long blond hair drift forward to hide her face as she leaned forward and patted the dash in jest. Then all was quiet again until Brad pulled up to a stop light. They again caught each other’s eye with a side glance and both bubbled into another laugh. Leslie’s mind was whirling a mile a minute and was in a far different place than Brad’s.
I know what I heard, I heard what he thought. He robbed a bank, or at least he was thinking about robbing a bank… with his…his father.
Leslie scratched her head, which really didn’t need scratching.
But no one can hear someone else’s thoughts… can they? Can I?
Is there such a thing? I never heard of such a thing.
I can still hear him thinking… now he’s thinking how much me and Carol look alike.
Leslie caught a glimpse of a mischievous smile as it crossed Brad’s face.
He’s wondering if twins kiss alike and if we would be the same in bed. That’s a terrible thing to think.Now he’s got me wondering.
I gotta change the subject til I can think this out. Wonder if Carol can hear what he thinks.
“You and Carol gonna party tonight?”
“She might, but I’m goin to Atlanta… gotta see my brother.”
“Oh? I live in Atlanta. What’s his name? I might know him.”
Never happen… but at least it’s a different subject.
“Not a chance,” Brad declared, shaking his head emphatically. “Atlanta’s a big place, ya know, and he isn’t much on socializing.”
“Well, Carol’s the socializer in our family, for sure. She takes after Mom. I must confess, I’m not much on the fast life myself. What’s his name?”
Brad seemed to be unwilling to divulge his brother’s name and that bothered Leslie.
Maybe he don’t even have a brother and maybe he ain’t going to Atlanta either. Oh… yes, he is; and his brother’s name is Daniel, or something like that.
Leslie didn’t catch the name and pushed for an answer. “Come on now, what’s his name?
His name’s Darrrrlll.” Brad slurred indistinguishably. “You satisfied? What you so interested for anyhow?”
Close to Daniel… maybe… His thoughts are confusing.
“Now, see there; I know a Daryl! And he owns a Cadillac just like this one.” Leslie patted the seat between them. “I just want to know all about Carol’s boyfriend and his family. So there!”
Brad was puzzled as to just how Leslie came up with “Daryl”… actually his brother’s name, and Daryl had a black Cadillac, a twin to the one they were in right now.
“You Carol’s sister… or her momma?”
He’s got a lot of nerve. He must know we lost Mom and Dad last year. No respect.
The rest of the trip across town was a rather quiet one with only a little banter back and forth. Leslie had to brush Brad’s hand from her knee more than once.
Leslie was relieved when they finally pulled into Hooters parking lot.
Brad slammed the car door a little too hard and let out a condescending laugh as he caught up with Leslie.
“You treat that Cadillac a little rough, don’t ya?
He locked his arm around her neck, and pulled her to him.
“Get off me, man… I’m Leslie ya know… not Carol,” Leslie gave him a hard elbow in the ribs as Carol came running toward them, still in her short-shorts and hand-tied tee shirt Hooter’s uniform.
I don’t hear him thinking any more. What kind of connection do we have? I don’t like anything that’s going on here.
Chapter 5
The girls hadn’t seen each other since the funeral. Their mom and dad had been separated for a long time. Carol lived with Mrs. Cartridge, and Leslie had gone to live with Ben, their father.
Mrs. Cartridge, Beth, was a very free-minded party girl and let Carol do most anything she wanted, while Ben held a tight rein on Leslie and she led a much more sheltered life.
Ben and Beth had decided to try reconciliation now that the twins were off to college and when their private plane crashed, they were both killed. Naturally, Leslie was conservative with her share of the inheritance while Carol was extravagant beyond reason. Carol bought, outright, a condo in Harbin Estates and easily surpassed her mother’s party girl lifestyle. She enjoyed her job at Hooters and her partying a lot more than her studies at Florida State University.
As they entered the pre-game clamor of the Hooter’s dining room, Leslie cupped her hand close to Carol’s ear and asked for directions to the ladies’ room. Once in the less noisy atmosphere of the “little room,” she tried to collect her thoughts. Actually, she had used the ladies’ room before leaving the airport and only wanted a quiet place to think.
I know it’s impossible to hear another person’s thoughts. That’s crazy. And how come I can only hear Brad’s, and no one else?
Leslie rumpled up some tissue and dabbed at her eye makeup.
I gotta tell Carol. But she won’t believe me. I just know she won’t believe me. But I gotta tell her… somehow.
Leslie smiled at a pair of excited co-eds who joined her.
I know… I’ll call Calculus; she knows all about everything. Gotta go outside so no one will be listening and think I’m crazy.
Leslie nodded at the giggling girls as she left to call her all-knowing friend, she was about to hang up when Sherrie answered the phone. Her nickname was Calculus because she studied all the time and knew something about anything you might ask her.
“Hi Calculus, watzup?”
“Leslie? I thought you were going to Tallahassee?”
“I’m here, for sure, but I have a problem I need your help with…”
“What’d your sister do now?”
“No, that’s not it.” Leslie paused a long time as she tried to decide how to broach the subject.
“Well?” Calculus drew “well” out in a questioning manner.
“Is there… is there such a thing as someone being able to hear another person’s thoughts?”
“You called me long distance to ask me a crazy question like that? Come on, Leslie!”
“No, really, I need your help. What do you know about such stuff? You gotta know something. I wouldn’t have called if…”
“Okay, okay. I don’t believe in it but it is called mental telepathy, and it’s referred to as ‘reading thoughts,’ not ‘hearing thoughts,’ The phenomenon used to be called ‘disambiguation’ until sometime in the 1880’s when a researcher named Fedrich Myers devised the term Telepathy. It is described as the transfer of thoughts or feelings between individuals by means other than the five classic senses. Telepathy: from the Greek tele, ‘distant’, and patheia, ‘feeling.'”
“Whoa… whoa, Calculus, I don’t need to know everything you know. I just need to know… is it for real? How you know all that stuff anyway?”
“I read part of Myers’ works which were published posthu…”
“All I want to know, is it real? Why does it happen?”
“Some think it’s real… but I have my doubts.”
“I know it’s real, and someday I’ll prove it to you… and you can write a paper of your own… so there.”
Leslie was a little ashamed of the way she had talked with her friend, but they ended their conversation with some pleasant small talk, and Leslie hurried back inside to talk things over with Carol.
Why can’t I hear my boyfriend’s thoughts? That’d be good. I’d always be one step ahead’a Daryl.
Chapter 6
Carol was off shift and had ordered them each a serving of hot wings, a house specialty. Leslie slid into the chair alongside Carol, disregarded the hot wings and got right to her point.
“Where’s Brad?”
“He was in a hurry. He left already.”
“Do you know Brad robbed a bank?” just came tumbling out without Leslie even thinking about it.
“You crazy, Sis? Where that come from?” Carol wrinkled her forehead and squeezed her nose up in disgust.
Leslie paused with disdain until several of Carol’s steady male customers gave her a hug. They gave Leslie a good looking over; you could tell they liked what they saw, but they said nothing. Leslie was drumming her nails on the table in agitation.
“I heard him thinking about it on the way here. Honest I did! I called Calculus.”
Carol squinted her eyes and wrinkled her forehead as she looked over her mug of beer.
“So?” Carol set the mug down carelessly, spread her arms wide, and gave Leslie a dumbfounded look, “Who’s this Calculus?”
“Her real name is Sherrie… She’s a genius.
“So?”
“So… She knows all about telepathy.” Leslie emphasized “telepathy.” “So you know it’s true.” Leslie was adamant, and Carol warmed a little to the idea.
“Sis, let’s back up here for a minute. Brad doesn’t need any money; his Dad is a businessman out in California and is really rich. So why would he have to rob a bank? That’s crazy! He even bought his brother a Cadillac just like his… for cash!” Carol spread her hands out palms up to emphasize her point.
Leslie had a dead serious tone. She pushed her plate of hot wings aside and continued to drum her fingers on the table for emphasis.
“Brad robbed a bank, and his Uncle Bob has the loot.”
“Uncle Bob… did you say Uncle Bob?”
“Yeah… Uncle Bob. Why, do you know his Uncle Bob?”
“I don’t know if he even has an uncle of any kind, but he rents a storage shed from a company called Uncle Bob’s. You think that could be it?”
“Ya see! I’m not crazy! He’s on his way to Atlanta… let’s go see, come on, I bet that’s where the loot is, and then you’ll believe me. Come on, let’s go.” Leslie gathered up her untouched wings in a handful of napkins and started for the door, but stopped to wait up for Carol.
“But I don’t know the number of his locker.” Carol was pensive as she thought things over and took a go at her last wing.
Leslie headed for the door.
“Damn, Leslie, wait up will ya?” Carol drained her beer and hurried after Leslie.
“We could ask at the office.” Leslie bubbled.
“They would never tell us at the office, and besides, I wouldn’t want Brad to know.”
They bumped into each other as they both tried to go through the door at the same time. Leslie dropped her napkin and hot-wings.
“Damn, watch it Sis!” Leslie blurted, “Oh—just leave it… didn’t want them anyway, come on, let’s go.”
“Does that place have a security gate or anything?”
“I’ve got no idea… only one way to find out… Let’s go.”
“We just need to go there and look around. I can listen to Brad think .I know I can get the number.”
“You do, do you?”
“Yeah! And I don’t like him… but I just bet I can get it out of him.”
“Wait a minute… I wasn’t with Brad when he rented that space. He confiscated a padlock from my bike, it was painted yellow. I bet I can recognize it. Come on, Sis let’s go find out what the scoop is. I still have the extra key at home. Heck, this might just be the find of a lifetime”
“There’s going to be hell to pay if he comes back and all his money is gone. You know that, Carol, don’t you?”
3 Comments
I really dig your writing, Ken!
Hey Dad. I came, and I’m leaving a comment. You know, frequently, when a character is thinking thoughts to themselves, I see authors italicize their thoughts, rather than put them in quotation marks
Four Bad is a great book. It is full of excitement from the start. I didn’t want to put it down! I am from Tallahassee and I loved that the story was based there. That really drew me in by the specific places, banks and roads were named in it. Made me feel like I was there! Mr. Ken Frisbee Jr., You captivated my interest from beginning to end. I look forward to reading your next books! Thanks neighbor!