Spike and Caleb stood on Spike’s tired front porch sharing a cigarette. It was raining, lightly at the moment, but judging by the dark clouds that were heading in their direction, it would soon be raining much harder. He rented two rooms from an elderly couple, who didn’t press him too hard when he was late paying his rent. He hated the place, but it was the best he could do.

"You think he's coming back?" Caleb asked.

Spike, who wore a handlebar mustache and stood 6’4,” took one last drag and flicked the cigarette onto the wet sidewalk. "You can never tell with Jackson. Haven't known the boy long, but I know it don't take much to distract him. He sees a skirt he likes, or passes a barbershop and decides he needs a haircut, you just never know."

Caleb, a short stocky sort, with face wrinkles that made him look perpetually worried, said, "Yeah, well he's got the car. We need that car soon if we're going to do the job, Spike. You know the boss is going to be real mad if we don't get it done.” The boss was Sam Schultz.

Spike nodded his head and spit off the porch. "The boss will always find something wrong, even if the job goes perfect. I ain't gonna worry about that. If Jackson don't show up soon, though, I'll call the big man and tell him we can't do it and why. Let him deal with Jackson."

The job was a bank robbery. It was a small town bank, known as the Civic, about 12 miles from where Spike lived. The bank was holding an extra large amount of cash until the larger regional bank got its new safe installed. The public wasn't supposed to know about it, of course, but when the Civic's assistant manager, Henry Snell, got word that they were holding about $50,000, well, he had to tell somebody. Someone he felt he could trust, of course. He picked Carrie Jones, a woman he was trying to impress, so she would go out with him. He was well aware that the woman, divorced three times, was already seeing Spike.

Henry had been holding a grudge against Spike for about 35 years. Spike had humiliated him at a high school dance, by taking the diminutive Henry’s date from him right out there on the dance floor. He was finally going to even the score and then some if things worked out right.

One night, during pillow talk, Carrie mentioned to Spike what Henry had told her. "If that little creep thinks I'll go out with him just because he knows some worthless little secret..." She didn't finish the thought. She just giggled. In her late 40s now, she still looked good. She was fond of saying, "I kept my figure nice because I was smart enough not to let any of my dumb ass husbands knock me up." She also mentioned that Henry had told her, his boss, the bank manager, would be away at a conference soon. That cemented the date for the robbery in Spike’s mind. Another chance to make Henry look bad. He held a grudge of his own. Henry had twice seen to it that the Civic Bank turned down Spike’s loan applications.

When Spike reported the news to Sam, that the Civic Bank had a lot of extra cash on hand, the man's eyes lit up like a spastic pinball machine., Spike and Caleb happily deferred to Sam, because many years ago he had completed one year of community college. The three men, all on the wrong side of 50, had stuck to small jobs, robbing gas stations, convenience stores and doing occasional home burglaries in neighboring towns. The men worked honest jobs sporadically, taking temporary work on loading docks or sweeping warehouse floors. Robberies supplemented their meager incomes nicely.  And Sam was meticulous. He had a sharp eye for detail. They were always careful, planning meticulously to avoid capture. "Boys, this is the score we been praying for," he said to Spike and Caleb. “We need a fast, reliable car that nobody around here has seen for this job. My nephew, Jackson, is a fantastic wheel man. You mind if I bring him in on this?"

"Depends," Caleb said. "I mean what's the boy driving? None of us has what you might call a reliable car no matter who's driving."

Sam smiled. "That's the best part. He's got a Ford Fairlane 500 he souped up a bit. Car's only 3 years old and he can get her up to 120 real quick."

The four men met at Sam's place and decided how they would do the job. Sam would handle any customers in the place. Caleb would point his Ruger.38 at the banker and make him open the safe. Spike would grab the loot. Jackson, a good looking blond headed kid of 24, would wait in the car, motor running.

Spike suggested they wear masks that covered their heads entirely. Everyone readily agreed. He also said, “I can get that fool, Henry to move real quick without pulling the alarm.” He would write a note, letting the over eager, lovelorn bachelor know that they had Carrie Jones gagged and bound somewhere nearby. That Miss Jones would be killed if he didn't cooperate. Well, this would be better news than the assistant manager could have hoped for. He was sure that Henry would jump at the chance to play the role of Carrie’s hero. The man could claim he cooperated to save Carrie's life. “That would be a better calling card than just passing on a little information about money in the bank vault, wouldn't it?” Spike asked.  

But now that the day arrived, Spike and Caleb were still standing on the porch waiting for Jackson. The bank would close in about an hour. If Jackson didn’t arrive soon, they were lost. The money was expected to be transferred back to the regional bank the next morning. 

Ten long minutes later, Jackson came sailing down the road. He got out of his yellow Fairlane and swaggered up to the porch. "You boys ready? Just gotta get us some gas."

"You been drinking, Jackson"? Caleb asked.

"Couple of beers is all."

"Jackson? Give me them keys," Spike said. 

"No sir. Nobody drives my Ford but me. Besides, Sam said that's my job."

Spike nodded. "Yep, I'm just gonna drive us till we get to the bank. You got the wheel after that." He gave Caleb a sideways, questioning glance. 

Jackson thought that over for a moment "You know how to drive a stick?"

"Been doing it since I was thirteen."

The three men took off and made it to their destination in 15 minutes. 

They met up with Sam at the railroad tracks about a mile south of the bank.  He had scoped out the town and the banker. "Boys this almost looks too easy. We shouldn't have no trouble. I even figured out a way to make sure the patrol car ain't working. I saw it outside the Denny's and I quick like threw a potato in the exhaust pipe. They drove to the bank and Sam, Spike and Caleb went inside. There were only two customers, both elderly women, and one sleepy teller. 

Henry was very cooperative. It was almost like he was happy to see them. He opened the safe and reached in, pulling out a large burlap bag. He tried to hand it to Spike, but Spike said, "Open it."

Henry did as he was told, looking a bit nervous, finally. Spike looked in and saw a pile of neatly wrapped bills, hundreds and fifties. Satisfied, he said to the others, let's go." They walked quickly, but calmly to Jackson's Ford Fairlane and got in. They drove to Sam's house. “Get out of here Jackson and don’t come back here for a good long while. I’ll come see you in a couple of days with your share.”

The men walked quickly to Sam’s garage. They went over to an old kitchen table and Spike emptied the bag. They all saw immediately something was wrong. The only real money was the hundreds and fifties on top of the stacks that Spike had seen. The rest was green paper cut the size of bills. Somehow, they'd been double crossed.  Caleb looked at Spike. "Did you tell anybody we was doing this job?"

"Hell no."

"What about Carrie? You sure you didn't say nothing to her?"

Spike's face got red. "I didn't tell nobody.” He stood there staring at the dirty garage floor.  

The three men stood around the table. There were four hundreds and three fifties. Sam picked up the cash. "Maybe that banker fella, Henry had the same idea we did. He must of known something was up."

Henry did know something. He drove down the Interstate, carefully, heading west. He calmly lit a cigarette and handed it to Carrie. "We have a long drive, Sweetie. Then we fly to Mexico. You’re going to love it there.”

 “As long as I get my share, I’m good.”

“You're gonna get more than that. Don’t forget, you have me too."

 Carrie grinned. “Oh, I know. How much money did we get?”

Henry laughed. He loved her face especially in the sun. “You hold it darling. We can count it later.”

 It didn’t take law enforcement long to put the pieces together. To begin with, Jackson didn’t leave town right away. He was hungry so he stopped for a pizza two blocks from the bank. He’d parked in the back; sure no one would notice his canary yellow car. He was wrong.

 Henry was quickly expedited back to the States. The men were arrested, charged and quickly convicted. None of them mentioned Carrie’s name. She adored her new life on the Gulf of Mexico.