At 9:30 the enormous antique four-faced
Seth Thomas clock that was a mainstay in the lobby of the bank chimes its
greeting on the half hour.
The sound happens so frequently that
Tracy, as well as the other employees, have learned to tune the ringing out after
a short while. Otherwise, hearing a dinging ringing every fifteen minutes would
drive someone mad.
For some reason that Tracy would later wonder about, she heard it
this time, and glanced at the clock on her computer, as if she needed to double
check. She would later report that she had made a mental note that her break
was in fifteen minutes, as she completed a row of five bananas. It was a
mundane detail that would add to the suspicion they would paint her with.
At some point after the 9:30 chime, but
before the 9:45 chime, they entered the bank.
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed
the man with a pale grey face, a hook nose and black and white harlequin pants.
It didn’t register at first that this was a mask and costume.
Then she notices someone else that seemed
female, do a series of cartwheels. She lands in a round-off with a tight bounce
and a giggle. It reminds Tracy
of the chime on the clock in a way.
"Columbine!" she heard someone
say forcefully, and it is the first indication that something is wrong.
Something was actually happening and it is very wrong.
She watches the group of strangely
dressed clowns... actors... mimes? Walk around the floor, positioning
themselves carefully. Their harlequin masks and colorful satin pants with
sequins catch the light, bouncing the rays around the stoic building in a
friendly manner.
But this ain’t no disco.
But not alarming. Their presence was
anything but alarming. Puzzling. That's what she would say later, "It was
just puzzling why they were there."
There aren’t many people in the bank,
just a few customers and a handful of tellers. Mr. Tangent is snugged away in
his office. Melissa isn’t at the teller's desks, so she was probably in there
with him. They always had things to discuss.
The few people present all seem drawn to
the spectacular, like everyone is waiting for something to happen, waiting for
the show.
And then it all happens at once.
A man is suddenly in front of Tracy 's desk, and she
could make out a smile with dingy teeth below his ornate mask.
"I think you know where we're
going," he says.
"My purse? I don't have any
money," Tracy
replies, not fully grasping the situation
"The vault, you fool." The
man's voice is harsh, rasping.
There were loud voices, some shouts, then
scuffling and a bang. Tracy
felt a thud on her shoulder, and had time to glance down at her shirt, knowing
whatever it was this red stain would never come out.
Then she feels like she is in a tunnel,
and everyone else is far away. She sees Tangent, his clammy face white and
cold... her last thought as the fuzzy tunnel closes around her is that she
wishes he would actually piss his pants. Wouldn't that just be the best.
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