-“Michael, which is your pin number please? The guy seated next to him cordially inquires as they park in an obscure corner of the parking lot of Bank of America.
Mike supplies the code, as he perspires profusely by this time.
Suddenly Mike breaks down to cry as he remembers that the pin code represents the name of his first born. He wants more than anything in the world for this awful ordeal to be over with, and to embrace his daughters close to him again.
The guy exists the car after putting on a cap to cover his features. The driver in front keeps and eye on Mike directly from the rear view mirror. He looks with derision at Mike, as if asking what kind of man he is to cry like a baby.
Mike wipes his tears with his sleeve, and composes himself. That was just a moment of weakness induced by a stark reminder of our mortality, and what is truly valuable when conducting a quick inventory.
-“Hand me your cell phone please.” The driver with the shinny eyes orders with authority. To ascertain his authority, he pulls out his revolver from the inside of his leather coat.
The driver peruses the pictures on the cell phone. There are several pictures of two girls about ten and eight years old.
-“Pretty girls, were you on your way to meet them?” The driver asks casually.
-“No, I…I was just going home to rest. I only see them on the weekends.” Mike supplied with a knot in his throat.
-“I have a little girl too. She is the apple of my eyes. You see Michael; I am also a father and business man – like you. Please don’t think awful badly of me. My name is Boris by the way.” He volunteered.
Mike’s nerves, as taut as a rubber band stretched to the limit caused him to snap. - “Like me? I am an honest, law abiding citizen. I work very hard for my money, how can you be like me?” Mike spewed from clenched teeth with barely contained fury.
-“Come on, we are simply standing on different street corners you and I.
Yet, what is so different from me, than white collared crooks robbing non-profit agencies that helped the needy?
Or those making a profit off the misery of those evicted from their homes, and out in the cold? Did you know there are approximately seven thousand foreclosures daily?
Michael, we are in the midst of the worst financial calamity since the Great Depression. Just read the papers. Everyday Joes' are now resulting to shoplifting as a last recourse.
This is only the beginning. It will get worst, and with it, anarchy flourishes like rosebuds bloom in spring.”
Their conversation was cut short by the guy in the cap returning to the car with a withdrawal receipt in hand. They drove out at a leisure pace.
-“What do you feel like eating for dinner Michael?” Boris asked solicitously.
-“I’m not hungry at all.” Mike answered as he felt vile running down his throat.
-“I would suggest that you revise your answer Michael, for we will be together for quite a long time.” Boris foretold.
To be continued…
