Hour 3

Rural Bank

Bridgette pulled into the bank parking lot, just after 9.  She dropped her SUV into park and climbed out, trying to stay next to an entering customer so Marlene couldn't see her.  The ploy worked and in moments, she was in the back, getting her money tray.  Bridgette set up at a station and opened her window.  The first one up was a tall man, dark hair, thin beard, and torn jacket.  He smiled and showed his dark gums and one remaining tooth. 

“Good morning, Mr. Brown.”  Bridgette smiled back at him.  “How are you this morning?”

Henry Brown pulled an envelope from his pocket, “I’m doing well, dear.  I would just like to make a deposit today.”  He set the envelope down and pulled out a stack of $1 and $5 bills as she started filling out a deposit slip for him.  “I sold some peppers and cabbages today.”

“That’s fantastic, Mr. Brown.”  She handed him the pen and she signed his name.  “I trust you’ll be selling much more soon.”

“I hope so!”  Henry took his receipt and walked to the door.  He turned back and gave a lazy smile, “Cause it’s hard to…pay…”  His speech slowed and he started to drool.  “peppers…Oh, God.”  Henry fell to the floor and other customers gathered around.  A security guard checked his pulse and found Henry’s arm cold and stiff.  Acknowledging no life signs, he turned to the manager who called emergency services.

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Rural Bank data center

“Welcome, Ray.”  Mr. Winston was standing next to a generator watching a voltmeter.  “Sorry we had to call you in on a Saturday.”

Raymond set his bag down on a table and turned back.  “It’s ok, I didn’t really have much to do today.  Just mow the lawn, fix a gutter, clean the car, organize the garage, scrub the oil off the driveway…no biggy.”  He smiled at his boss and went into the break area to clock in, Mr. Winston following.  “What did Mike say when he called in?”

“He didn’t,” Mr. Winston sat at his desk.  “His wife called in for him, said he has the flu or something.  Said that he couldn’t even talk, it was so bad.”

Raymond leaned against a table next to him.  “Yeah, saw on the news that cases of the flu have skyrocketed over the last day or two.  Guess something is going around.”

“It happens…” Mr. Winston started coughing.  Raymond stood and filled a cup with water for him.  “Sorry, throat just got sore and itchy.  Not sure what happened.”

Raymond set away from him.  “Are you getting sick?”

Mr. Winston leaned back and sipped.  His eyes glazed over and he stared at the wall.  “You know?  I could be.  Hadn’t noticed it before.”  He finished his water and got up to tend to managerial duties.  “I may leave in a few minutes.”

Raymond went to tend to his work and waved his boss off.  “Don’t get me sick.  I can’t afford it.  I’m salary.”

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Inside coffee shop

The small old woman stepped quietly into the coffee shop.  Randy and Joe were still sitting there, a small bag of onions on the floor by Randy’s feet.  The old woman turned and looked at the two.  Her wide grin showed white teeth, well cared for, and her white and brown hair sat softly on her shoulders.  Randy looked up at her and Joe turned to look.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.”  She sat between the gentlemen.  “Would you happen to know where I can find a young man by the name of Randy Hammers?”

Randy tilted his head and offered his hand.  “That’s me, ma’am.  What can I do for you?”  The old woman dropped her smile and stared at Randy for a few moments before reaching down and grabbing at the bag.  “What are you doing, you crazy bag?”  Randy pulled it away and pushed her back.  “Don’t touch my bloody onions.”

“You wouldn’t understand, hick boy.  Give me that bag.”  She pushed forward and reached out again.  Joe helped his friend in pushing her back.  “Give it to me or millions will die!”  Her face was bright red and sweat dripped from her wrinkles.

Randy kicked the chair from under her and she landed on the floor on her belly, still eyeing the back and trying to pull away.  Randy and Joe her back as the shop owner hung up the phone.  “Sheriff is on his way.  He is right across the street.”

Sheriff Brian Henley pushed into the coffee shop and grabbed the woman with the two farmers.  Cuffing her, he dragged her, screaming, to the back of his car and pulled away, her still pressed against the window.

Joe pulled off his hat.  “What was that all about?”

Randy turned and smiled.  “See?  My idea’s worth millions.”