street.
I drove out of town and along the freeway. Five miles out of Luceville was a Caltex service station. I had never stopped there, but I had often passed it. It was always doing a brisk trade, and I knew it remained open all night.
As I drove by it, I slowed the Buick. There was a fat, powerfully built man in white uniform shooting gas into a car. I couldn’t see anyone else around. I felt satisfied this man was on night shift and would be on his own.
I U-turned when I could and drove back to Luceville. I spent the next two hours in an all-night movie house, watching an old Western. It was good enough to hold my attention.
When the lights came up, I walked with the rest of the crowd into the hot cement-dusty street and got in my car.
For some moments, I sat still, before starting the motor.
Here I go, I thought and was a little dismayed that my heart was thumping and my hands wet with sweat.
There was a lay-by some three hundred yards from the service station. I pulled into it, killed the motor and the lights. I looked ahead at the bright flashing sign that spelt out: CALTEX. Getting out of the car and keeping in the shadows, I put on the jacket, the wig and the glasses. My hands were so unsteady when I took the toy gun out of the sling bag, I dropped it. I spent some feverish moments groping in the grass before I found it.
My heart was hammering. For a moment I hesitated whether to go back to the hotel or to go ahead.
Then Rhea with her red hair and her cynical, sexy green eyes came into my mind and my nerve stiffened.
I walked fast along the grass verge of the highway towards the lights of the service station.
Only an occasional car whizzed by me.
As I neared the service station I slowed my pace.
Keeping in the shadows, I moved slowly forward. I could now see the small, well-lighted office. The fat attendant was watching a late-night TV show, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Tension was making my heart beat so violently I had trouble with my breathing. I stood still for some minutes, watching him. The highway was deserted. If I was going to do it, I had to do it now.
I heard myself muttering: ‘Are you crazy? You could land in jail!’ But I moved forward, gripping the butt of the toy gun so hard my fingers began to ache.
The attendant looked up as I pushed open the glass door. At the sight of me, he stiffened, then seeing the gun, he froze.
‘This is a hold up,’ I said, but there was no snarl in my voice. I was as scared as he was.
We stared at each other. He was a man around fifty years of age: a fat, fatherly type, his hair shot with grey and he had steady brown eyes and the firm mouth of a provider.
He recovered from his fright. His eyes examined the gun in my hand, then he relaxed.
‘No money here, son,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re out of luck.’
‘Give me the money or this heater goes off.’ The quaver in my voice sickened me. I knew I was as menacing as a mouse.
‘We have a system here, son,’ he said, as if talking to a child. ‘A night safe. Every buck I get gets fed into that steel box over there and only the boss can open it.’
I stared at him, sweat running down my face.
‘I gave my son one of those guns for Christmas,’ he went on. ‘He’s crazy about James Bond.’ His eyes shifted to the lighted TV screen. ‘Suppose you shove off? Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I go for Bob Hope.’ He gave a relaxed laugh as Hope said: Even my flab is flabby.
Defeated, I went away into the darkness, to my car and back to the hotel.
FIVE
B ack in my hotel bedroom, I lay in the dark and in despair.
Cheapie!
Spooky’s taunt rang in my ears.
Yes Cheapie!
My head ached and I was shivering with frustration and shame. I was gutless! There must be something wrong with my mechanism! It was only when I was goaded into losing my temper that I seemed to be able to act, but in cold blood, I was as menacing as a mouse!
I knew for certain that my gutless attempt to
I drove out of town and along the freeway. Five miles out of Luceville was a Caltex service station. I had never stopped there, but I had often passed it. It was always doing a brisk trade, and I knew it remained open all night.
As I drove by it, I slowed the Buick. There was a fat, powerfully built man in white uniform shooting gas into a car. I couldn’t see anyone else around. I felt satisfied this man was on night shift and would be on his own.
I U-turned when I could and drove back to Luceville. I spent the next two hours in an all-night movie house, watching an old Western. It was good enough to hold my attention.
When the lights came up, I walked with the rest of the crowd into the hot cement-dusty street and got in my car.
For some moments, I sat still, before starting the motor.
Here I go, I thought and was a little dismayed that my heart was thumping and my hands wet with sweat.
There was a lay-by some three hundred yards from the service station. I pulled into it, killed the motor and the lights. I looked ahead at the bright flashing sign that spelt out: CALTEX. Getting out of the car and keeping in the shadows, I put on the jacket, the wig and the glasses. My hands were so unsteady when I took the toy gun out of the sling bag, I dropped it. I spent some feverish moments groping in the grass before I found it.
My heart was hammering. For a moment I hesitated whether to go back to the hotel or to go ahead.
Then Rhea with her red hair and her cynical, sexy green eyes came into my mind and my nerve stiffened.
I walked fast along the grass verge of the highway towards the lights of the service station.
Only an occasional car whizzed by me.
As I neared the service station I slowed my pace.
Keeping in the shadows, I moved slowly forward. I could now see the small, well-lighted office. The fat attendant was watching a late-night TV show, a cigarette dangling from his lips.
Tension was making my heart beat so violently I had trouble with my breathing. I stood still for some minutes, watching him. The highway was deserted. If I was going to do it, I had to do it now.
I heard myself muttering: ‘Are you crazy? You could land in jail!’ But I moved forward, gripping the butt of the toy gun so hard my fingers began to ache.
The attendant looked up as I pushed open the glass door. At the sight of me, he stiffened, then seeing the gun, he froze.
‘This is a hold up,’ I said, but there was no snarl in my voice. I was as scared as he was.
We stared at each other. He was a man around fifty years of age: a fat, fatherly type, his hair shot with grey and he had steady brown eyes and the firm mouth of a provider.
He recovered from his fright. His eyes examined the gun in my hand, then he relaxed.
‘No money here, son,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re out of luck.’
‘Give me the money or this heater goes off.’ The quaver in my voice sickened me. I knew I was as menacing as a mouse.
‘We have a system here, son,’ he said, as if talking to a child. ‘A night safe. Every buck I get gets fed into that steel box over there and only the boss can open it.’
I stared at him, sweat running down my face.
‘I gave my son one of those guns for Christmas,’ he went on. ‘He’s crazy about James Bond.’ His eyes shifted to the lighted TV screen. ‘Suppose you shove off? Maybe I’m old-fashioned, but I go for Bob Hope.’ He gave a relaxed laugh as Hope said: Even my flab is flabby.
Defeated, I went away into the darkness, to my car and back to the hotel.
FIVE
B ack in my hotel bedroom, I lay in the dark and in despair.
Cheapie!
Spooky’s taunt rang in my ears.
Yes Cheapie!
My head ached and I was shivering with frustration and shame. I was gutless! There must be something wrong with my mechanism! It was only when I was goaded into losing my temper that I seemed to be able to act, but in cold blood, I was as menacing as a mouse!
I knew for certain that my gutless attempt to
Similar Books
