the bank manager

Inmaculada Concepion = Immaculate Conception Day (December 8)

tripping along, singing our song, side by side...

the mushed up words kept bouncing around inside her head, and they were driving her crazy. partly an old song her Mom used to listen to on those non-stop TV reruns with the same old advertisements, and partly her own words thrown in there. she shifted uncomfortably in her new pink suit, feeling the skirt rise up her thighs. not a color she would wear by choice, but it matched the blond wig she had just put on. pulling on her sunglasses, she surveyed her image critically from head to toe. she smiled ruefully at what she saw but it would have to do for today, and hopefully the security officer at the bank wouldn't recognize her this time. she really needed to get past him into the manager's office today and she just couldn't take another failed attempt.

she patted her sickly pink hand-bag pushing aside the tassels to ensure the magnum was still in there. she had only picked it up yesterday from the Italian behind the mechanic's shop, and she had learnt very quickly how to load it and how to remove the safety so it would be good to go. she picked up her brown cat and gave him a quick squeeze, incurring a slow lazy meow. she dropped him on her bed and she recognized then that she may never come home again, and was grateful she had dropped a note in her Mom's post-box to say that Leticia (she had only found out recently that her cat was a 'he', after many years.. and it was too complicated an explanation to think about right now) needed to be fed. Mom would take the fat cat home, already thinking that she was a lousy cat-owner and looking for any excuse to take him over.

she was soon stepping out into the afternoon sun, and was mighty glad for the big black shades pushed up against the bridge of her nose. she hurried past the construction workers that wolf-whistled at her. they wouldn't look at her ordinarily in her own mousy brown hair and thick reading glasses, but blond and dressed in pink, they practically stopped traffic to call out after her. she struggled hard to keep her balance now in her 4 inch stilettos, and had to fight the urge to walk on barefoot, as she hurried on past the men. she counted the cracks in the pavement as she waited for the traffic lights to change. only another two blocks and she would be standing outside the main branch. she took a deep breath and mentally rehearsed her lines all over again. she had to remember to whisper enticingly as that would disguise her own natural voice and encourage the guard to think she really was a harmless bimbo wanting to open a savings account of her own, now that she had got her "very first job". she just had to sound convincing.

minutes later, she was giggling the excuse of why she needed to get a manager at the prestigious bank to help her out. the wig and the outfit must have worked miracles as minutes later she was being ushered into the big green-carpeted office and the manager's mousy new secretary was running off to ensure her coffee was made exactly to order. she stood quietly in the corner of the leather-upholstered room, and waited patiently. he would soon be in, excited at the prospect of a young blond spanking new customer wanting his professional services. she imagined him straightening up his tie, and checking his teeth to make sure they were just as shiny, eye-balling himself in the mirror he always kept in his upper right hand pocket. the door burst open behind her, and the manager walked in, full of beans and wearing a light blue-grey suit. he strode over to her and shook her hand firmly. he ushered her soothingly into the green single seater near the large bay window and bounced over to his desk to pull out the official forms she needed to fill out. she waited patiently for his secretary to come back in with her coffee and to leave again. she knew then that they would be completely alone. that he would have given her the same strict instructions she herself had heard many a time, not to be disturbed at any cost.

she stood up then, and walked over to him. he was seated at this desk, looking through some open drawers, trying to figure out where the necessary papers were. he looked up with an agreeable customer friendly line just bursting to be said, when she took of her sunglasses slowly. his words caught in his throat, and he recoiled visibly. "Anna", he swallowed loudly, "My goodness, Anna. Is that you girl?" She unzipped her bag and slowly took out the magnum. He balked at the sight of the gun, and started to stammer nervously now, visibly upset (he stuttered when he was scared, and only 2 women in the whole wide world knew that, his mother and her), "What.. ah.. what.. ah.. what are you...ah... doing here... ah girl?" "I'm pregnant", she retorted flatly, "and all you can do is avoid me?" She walked over to him and pushed the gun right into the side of his face. He started to break out into a cold sweat that heightened visibly when she unlocked the safety. "I have been trying to speak to you for weeks now Harold, and I even had to go out and buy this ugly old wig to get past your security dog. Now, why ever don't you return any of my calls hon?"

Harold spluttered through some excuses, and Anna listened to him with growing disgust. This was the man that had seduced her, and that had successfully taken her virginity away from her at the ripe old age of 18, when all she had ever done was work diligently as his secretary for the last 6 years, only to find out that he got married to a girl last month. a girl his mother had picked for him, and that she had only been the 6-8 o'clock pass time (she learnt this last bit at the office water cooler when Brett from Purchasing was telling Mark from Finance all about Anna, the boss' office squeeze). she shut her eyes hard, remembering the dedicated hours they had spent sweating on each other right there on that ugly green carpet and how many times she had had to treat herself after for her carpet burnt knees and elbows. she opened her eyes to see him shaking now, and she knew then that he was never going to leave his wife. "Stand up Harold," she said flatly, "I can't shoot a man that is sitting down now, can I, hmm?". She watched him stand shakily and she could feel the gun slide down across his cheekbone as he was sweating like a right old pig now. "I want to to take your pants off.. Go on.. do it now. That's a good boy. And now, I want you to drop your boxers too.. Go on now. No need to be shy. I have done quite a bit more than just look at little Harold there. Come on now. Good boy."

She shot him 4 times in his chest and once in his face as he lay bleeding and dying on that ugly old green carpet. and she pumped the last bullet of hers into the back of her throat, and fell to the ground thinking at least her cat would get fed tonight...

~a fictional piece by amreeth~