And away they’d go.
Speed was everything. It had to be fast. What were the variables, the factors that were out of their control? Maybe a cop would notice the old Nevada plate on the Impala. Couldn’t do anything about that. He’d take care to park with the rear of the car up against another car, so the plate wasn’t visible. What else? The time the armored car arrived. It was usually punctual, right at three, Mitch said, but it could be late. They’d have to be prepared to wait a few extra minutes. The ski masks might be a problem. Obviously, you couldn’t put them on too soon or people would start getting weird. You couldn’t stand around wearing a ski mask next to a bank. They’d have to agree on the exact moment the ski masks would go on and try to keep themselves as hidden as possible until that time.
Cold weather, or rain or snow, would really help. That would make heavy headwear less noticeable and reduce visibility. A good snowstorm might even delay the police’s arrival, but it might also delay or even cancel the armored car’s arrival, so it had to be just the right severity. There were always things out of your control that could help or hurt, Kevin thought. They’d have to be on the top of their game. Definitely no getting high before the robbery. They’d have to make that a rule. Kevin took out the little notepad he had brought with him and wrote No getting high.
Under that, he wrote, Cold weather, rain, good.
That was it. He was done. This thing was going to happen.
“THAT’S IT?” MITCH was looking at Kevin’s notepad. “‘No getting high’? ‘Cold weather, rain, good?’” Mitch laughed as he tossed Kevin’s attempt at scientific organization onto the couch. He noticed Kevin looked annoyed, even hurt, so, using his new leadership skills, which he was developing as he went along, he said, “Prints, man. We gotta write something about wearing gloves around the car at all times.”
Kevin picked up the little notebook. Prints he wrote.
“Prints,” said Doug.
“Dude, did you get the ski masks?”
“Not yet.”
“You know it’s tomorrow,” said Kevin. “What the fuck are you waiting for? What about Tasers? Did you get them?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“Tasers might be a bad idea,” said Mitch. “We’ve decided to go without the Tasers.”
“Why? What if-”
“If we can’t get the money without Tasers, we’re just not getting the money,” Mitch said. “I looked it up online. If you rob someone without a weapon, it’s a whole different deal. It’s, like, two years max. But if you’re even carrying a Taser, it adds like three years to it.”
Kevin thought about this for a few seconds, then said “All right.”
There was a tense silence in the room, which had never happened during their planning sessions before. Within twenty-four hours, it would be done, over. Kevin, who had recently watched a documentary about D-Day, imagined that they were the Allied generals the night before the invasion. Nothing to do now except wait for the time to be right. And, of course, get some motherfucking ski masks.
He looked around the room at his partners as if seeing them for the first time: Doug, who seemed strangely distant, removed from the whole thing, as if he still hadn’t made up his mind to go through with it, and Mitch, who seemed highly motivated, energetic, yet bothered about details. That was a good sign. He wondered what they thought of him. How did he look right now? Stressed? Distant? Determined? He realized what the mood in the room was-it felt like they were all waiting for another one to call it off, and no one would speak up. He felt the need to leave before anyone, most likely Doug, backed out.
“I’d better be getting home,” Kevin said. “Linda has some errands to run, and I have to take care of Ellie.”
“Hey man…” Doug said, rising from the couch. Here it comes, Kevin thought. He’s going to back out. Fine. He and Mitch would do it and have more money to split. “Can you do me a favor?”
Kevin squinted at him. “What?”
Doug handed him the little toothbrush wrapped in plastic. “Can you get a swab from Ellie’s mouth with that? I need it for a drug test.”
Kevin looked at the toothbrush. “Yeah, sure.” To make Doug feel better about asking, and because he thought Mitch was secretly laughing, Kevin added, “I had her pee in a cup once when I was on parole.”
Mitch laughed out loud, a welcome sound in the tense room. “Get outta here, man. See you tomorrow.”
The way he said it, the words had significance beyond their meaning. It really was as if they were all heading for the beaches of Normandy in the morning. Kevin liked the feeling of drama, the sense that everything insignificant now had historic and powerful meaning in their lives. Turning the doorknob. Was this the last time he would ever turn this doorknob? Going home and seeing Ellie. Would that be the last time he would see her? He cleared his mind. He didn’t want to think about that.
“See you tomorrow, dudes.” He slammed the door. Either way, this was his last night as either a broke man or a free man. Time would tell.
IT WAS SNOWING. That alone cheered Kevin up, especially as the Weather Channel hadn’t predicted it. Kevin saw it as a good omen, a sign from god, and kept repeating how good it was until Mitch finally asked him to stop mentioning it.
“It’s just snow, man,” he said. Mitch, who was a practicing atheist, imagined that if god really did exist and actually took an interest in an armored car robbery, he would be more likely to side with the guards.
“Did you get the ski masks?” Kevin asked Doug as he climbed into the pickup. Doug wordlessly pulled from his pocket a handful of old, worn green wool caps, into which he had painstakingly cut eye holes. Kevin stared at them.
“Dude, are you fucking kidding me? Why didn’t you just buy new ski masks?”
“What’s wrong with using these? You can use them as ski masks.”
“Was it because you were worried we weren’t going to pay you back? For ten dollars’ worth of ski masks?”
“Dude, those’re fine,” said Mitch, who was concerned that one of the others might try to pick a fight intentionally so that the whole plan would disintegrate. Now was not the time to bicker, couldn’t they see that? But Kevin, who’d apparently had his heart set on black ski masks, wouldn’t let it go.
“Would it have been so hard to go to the mall and buy a nice set of black ski masks?”
“I don’t have a car anymore,” said Doug. “So yes, it would. And at the end of the day, do you think we’re all going to be sitting around going, ‘Ya know, man, everything would have gone so much better if only our ski masks had been a different color.’”
“I’ll drive the Impala out there,” said Mitch, ignoring both of them. He was gripped by a fear that everything was going to fall apart, which made him talk fast and loud to drown them out. “I’ll follow you,” he said to Kevin, making firm eye contact to draw him away from the ski mask conversation.
“I’ll ride with you,” said Doug, getting out of the pickup. It might be better that way, Mitch thought, because it would put an end to the childishness. Kevin nodded, and Doug slammed the door shut.
“What’s his problem?” Doug asked as they got into the Impala. “Excuse me, but I thought this was a robbery not a fashion show.”
“No big deal, man. He just got hung up on details.”
“But what the-”
“It’ll be fine,” said Mitch, cutting him off. “Put your gloves back on.”