Mason was confused. So was I.
“What angels have you ever seen that are half Puerto Rican?” he asked.
Dixie tilted her head to the side, confused. She stared at him, trying to understand what he said.
“What’s Pertoe Reecan?” she asked, the words coming out foreign and mispronounced.
“Basically Mexican,” I said in simpler terms for her to understand. She nodded in understanding.
“I saw a picture at the grocery store. It said angels. And there was this picture that looked like Mason,” she said nonchalantly and then she took off after the ball.
Mason looked away, trying to make sense of what Dixie said.
“Who knows? She’s five. I’m sure any Mexican with light eyes reminds her of you.” I laughed.
But Mason wasn’t amused.
My mom hollered for us to get moving before the bank closed for lunch.
We sat in front of the bank in her car. She’d kept her promise to give us some money to help us out since we were broke.
She applied some lip gloss as she looked in the rearview mirror before she climbed out of the car.
“I need to run into the grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner. Do you guys want to come?” Her blonde hair fell over her shoulders as she looked into the car at Mason and me.
I started to undo my seat belt, but Mason grabbed my arm stopping me. I raised an eyebrow confused.
“We’ll just stay here,” he said nonchalantly. My mom nodded helping Dixie out of the back seat and they were gone.
I twisted around to get a good look at Mason. I hoped it wasn’t something silly like getting frisky in the back seat.
“I wanted to check something out. Just humor me. It won’t take long,” he promised, getting out of the car.
I followed him past the grocery store, trying to figure out what we were doing. Mason took my hand. He was acting a little strange.
I stared at the bank’s doors. “Mason, why are we at the bank without my mom?”
He opened the door, holding tight to my hand. The bell chimed overhead sending everyone’s eyes in our direction.
“Kendall, you talk too much…shush,” he said.
“When I’m not getting answers, I do,” I snapped.
Can I help you, sir?” The bank teller asked as Mason tugged me through the line, cutting to the front.
I apologized to the woman behind us for his rudeness. I wasn’t sure what had come over him.
“My name is Mason Vaughn and this is a robbery,” he said as cool as a cucumber.
I couldn’t believe my ears.
The teller acted confused. Most bank robbers wore masks to remain anonymous.
“Mason,” I said, trying to maintain my composure. I tried to wriggle free from his grip on my hand. He wouldn’t let my hand go.
“Sir…” the man started. He blinked quickly, growing nervous once neither of us cracked a smile.
One man behind us tried going out the door. Mason spun on his heel. “No one moves!”
The man stopped in his tracks and held up his hands in surprise.
“Does this guy even have a gun?” someone asked.
I swallowed, hoping he didn’t. I looked at Mason.
“Of course. What kind of idiot robs a bank without a gun?” He proceeded to pull a gun from the waist of his pants. “Now everyone have a seat!”
One woman with a baby burst into tears as she dropped to the floor with her squirming baby.
“Is this your plan?” I asked angrily.
Everyone kept their eyes glued to Mason’s every move.
“Shut up, Kendall,” Mason ground out.
My mom appeared at the window. It didn’t take her long to figure out what was going on. She looked frightened when she saw Mason was holding a gun. She threw open the bank’s door and barged in.
“Mason!” she yelled in disbelief. No one expected Mason to do this.
I didn’t know what the point was.
Dixie stayed behind my mom’s legs, peeking her little face out.
“Joy-Ann, I swear to you I’m not going to hurt her. Just take Dixie and go home.”
“I thought you were an angel, Mason?” Dixie said softly.
“No, I’m sorry, Dixie, that’s not me,” Mason said.
My mom looked at me, unsure if she should listen to him. She had just gotten me back. “Kendall, what should I do?”
“Just do what he says. I’ll be okay. Mason wouldn’t hurt me. And please don’t call the police,” I begged her. She nodded and left quickly. For some strange reason, she trusted me.
I knew she didn’t want to go, but there was nothing she could do.
The bank teller cleared his throat. “Sir, if you could please rethink what you’re about to do.”
Mason ignored him. “Everyone up against the wall.” He locked the door and took all the keys, quickly barricading everyone inside in a matter of minutes.
“It would be in everyone’s best interest to be quiet,” he said. He was calm, calmer than I’ve ever seen him before.
“Mason, this is nuts,” I whispered. “What do you think this is helping?”
“Kendall, stop talking and sit down,” he ordered, ignoring me now.
Mason motioned the female bank teller over.
“Miss, do me a favor,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” she said near tears. Her face was pale.
“Are you a good liar?”
She hesitated, shoving hair out of her eyes and shook her head yes.
“Good. I want you to pick up the phone and call the police department. Tell them you’re being held up by some crazed lunatic. Tell them there are about fifteen hostages. Make it good because Gusby doesn’t always do their job,” Mason told her. He sat down on the floor beside me.
I shook my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you! Why would you do this, Mason?” I started to cry.
Mason threw his arm around me. “Kendall, calm down. I’m doing this for you,” he said, kissing my cheek. He wiped my tears, not concerned at all that everyone was looking at us.
“How could any of this be for me?” I sobbed. I was sure he’d lost his mind.
I waited for him to say something, but before he could, the blaring sirens filled the air and police cars pulled up one after another outside the bank. Doors flew open and guns were drawn.
I felt my freedom slipping away from me. Mason stood up, then took my hand and helped me up.
“Kendall, I love you,” he whispered in my ear. He got behind me and wrapped an arm around my neck, using my body like a shield. His body pressed tightly against mine.
“Mason, please don’t do this,” I begged. “I don’t want to be killed.” Panic was taking over and I pulled at his arm, desperately trying to get free.
I didn’t want to be shot. I didn’t want to die this way.
I wanted to go back to my Mom’s. I was hoping we had a way out of troubles. I was confident that things were looking up for once. I didn’t understand why Mason didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t understand why we were now involved in a standoff with the Gusby police force.
We’d been home for days and no one had spoken a word of our predicament. No one knew.
“Sir, they want to talk to you,” the bank teller said, extending the phone to Mason.
He moved us backwards and took the phone. “Yes. My name is Mason Vaughn…you’re correct,” he said.
The room was eerily silent as Mason spoke to the officer on the other end as he sealed his fate. “I am willing to let some of them go…yes, sir.”
He pointed at the woman and the baby. She quickly scrambled to her feet. She ran to the door and fought with the lock trying to open the door. Once she got it open, she quickly raced out of the bank. She was sobbing as soon as her feet hit the sidewalk.
“All right now. I’m hanging up. Anything else you want to say, you’re going to have to holler,” Mason said. He tossed the phone over the counter and focused on the windows.