How to Committ Robbery - NOT!

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"Of course we can do it!" Katy scowled at her two young friends. "Give me one good reason why not."

"Because we're girls, for one thing," Lynn snorted," and we're too young, for another. We're only fifteen, for crying out loud. Besides, someone'd recognize us for sure."

"Not if we wear disguises. We'll be dressed up like guys and wearing ski masks, remember? Ruthie, you have a low voice. You'll do the talking."

"As if! My folks'd kill me if they found out."

"They won't find out," Katy insisted. "I've got some of Len's clothes here, and with the masks, no one will ever know it was us. Here, look at this." Katy pulled something from under her pillow. "Len's water pistol looks exactly like a real gun. It even scared Dad the first time he saw it."

"And we're supposed to make our getaway on our bikes."

"Of course. Look, there's only one patrol car for this whole pathetic town. We'll be half a mile away before he even gets to the store."

"Um, about the ski masks..." Lynn raised her hand timidly.

"Yes, what about the ski masks?" Katy demanded impatiently.

"I couldn't find them. Dad packed away all the ski things last spring, and I don't know where he put them."

"So ask, dummy!"

"Yeah, right. 'Uh, Dad, can I borrow your ski mask today? The girls and I are gonna hold up Hondell's.' Yeah, that'd work!"

"Swell! Just swell! Now what are we gonna use to cover our faces with?"

"Here, I brought these." Lynn offered a trio of large cloth diapers.

"In a pig's eye! How are we supposed to fit those over our heads?"

"You tie them around under your eyes, like this." Lynn demonstrated. "I saw them do it in an old western on TV."

"Puh-lease! Now she thinks she's the Cisco Kid. Except the Cisco Kid didn't wear a diaper, he wore a bandana, Miss Smarty Britches."

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss Authenticity. I'm fresh out of bandanas. This was all I could find."

"This is just not working," Ruthie complained. "I think we should forget the whole thing." Lynn nodded agreement.

"Look, girls, we've been all over this," Katy reminded them. "Lynn, you want money for your college fund. Ruthie, you want to buy a car, even IF you can't drive it for another year..."

"Eight months" Ruthie corrected.

"Whatever. I want to go to Juliard, and that costs mucho dinero. Believe me, this is the only way. Come on! We can DO this!"

Badgered into submission, the girls donned the baggy jeans and long-sleeved plaid shirts, and immediately ran into their first obstacle - how to keep their pants up.

"You forgot belts, genius," Lynn scoffed. "We can't very well rob a store if we hafta stand around holding our pants up."

"And what about our hair?" Ruthie interjected. "This is definitely girl's hair." She fluffed out her long, dark curls.

"Okay, okay." Katy waddled down the hall to her brother's room and returned with belts and caps for all. "Now here's the plan." She laid out a small map of Forest Run on her bed. "Mooney's Hardware is here on Main St..."

"Mooney's?" Lynn protested. I thought we were going to do Hondell's mini-mart!"

"Naw, we go there too much. Somebody might recognize us."

"I told you THAT yesterday," Ruthie reminded her. Katy gave her a black look.

"So you got half a clue for once. Big deal. Anyway, my dad goes to Mooney's almost every weekend, and he says the place is a gold mine. We oughtta pull down twenty G's easy. Now where was I? Oh, Yeah. We park our bikes in the alley between Mooney's and the pet store, and put on our masks. Lynn, You'll be the lookout, so you won't wear one. You'll stand guard at the corner and whistle if you see anyone coming."

"I can't whistle."

"What do you mean, you can't whistle? Anyone can whistle."

"Well, I can't," Lynn shrugged. "I never could."

"Okay then, holler."

"Holler what? I need a code word."

"Code word! How about 'Somebody's coming'?"

"Wouldn't that sound just a little bit suspicious?"

"Oh, I suppose so," Katy admitted. "Okay, how about 'red dog'?"

"Red dog!" Lynn snorted. "What kind of code word is that?"

"Well, excuse me!" Katy snapped. "You wanted a code word, I gave you a code word. Now can we PLEASE just get on with this?" Lynn settled into a sulking silence, and Katy resumed her discourse. "Now, Ruthie, let me hear you say 'This is a stick-up. Give me all your money.'"

Ruthie cleared her throat. "This is a stick-up. Give me all your money."

Katy rolled her eyes. "Jeeze, you sound like a girl."

"Well, duh!"

"You're supposed to sound like a guy, get it? Try again."

"This is a stick-up. Give me all your money."

Katy sighed patiently. "That's better. Now, after we get the money, we run back to our bikes, pull off our masks - excuse me, our diapers, thank you, Lynn - and ride back down the alley to Sutter St. We'll each take a different street so nobody sees us riding together. Lynn, you'll take Western, Ruthie, you take Miner, and I'll take Garden and go through the park. We'll divvy up the loot when we get back here."

It was a fine day for a robbery, sunny, but with just enough of a breeze to keep it from getting too hot. The larcenous trio arrived at Mooney's without incident, except for a large brown stray dog that followed them down the alley, hoping for a handout. Katy peeked around the corner to make sure the coast was clear.

"Okay, it's cool. Lynn, you wait here at the corner, and remember..."

"I know, I know, red dog." Katy readied the paper bag, and Ruthie shoved the water pistol into her waistband. Both girls tied on their diapers and slipped around the corner. Ruthie looked through the plate glass window and jumped back.

"Forget it. I'm not going in there," she whispered hoarsely.

"Like hell you're not!" Katy hissed furiously. "You're not backing out on me now. We're here, and we're going to do it!" Ruthie shook her head.

"That's Gerald Comstock at the counter. He's on my brother's varsity squad. He'll recognize me for sure."

"Not if you keep your voice real low. Come on!" Katy propelled Ruthie through the open door and up to the front register. Ruthie fumbled with the water pistol, catching it on her belt, and sending a generous stream of water down her left leg.

"Oh, swell," she groaned. She pointed the "weapon" at the wide-eyed clerk. "Gimme a stick-up. This is all your money." she stammered. "I mean, this is a stick-up. Gimme all your money."

"Sure, anything you say, just don't shoot me." The frightened youth emptied the cash drawer onto the counter. Katy stared at the small pile of bills.

"What, are you kidding?" she croaked. "Give us all of it or we'll blast ya!"

"That's all there is, I swear it," Gerald insisted. "We just opened five minutes ago, and that's all I start out with. Fifty bucks. Please mister, don't shoot me."

"Red dog! Red dog!" came Lynn's urgent voice from outside. Katy stuffed the money into her bag and grabbed Ruthie's sleeve.

"Let's go!" she hissed. She hauled her stupefied friend out the door and onto the sidewalk, nearly knocking down poor Mr. Webster shuffling past on his way to the coffee shop in the next block. Ruthie stooped to pick up his cane, dropping the water pistol in the process. She picked it up and jammed it into her belt, sending another torrent of water down her leg. As she leaned over a second time, her mask came untied and fell to the ground. She snatched it up and covered her mouth and nose.

"Sorry," she muttered, and shoved the cane into Mr. Webster's hand.

"Young man, you should be home in bed," he advised sympathetically.

"Come on!" Katy yanked her partner-in-crime around the corner where Lynn waited with the bikes. The stray dog was still there, too, sniffing the tires and adding his own scent to the ones he found there. He sensed the girl's excitement and ran from one to another, pawing at their clothes and tangling himself up in their legs. Pushing him aside, they yanked off their masks, mounted the bikes, and sped down the alley, heading for Sutter St. and freedom. The dog followed, barking hysterically and lunging playfully at their wheels.

"Get away, you mutt!" Katy pushed at him with her foot. He snapped at the paper bag dangling so temptingly from her handlebars, ripping out the bottom and sending their pitiful, precious loot fluttering back down the alley on the breeze. Katy braked and turned and would have followed it, but Ruthie grabbed her shirttail.

"Forget it!" she wailed. "Let's just get out of here."

The frantic foursome turned left on Sutter and headed uptown. Lynn turned on Western and rode headlong into a construction zone half a block down. She charged full speed ahead, dodging men and equipment and a six-foot mound of hot asphalt, only to wind up face down in a pile of loose gravel. Solicitous workers rushed to her aid, but she brushed them aside. "I'm okay, I'm fine," she growled in the deepest voice she could manage. She remounted and wobbled on down the street, leaving the mystified crew scratching their heads in wonderment.

Ruthie's street was Miner Ave., and she made the turn easily, sailing blithely through two stop signs before it dawned on her that there were in fact other vehicles on the street. She skidded to a halt in the middle of Manward, just inches short of Forest Run's one and only patrol car. The bike slid sideways and her cap fell off, spilling her long, dark hair out from underneath. The officer leaned out the window.

"Young lady, do you know what you just did?"

"Yes sir, I guess I do," Ruthie sighed, bracing herself for the handcuffs and the humiliation.

"I hope so," he continued. "By running that stop sign you not only put your own life at risk, but those of other innocent people as well. If I weren't on my way to an armed robbery call, I'd give you a ticket, but as it is, I just can't spare the time. Just see that it doesn't happen again."

"Yes, sir, I mean no sir." she shook her head vigorously. "I'll be more careful, I promise."

"See that you are." The car pulled away and Ruthie started breathing again.

Garden St. was relatively deserted as Katy crossed into the park with her unwelcome canine companion still yapping in her wake.

"Get away from me, you mangy mutt!" she shouted, but his only response was a renewed outburst of joyful barking. A young woman with a stroller blocked the sidewalk through the park, so Katy turned aside onto the grass, just as the automatic sprinklers came on.

Ten minutes and twelve blocks later she slipped through the back door and hurried upstairs, trying not to drip on the carpeting. Lynn and Ruthie were watching the local newscast on her portable TV.

"This just in from Forest Run, police there report the attempted robbery of Mooney's hardware store this morning ," the pert young woman announced. "According to witnesses, two armed men in their twenties entered the store shortly after it opened and demanded all the cash in the register. One suspect was described as being nearly six feet tall with a slim build, and the other was around five-eight and somewhat heavier. Both men wore plaid shirts and baggy jeans, and had masks over their faces. No one was hurt in the incident, and most of the money was recovered from the alley behind the store. Police are continuing to investigate." Katy reached over and snapped off the TV set. "Come on, we better get changed," she said.

The End

Copyright 1996 Kathleen Mc Pugh. All rights reserved.

Kathie Freeman is the author of "Catwalk, A Feline Odyssey", the engaging tale of a vagabond tabby cat, and "The Retro", the story of an unholy alliance of science and government.