It was in the afternoon of April third that we met. I had been working at the Business Bank of Trade for nearly two years now, my job as a teller made a little bit easier by my unique abilities.
That day, like every other, saw only a thin sprinkling of traffic in the afternoon. And so I was leaning against the counter, trading a few quick jokes with a regular while sorting through his information.
It's about that time that you entered and stared around the bank, eyes wide and back slightly hunched. I finished taking care of my last client and kept an eye on you, if only because you were suspicious.
An older couple was at the ATM. A cute husband and wife pair that made their way hand-in-hand to the bank every few weeks were using the machine. He was retired and she liked stuffing the grandkids full of candy and presents behind their parent's back. You shuffled your way up behind them and stood shifting your weight from foot to foot, waiting for them to finish.
I was distracted by the next client, but kept the corner of my eye on you as you finally stepped up to the machine and inserted a card. A moment later you were grumbling and glaring at the ATM.
It didn't take much for you to rip your card out and make your way to my counter, red in the face as you waited behind my latest client. Our eyes met for a second and you looked away, blushing.
My last client left with a quick, inattentive smile and almost ran into you before you sidestepped around her. "May I help you, sir?" I asked.
You bit your lower lip, face still flushed. "Hi, I'd like to make a withdrawal. Your machine glitched after I entered my pin."
I smiled at you. "That happens. Don't worry. Can I have your card, please? And a piece of ID?"
You gave me what I asked for, while moving around as though trying to keep eye contact the entire time. I didn't mind it much. We received our fair share of odd customers and you were a bit cuter than most.
"Hmm, your card seems to be broken," I said, as the screen before me flashed a data reading error. But your ID checks out. Here." I passed you a card-swiping device. "Enter your pin, please."
You did as I had asked, swallowing hard as time ticked on and the machine made its quick calculations. "And there you go!" I said. "How much did you need?"
You told me the amount and watched as I counted out the bills and laid them in front of me. When I finished, I looked up. "Will that be all?"
"Yeah, thanks," you said. "I'm going to buy a camera, to see if it remembers me." You froze, as though realizing how silly you sounded. "Um, you know, for taking pictures and stuff.... Sorry."
Turning you began to leave, my eyes boring into your back until my attention was stolen by two men who were walking in.
Their faces were covered in ski masks and both totted large, seemingly empty bags in their off hand. The one at the fore had a revolver which he pointed right at the elderly couple, shamelessly poking the older woman in the ribs with the gun's barrel.
"Alright, everybody down. We're gonna do this nice and smooth-like, okay?" the second man said as he walked around his partner and to the bank's centre. He pointed a jagged-edged knife at me. "Don't press no buttons, lady. No heroics. This place has got insurance for a reason. We'll take what we need and be out."
I raised my hands up to my shoulders without really wanting to. Swallowing with a dry throat, I took a half-step back and tried to repeat all the steps they had told us in preparation of this sort of event. None came to mind.
His eyes passed right by me, as though I wasn't standing there atop a pair of shaking legs. With a few long strides, the man walked up to the counter and tossed the bag he held onto the marble surface. He faced you, glaring as he waved you aside. "Move it," he barked before turning his attention back to the fore. Then he looked at you again and repeated the motion. "Move it."
You stepped aside and out of his line of sight. I saw him blink as you moved out and shake his head before turning to me. "Fill 'er up. Make it quick."
I popped open the cash register with trembling fingers and grabbed a double handful of bills. Pulling the bag a little closer, I filled it with every bill in the machine. It didn't take long before I was out. All day I had been handing out money and receiving very little, I was nearing the time where I would need to replenish my stock.
"That's it?" the man at the with the knife barked, waving his blade around. "Get more. Now! I'm not doing all this for some chump-change. Hurry up, or we'll start cutting people up, you hear me?"
"Yes, sir," my hoarse voice said without me willing it to speak. My tongue kept licking my parched lips and I felt as though my entire body was trying to make itself as small as it could. Somewhere, a little boy was crying in his father's arms, the sound hushed by the adult's shoulder.
I ran off to the back, pushing open the walk-in safe while fondling for my keys within my pockets. The steel doors of the box I chose popped open and I scooped out wads of bills into the bag, ignoring those that fell to the floor.
I returned in time to see the gun-bearing thief twist his revolver around, holding it by the barrel as he lifted it above his head. In a sweeping arc, he brought it back down and smashed it against the elderly man's head. A dull thud sounded out as the grizzled elder fell to the side.
You twitched, face darkening until the veins along your forehead threatened to pop. Taking a long stride forwards, you grabbed one of the poles holding up the red cordons serving as a divider. With a quick tug, you yanked the rope out, tossing it to the ground where it hung a few centimetres above the floor. Holding the pole like a baseball bat, you walked up behind the knife-holding robber.
"Hey, you," you said, your panting turning the statement into a hoarse gasp.
He began to turn, then paused and looked back to the counter, unfazed.
"Pay attention to me!" you screamed as you brought the pole swinging around.
The resonating shock that flowed through the hollow bar was almost enough to make you drop it. Your face twisted around in awe as you watched the robber fall forward. His forehead smashed into the counter before he fell to the ground at your feet.
With a groan he began to move, trying to place his hand against the ground to push himself up. His free hand reached out and picked up his dropped knife.
Pulling back your leg, you delivered three blows that crushed your toes within the loafers you wore. He began to cough, abandoning the knife to clutch at his chest while slow, wheezing breaths escaped him.
Everyone was looking at you. You were the centre of attention. Standing above the downed criminal with a bent pole in your hand and sweat running down your face. With a few quick steps back you pulled out of their line of sight, and watched as their attention turned to the bandit and their expressions changed from wonder to horror.
"Who did that?" the gunman asked as he walked towards his downed friend. His handgun was held in a firm, two handed grip, but it was pointing down, at the ground. He shifted about, looking at every person in the room in turn save for you. "Who did that?"
I pulled back, receding deeper behind the protective counter to hide myself from the armed bandit. But you just stood there, still holding the now-bent pole as though it weighed far more than a stainless steel tube should.
"I'm going to kill you guys. I'm going to kill all of you!" he screamed while raising his gun. The barrel twitched as it pointed over the counter and towards me.
With a quick dive you charged ahead, stretching out your arm with the pipe at the end of it. "Hey!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, hard and fast enough to make me jump out of my skin.
He spun, eyes widening until they twitched and stared down the length of your arm and to the pipe's tip.
You let go, letting the pipe fall while his eyes traced the slow downwards progression.
Then, with a hesitant swallow, you pulled back your off-hand and swung it towards the bandit, delivering a firm, open-handed slap to the side of his face.
He reeled back, staring at you while a deep growl escaped his throat Looking down, the bandit flicked a little switch off the side of his revolver and then spun around, searching the room. "Who hit me?" he screamed, waving the gun around.
I pulled back even more, my breath returning in quick gasps. Had he not seen you? You were still standing right there, ducking behind him. Your eyes had met. I had seen it.
With a sweeping, if ungainly hook, you cracked your elbow into the back of the robber's neck, sending him tumbling forwards. Then, raising your leg up to his height, you kicked him with your heel, sending him crashing into the ground.
The gun dropped and clattered onto the marble floor before you swiped it away and under a bench with your foot.
You stepped back, and instantly a murmur filled the room. "What happened?"
"Who did that?"
"Are we okay now?"
The customers stood out of their huddled forms like butterflies out of their cocoons. None looked your way. None recognized you or even nodded their thanks.
You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet, then back, sighing as though you had given up.
"Wait, sir," I called out just as you began to move towards the door. You paused.
"Thank you, thank you so much," I said, looking at you right in the eye.
You blinked at me, blushed, and escaped.