At the sound of the tone...

T.R. is the maintenance man at the bank. He loves teller number four. 

 

“My name is Alina. How may I help you?” 

 

He likes the way she twists her legs around her stool. And the way her voice goes up at the end of every sentence.

 

“How would you like your bills?”

 

Bank employees are not allowed to use their cell phones during work hours. T.R. leaves Alina anonymous messages.

 

“If I got lost at sea, would you wait for me?”

 

Click.

 

T.R. mops the marble floors at three o clock every day. He strikes subtle poses for Alina – boyfriend poses, husband poses, lift with the knees poses.   “She will love me” he whispers, like a prayer. 

 

Sometimes T.R. pretends he and Alina are married and the bank is their home. He plunges the toilet. He kills window spiders. He moves the heavy furniture. He mows the lawn. 

 

“If my plane was shot down, would you look for me?” 

 

Click.

 

T.R. hates the bank manager. 

 

“It has come to my attention that someone is using bank phones to make prank calls. The perpetrator will be prosecuted. Thank you for your attention. Mr. Covan, Bank Manager.”

 

Mr. Covan is not short. He is not old. He is not fat. His personality and cologne fill the bank, even when he takes a day off. 

 

T.R. hates the sound of Mr. Covan’s voice.

 

“Have you heard the one about the fish who walks into a bar?”

 

T.R. has noticed Mr. Covan lingering at window four, often. He’s striking poses – flirting poses, I’m rich and important poses, let’s have sex poses.

 

Alina’s leg’s twist and her voice sounds high and full of giggles whenever Mr. Covan is around.   

 

“When I die, will you visit my grave?”

 

Click.

 

T.R. hasn’t cleaned Mr. Covan’s office for more than a week; instead, he snoops. One day he finds Alina’s phone number on a post-it-note. He put his hand on his chest, feeling his heart skipping. 

 

This morning, T.R. overhears bank tellers two and three commenting about Alina and Mr. Covan’s date the previous night. He draws a quick breath.

 

T.R. walks to his car, sits in the driver’s seat. He listens to the radio. He smokes a cig. He grabs the shotgun.

 

Walking back into the bank, gun in one hand, cell phone in the other, T.R. dials Alina’s cell phone. 

 

Bank employees and customers are striking poses – oh my God poses, don’t shoot poses, find the nearest exit poses.

 

T.R. approaches window four and looks Alina in the eyes. Her cell phone beeps, he leaves a message:

 

“If I go to jail, will you visit me?”

 

Click.

 

Mr. Covan and the security guard enter the lobby at the same moment from opposite doors. T.R. aims his shotgun at Mr. Covan’s face. The security guard aims his gun at the back of T.R.’s head.

 

Two shots are fired.

Reviews

[HoWiE]

Yeh this is a cool piece of writing. I liked the short choppiness of the sentences and the rather bleak outlook the whole piece has. You know right from the off that T.R. doesn't have a chance with Alina, most likely she doesn't even notice him and you know that this is going end horribly - it's a car crash watched in slow-motion. I'm reading 'The Road' by Cormac McCarthy at the moment and the starkness of your writing reminds me a bit of the style he's used in his book. Nicely written mate and congrats on winning the contest. Cheers!

[J.A.Thompson]

I thought that this was great! the outcome for T.R. seems bleak from the start, yet in a way that makes you want to read. creative in the telling, and story seems choppy, but in a crisp kind of way. as for the ending, i loved it.

great read, thanks for entering in my contest.

[Gary H]

Great writing. Interesting that you could mix it up and still have a concentrated rhythm going on as long as you kept the phone messages in sequence. Ending with the first two lines would really freak readers out.

[Gabriella]

I love this story, everything from the disturbed main character to the detached, frank way of writing. My favorite part is about "poses." I wouldn't change a thing.