The Teller

With a final pat to her hair, Vicky stepped away from the mirror in the ladies’ room and opened the door. The first thing to strike her was the silence. She paused with the door half open, frozen with the wrongness of it. It was nearly 2:00 on a payday, barely half an hour until closing. The bank should be bustling. In fact, she had just finished with a line of more than 8 people prior to her break, just five minutes to adjust her pantyhose and redo her hair. So here she was, a few minutes later, and something was definitely wrong.

Feeling slightly foolish, she moved cautiously down the hall, just far enough to peer around the corner. A lobby filled with silent, huddled bodies met her eyes. The overhead mirror showed one....no, two men standing at the teller counter, dressed exactly alike.

A robbery! Oh my god.....

Vicky felt her knees weaken, and she leaned against the wall, fighting the nausea that threatened.

What will I do? What can I do?

Mixed up thoughts swirled through her mind. Memories of instructions drilled in at every bank she had ever worked for: do what they say, don’t try to stop them, cooperate.... cooperate. Amazingly enough, none of those years of instructions covered what to do if the robbers didn’t know you were there.

Maybe I should do something....call the police, or run out the back door to get help....

As soon as the thoughts came, answers followed with icy clarity.

Call how? The nearest phone is in the manager’s office, which is in plain view.... the door out back is an emergency exit only; the alarm goes off whenever it’s opened!

Trembling, she slid to the floor, stuffing her fist into her mouth to keep from sobbing out loud.


{i|Why me? I’m only a teller! I can’t fix anything....all I’m good for is balancing my cashbox, cashing other people’s checks.

A harsh voice in the back of her head answered her with cruel clarity. To make it even more annoying (and frightening) the voice sounded like her ex-husband.


That’s right, you’re a teller, you’ll always be a teller! You’re not good enough for anything else! You’re too afraid of risks, too afraid of everything. You couldn’t tell a cockroach to get lost!

The cold voice in her head was right. Even now, she cringed from the thought that she was the only one free to act. She just wasn’t a risk-taker. She was too timid, too afraid of confict. Ed had delighted in reminding her of that.

“You fucking bitch!”

Vicky jerked in response to the grating shout. Her head thumped against the wall, hard enough for her to see stars for a second. The sound of that thud was masked by the shrill scream following the obscene comment. A soft, hitching sob filtered through the hallway. Vicky didn’t quite recognize the voice (she’d never heard any of the ‘girls’ cry before), but thought it sounded like Karen. Karen was new, only a trainee, and had graduated with Vicky’s youngest daughter just this summer.

The sound tore at her, and she trembled with the feeling. Karen was the only one of her co-workers with whom she felt an actual bond. Tess and Karen were friends, not best friends, but close enough that Vicky had gotten to know Karen over the past few years. Karen was also four months pregnant, and having a rough time of it. She didn’t need this kind of stress. Biting down hard enough to leave teeth marks on her knuckles, Vicky inched forward. Every instinct cried out for her to run and hide, to lock herself in the ladies’ room until it was all over, but she just had to know. She couldn’t bear the thought of Karen being hurt, and she needed to know if everyone was all right.

They must be, she told herself, locking her eyes on that overhead mirror. They all knew the rules: cooperate and assist. The tiny figures in the mirror grew slowly larger, but not until she was even with the door of the manager’s office did the images of the tellers appear in the mirror. She knew she could look around the corner instead of looking in the mirror, she was in danger of being seen either way. But this felt safer, less real somehow. No one appeared to be moving, which seemed odd. She’d always thought of robberies as events that happened quickly, with constant motion. Noticing that Karen was standing rigidly in her window, Vicky realized Karen was too shocked to cooperate. She could just make out a red mark on one cheek.

Anger coursed through her, a very unfamiliar sensation. The last time she had felt anything remotely like this had been when Ed had kicked their cat. That feeling had been a shadow of what she felt now. Dropping her eyes from the mirror took a great effort. Looking out over the lobby, she could see Customer Service reps mingled with the customers, all of them crushed together against the check writing counter.

“I said get moving, slut!”

That terrible voice again. Vicky’s eyes flew to that mirror, just in time to see the man in front of Karen’s window leap over the panelled counter.

A vaulter, she thought distractedly...they really do that!

She’d always laughed secretly to herself at the idea. She had never been able to imagine a person “vaulting” the counter, even someone pumped up on adrenaline. At 5’3”, the 4 foot counters seemed like impassible barriers. She watched Karen shake her head, her hands held stiffly in front of her, protective of her stomach. The robber advanced on the girl, whose eyes seemed to grow larger with each menacing step. Vicky’s own eyes widened, realizing the robber intended to strike Karen again. Time seemed to slow down as she watched the black-gloved hand draw back, then with an abrupt time-shift, catapult itself against Karen’s face. A small dark line worked its way from the corner of Karen’s mouth.

Once again Vicky forced her fist into her mouth to prevent any sound from being heard. Her body shook, both with fear and with shame. There must have been a way to have prevented that! She was torn between an unbearable sense of futility, and what could only be defined as maternal instinct. She shook her head back and forth, in unconscious imitation of Karen. One clenched hand continued to muffle her sobs, while the other knotted itself in her skirt.

Why me? I’m a nobody....a no one!

That secret voice, with its cold overtones of Ed, responded, agreeing with her.

Of course you’re a nobody! You never have been! You have to have backbone to be a somebody. The police could be on their way right now! The manager’s office has a silent alarm....but you’re too scared to leave the hall!

With a start, Vicky remembered silent alarm....if she could get into the office unseen, she was small enough to hide against the decorative floor boards. Her suit was dark, almost the color of the carpet. If she was going to do anything but cower in the hall, it would have to be soon. The longer this dragged out, the better the chances someone would do something stupid and get hurt. She had seen enough of the news to know how nasty situations like this could be. Vicky closed her eyes, said a brief but heartfelt prayer, and slowly slid down to lay flat on the carpet. Craning her neck, she looked up at the mirror, and saw that the robbers were still involved with the tellers.

Gathering her courage, she raised herself to her knees and scurried in, feeling like the mice she chased around her garage with a broom. She looked at the mirror again, and saw one of the men turn around to face the crowd in the lobby. She dropped down, once again flat on her stomach. Her heart was pounding and her back was slick with sweat. At the edges of her vision, small black dots began to grow.

I can’t faint now!

She dropped her head to the carpet, counting to ten. Then she wriggled forward, moving toward the back wall. Luckily the manager had his desk set facing the teller line (Mr. Mullins liked to keep an eye on things). Angled in the corner, it sat positioned in such a fashion that she would only be exposed for a moment before she was behind the desk. As long as the other gunman was watching the people in the lobby and not looking this way, she would be safe. She clenched her teeth and scrambled for the desk, praying every second.

Safely behind the desk, tears of relief flowed down her cheeks, and she pushed the button for the silent alarm with shaking fingers. She was working her way underneath the desk, where she knew she would be safe, when she heard Karen shriek again.

“You stupid, dumb bitch! Are you deaf or something? Give me that goddamn money, before I shove this fucking gun down your throat!”

Vicky shuddered at the filth coming from the man’s mouth. She could hear the sound of blows, counting at least three, and finally Karen’s cries diminished to faint moans. She crawled out from under the desk, and peered up at the mirror. Karen’s figure was slumped between two other tellers, Lucy and Denise, and even in the distant, distorted mirror, Vicky could see that it was more than just a dark line this time.

Once again the unfamiliar feeling of anger welled up, filling her body with an adrenaline rush. She felt cold all over, and the thought of Karen’s pain was like a cattle prod. Working her way back out to the hall, she scrambled for the ladies’ room, hoping the robber on guard would continue to watch the cowering customers. She opened the door quietly, then shut it again, this time loudly enough to draw attention to the area.

“What was that?!”

This was a new voice, not quite as deep. Feet pounded her way, and she was suddenly face to face with a black-garbed woman. A woman! Then there were three robbers, not two! Her knees nearly buckled at the thought of the risk she had taken. The woman yanked her roughly along, pulling her toward the teller counters. As they approached, she could see the first man’s looming over Karen, menacing her as she lay crumpled between Lucy and Denise. Vicky couldn’t understand why he didn’t just take what he had and leave, or try to get into the vault. This man hadn’t moved from his intimidating stance over Karen. In fact he seemed to be enjoying the situation. He turned abruptly as Vicky was shoved unceremoniously through the swinging door to the teller area.

No wonder he doesn’t care....he’s insane! That or really drugged up with something.

The man’s eyes were glazed, almost staring, and his whole body seemed to twitch constantly. Vicky glanced at the woman holding her, and cringed. The woman’s eyes were just as unfocussed. The man who had been tormenting Karen reached down and grabbed her by the hair, causing her to shriek with pain.

“WAIT!” Vicky shouted, jerking back as the man dumped Karen and advanced on her.

“Please....leave her alone...I can get you into the vault...”

Vicky wrung her hands, hoping the police would be here shortly. If not, well, she was cooperating wasn’t she? She almost fell as she was momentarily hauled off her feet.

“Then do it, bitch...or I start using you as a punching bag.”

He shoved her forward, and her face connected painfully with the gate to the safe deposit area. She reached through the bars for the key, and unlocked both the inner gates. Although she didn’t have official knowledge of the combination, over the years she had seen it often enough to memorize it. In violation of bank policy, Mr. Mullins had never changed it. That was definitely a plus in this situation. Bless his laziness!

She dialed the combination with unsteady hands, spun the lock, and left the door wide open. Both the man and the woman dove for the vault, fighting over the tiny space. She backed out, trying to put as much distance between her and those people...those CRAZIES...as possible. The third robber wandered over, briefly drawing the gun over her face in some obscene caress. Looking at him, she realized he was in the same condition as the other two. She shuddered at the look on his face...god, she was 45 and he was leering at her!

Then her eyes widened with surprise as he wandered into the vault with his comrades. Was it luck? She didn’t care. She threw her weight against the heavy outer door, slamming it shut and spinning the locking handle. Sudden shouts sounded from inside, and she cringed from the sounds of their guns hammering against the door, but it was 2 1/2 feet thick, and set on a time lock. They weren’t coming out for a while. Hearing sirens in the distance, she turned around, facing the stares of her coworkers.

She mustered a small, wavering smile...and fainted.