The Macedonia Hotel, Chapter 8
The Macedonia Hotel
A NANOWRIMO
Relay writing project
By the Wayne writers Guild
Completed July 2016
The Macedonia Hotel
(This fictional piece is the product of a relay writing project by the Wayne Writer’s Guild In honor of NANOWRIMO-2015. Any resemblance to real events, people, places, or things is a coincidence and neither intended nor implied to be real and accurate.)
I extend my thanks and gratitude to the contributors who shared their time and talents to make this NANOWRIMO Relay Writing Project possible.
The individual chapters are the intellectual property of the author.
Special thanks are extended to John Cieslinski for his generous use of the book store’s back room.
–Kate Chamberlin, Coordinating Editor
July 20, 2016
Wayne Writers Guild
Meets at 7:30pm – 9:00pm, on the 2nd and 4th. Tuesday of each month
Books, Etc. of Macedon, NY
John Cieslinski, Owner
78 W. Main ST. Macedon NY 14502
Phone 585-474-4116
Chapter 8
Frank’s Plan
By Alex S. Reid
They sat drinking coffee and enjoying a cheeseburger with extra fries at the Hungry House Cafe.
Frank was tall, slim, and serious looking. He wore glasses and had a wild mop of graying hair. His blue dungaree jacket matched his jeans. He was the more adventurous of the two. Ryan was quieter, more thoughtful, and slow to make decisions. He was twenty pounds overweight with a chubby, red face, and a shaved head. He fiddled nervously with a plastic spoon.
These two guys, old friends from High School, were broke, unemployed and divorced. One had two daughters in Nursing School; the other had a son in the Military. They had a few things in common, such as, they were both in their early fifties and real losers. For a number of reasons, good fortune had somehow passed them by.
“Ever wonder where we went wrong?” Frank asked, while still chewing and watching a pretty waitress wiping off nearby tables. “We had big plans, remember? Neither of us were the sharpest knife in the drawer, but not the dumbest either.”
“Yeah right,” Ryan agreed. “I was a pretty good mechanic. Remember that old ’59 Chevy Impala? I bought it for next to nothing, rebuilt the engine and transmission, sold it and made a bundle. So where are we going Frank? How come we are such failures?” Ryan asked, as ketchup ran down his chin.
Frank passed him a napkin, and then continued. “Where are we going? Well I have a plan. It’s pretty obvious we need to make changes in our lives. Hell we’ve used up most of it already and here we sit, feeling sorry for ourselves. I live in a rented Mobile home. When it rains I catch water in a bucket from my leaking roof. Then there’s you, living in the rat-infested, ramshackle Macedonia Hotel with a bunch of weirdo’s. Hell, you’re probably the most normal tenant. So, we need to make dramatic changes. Ones that will make us rich…and fast. How are we gonna do that? Very simple. We rob a bank,” Frank said leaning back and waiting.
Ryan gave a look of sheer disbelief. “Yeah sure. Why the hell not. We need a little excitement, right? Let’s get the cops to chase us down the street like Butch
Cassidy and the Sundance Kid.”
“I mean it,” Frank continued. “Listen, I’ve figured it all out. Spent weeks working out the details. I’ve cased the bank and even studied other bank jobs. The successful ones, and those which were not. The secret is all in the planning. Our bank job will work. It’s the perfect location: quiet, low traffic, no cops, ideal for a quick getaway,” said Frank.
“Oh God, he’s really serious. Listen to him. He invites me to The Hungry Café for a burger and now he’s talking me into knocking over a bank?” Ryan said, holding his head with both hands in a gesture of exasperation.
“Here’s my plan,” Frank continued. “We buy a wheelchair from Goodwill for say $30. Clean it so we don’t leave any fingerprints. I’m dressed as an old lady wearing a dress and a white wig. I’m pushing your wheelchair. You’re disguised in a hat, obviously to cover that bald head. Plus a beard, sunglasses and a huge white foot bandage. That’s a clever distraction so everyone feels sorry for you. We wait patiently in line. Then we hand the teller a note telling her to fill our black plastic bag with twenties, tens and fives. We show the teller our gun. Once our bag is filled I drop it on your lap then wheel you out the door. We then dump the wheelchair and your foot bandage and ride skate boards around the block. We then dump the skate boards, old lady’s dress and plastic bag with the money in a garbage can. We then stop in the nearby McDonald’s for coffee and a cheeseburger then sit and watch as cops drive around like crazy stopping cars and throwing up road blocks. We sit and wait until everything has quieted down, stroll outside, collect our money from the trash can, stuff it into my back pack, and head home. Is that brilliant or what?” Frank stopped, smiled, took a deep breath and waited for his friend’s response.
“Are you done?” Ryan asked. “Are you out of your small mind? Have you any idea how many things could go wrong? We’d get twenty years if we got caught. Armed robbery? Listen, I’m too good looking to go to prison. Those cons would pass me around like a peace pipe. You think our lives are miserable now? Try prison life?”
“I knew you’d find fault with my idea for getting rich,” Frank said. “You’re too negative. You have to learn to trust my judgment.”
Ryan grinned nervously. “Trust you? Are you crazy? He wants me to trust a guy who’s planning on robbing a bank. Listen. Maybe you are ugly enough to survive twenty years in jail, but not me. Sorry buddy, count me out. No sir, no thanks. I’ll take my chances flipping hamburgers.”
“That’s exactly the reason you were never successful. You’re too negative. You never learned to think outside the box. You have to be creative, use your imagination.” Frank said.
“Oh yeah. Well, imagine this. Fifteen hundred violent hairy cons in Attica. Tattoos, pumping iron, muscles like Schwarzenegger, haven’t seen a woman in years, and suddenly you are thrown in amongst them like raw meet in a lion’s cage. What are your chances? God I hate to think about it. No imagination you say? Oh boy, yes I do and it’s a damned nightmare. I’m sorry friend but I’m staying back at the Macedonia Hotel collecting my unemployment. I may have a few really strange neighbors, weird noises at night and even a ghost or two but its home. And what’s even stranger, I like the place,” Ryan said, standing suddenly before grabbing his jacket and heading out the door.
Author Bio:
Alex Reid has written stories since a small boy. His submissions to magazines met with ridicule, scorn and rejection. Finally, he self-published two books which he gives away to friends. Who’d buy them?
Mary, his wife of 53 years, is still his best friend. They have two sons, seven grandchildren, and a great-grandson. Retired, they live nearby in their old farmhouse on three acres of woods, fruit trees, wild flowers, and overgrown weeds.
areid3@rochester.rr.com
Wayne Writers Guild
Meets at 7:30pm – 9:00pm, on the 2nd and 4th. Tuesday of each month
Books, Etc. of Macedon, NY
John Cieslinski, Owner
78 W. Main ST. Macedon NY 14502
Phone 585-474-4116