Dave Zeltserman: Outsourced

“What the fuck!”

“Hey, schmuck, you’re a bank robber right? You should be prepared for shit like that.”

“You asshole.”

“I’m the asshole? You come here trying to convince me to join you in a bank robbery? Look at you, you’re not even prepared to take a punch and you’re going to rob a bank?”

“Try it again.”

“I don’t think so. You’re ready for it now. But that’s the thing, you try doing something stupid like what you’re thinking and anything can happen. And as you just showed, you don’t have the instincts to handle what might come your way. Let me get you some ice.”

Joel filled a plastic bag with ice from the freezer and returned to the table. Dan sat back down and stewed silently as he took the bag and held it against his cheek. Thoughts of how dire his situation had become kept him frozen in his chair.

“So did I knock some sense into you?”

“You could’ve pulled your punch. I think you broke something.”

“Quit your whining. I didn’t break anything. And quit daydreaming about robbing banks. You’re a software engineer, remember?”

Shifting his eyes upward to meet Joel’s, Dan shook his head. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Neither are you. Maybe we used to be, but we’re not any more. And they’ve locked the doors shut on us.”

“Go ahead and believe that all you want. I don’t.” Joel absent-mindedly moved his hand to his jaw and started massaging it.

“You know damn well it’s true. Any JAVA certificate you get might as well be printed on toilet paper for all the good it’s going to do you.”

“If you really believe that, go back to school for something else!”

Again Dan had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling out: What good would that do? I’m going blind! Instead, very calmly, he said, “For what? Even if I had the money for that, which I don’t, tell me what I can get a degree in where they’ll hire me out of school when I’m in my fifties.”

“This is fucking ridiculous.”

“Joel, you’ve worked on projects with me. Have I ever screwed up?”

“This is not the same thing.”

“I beg to differ. How about hearing me out and then making up your mind?”

Joel opened his mouth to argue but instead blew out a lungful of air. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped behind his head. Very softly, “Go ahead.”

Dan took the ice away from his face and placed it on the table. He opened his briefcase and methodically went over his plan. As Joel listened his attitude shifted from reluctant humoring to a grudging respect. At the end a glint of interest shone in his eyes, his tongue darting across his lips as he thought it over. “I have to admit it could work,” he said. “You sure as fuck did your homework. Everything you told me is on the level?”

“Yep.”

Joel leaned further back in his chair, his eyes glazing while he rubbed a thumb across his lips. He sat like that for a minute mulling over what Dan had told him, and all at once straightened in his seat, his eyes hard on Dan, his face flushing a deep red. “You stupid schmuck,” he swore, his voice barely a rasp. “You’re planning to bring Gordon into this, aren’t you? Are you out of your mind?”

“This won’t work without Gordon. Just like it won’t work without you.”

“Are you crazy? It won’t work with Gordon period! The guy can’t keep his mouth shut for five minutes.” Joel brought his hand to his mouth and began pulling at his bottom lip. “I think the guy’s a borderline psycho.”

“Gordon’s fine. Trust me, okay?”

“Have you talked to him about this yet?”

“No-”

“Well, don’t!”

“You think I would’ve worked with Gordon off and on for almost twenty years if I couldn’t trust him? The guy served a tour in Vietnam. He knows how to handle himself. And the plan doesn’t work without him. You can see that, can’t you?”

“If he’s involved you can count me out. I’m sure as hell not betting my life on that loon!”

“Calm down, okay? Gordon will be fine. He’s a smart guy. And I need four people in the bank for this to work. All we need is ten minutes. That’s it. And I have no problem betting my life that Gordon can keep quiet for ten minutes.”

“What about after? With the way he talks?”

“He’ll never say a word to anyone about this. Have you ever heard him say anything of substance about what went on in Vietnam?”

Joel thought about it and shook his head slowly. “I still don’t like it,” he complained. A glint came into his eyes. “You mentioned four people for this job. Who’s the fourth?”

“A friend of mine. We’ve been working together for the last five years. You don’t know him. He’s Indian. As soon as the job’s done, he’s heading to India. Which is perfect for us.”

“How much of this does he know?”

“As much as I do. We’ve been planning this together for the last six weeks. And, yeah, I trust him. Any more questions?”

“I still don’t like the idea of Gordon being involved.”

“He’ll say the same when I tell him about you.”

“I haven’t committed to anything yet! And he can say whatever he wants. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s at least one can short of a six-pack.”

“Joel, why don’t we play another couple of games of ’gammon and not talk about this. Just let it sink in, see how you feel.”

“All right, fine.”

They played in silence after that. After losing three straight games due to poor play, Joel threw his dice into the adjoining dining room. “Motherfucking cunt dice,” he yelled. He took a deep breath and let it out noisily through his mouth.

“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Serious enough that I’ve been practicing stealing cars.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” Joel said. “If we try to rob that bank and something goes wrong, your life’s over, pal. Me, I don’t have a wife, I don’t give a shit about my kids, and I can handle living out my life in prison. You’d be throwing your family away, and I hate to tell you this, but you wouldn’t last a year in prison. I’m not trying to insult you, Dan, but the simple fact is you’re not tough enough to survive there.”

“Nothing’s going to go wrong.”

“What if something does?”

“Then we’re fucked. Yeah, sure, anything can happen. But we’re guaranteed to be fucked if we don’t try this.”

“Does Carol know any of this?”

“No.”

“Is she going to?”

“No. Never. How about it, Joel, are you in?”

Joel shook his head slowly for a moment, grimacing. “I’ll think about it,” he said after a while.

Shrini flexed his right arm as he sneaked a look at himself in one of the gym’s mirrors. He worked out regularly and took a great deal of pride in his appearance. Now, though, there was more to it than that. With the bank robbery only one week away he had to prepare himself, get as strong as possible.

He caught another quick look in the mirror as he pushed a hand against his stomach, feeling the flatness of it. Satisfied, he moved to one of the open benches and slid forty-five- and twenty-five-pound plates on to each end of the bar. With the bar weighing forty-five pounds, that put the weight at one hundred and eighty-five pounds. He sat down on the end of the bench and then lay back, adjusting his position so he could properly grip the bar. Sucking in his breath, he pulled the bar from the rack and let it bounce off his chest once as he proceeded to do twelve quick repetitions before dropping the bar back on to the rack.

As soon as he finished the set, he sat back up and wiped a towel along his forehead and neck. He stood up and replaced the twenty-five-pound plates with forty-five-pound ones, bringing the weight to two hundred and twenty-five pounds. He sat back on the bench and shook his arms, trying to psych himself up for his next set. As he sat there, his thoughts drifted to the robbery and to his plans for afterwards.