Bank Job by James Heneghan

home soon after.
    â€œWe’re almost ready,” Janice told him as she kissed him hello. “Want to call the guys?”
    â€œSurprise!” we all yelled as the boys entered the kitchen.
    â€œHappy birthday, Billy,” said Janice.
    Billy’s usually sleepy eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. He raked his hair away from his face and grinned. “For me?” he said. “I didn’t think anyone would remember my birthday.”
    â€œHow could we forget one of our favorite kids in the whole world,” Janice said, giving him a hug. “Happy fifteenth, dear.”
    Joseph shook his hand solemnly, then grabbed him in a jolly bear hug. “Happy birthday, big guy.” He handed him a small package wrapped in shiny green paper. “This is from Janice and me.”
    Billy ripped off the wrapping. “Cool!” he said. “A digital watch! Thanks a lot.”
    â€œIt’s got an alarm,” Janice told him. “So no more excuses for being late or sleeping in.”
    Lisa pushed me forward. I got the bag from the chair. “This is from Lisa and me.”
    It was bizarre how shy I was feeling. He’d probably hate the jacket. He’d think it was just some grungy old thing.
    Billy looked into the bag and pulled out the card. “Did you paint this yourself?” he asked Lisa.
    â€œOf course!” She laughed, excited.
    â€œCool,” he said, grinning at her. “Thanks.” He bent and kissed her on the cheek.
    Then he emptied the bag onto his chair. He took a step back like he was in shock. “No way!” he breathed. “No fantastical way!” He pulled on the jacket, and, as I had thought, it fitted him perfectly. He zipped it up and put a hand into one of the pockets. He shook his head and stroked the front, and for a moment he seemed to be in a daze. Then he said in a quiet voice, “My dad. He had a jacket just like this one. Same kind of pockets. Same smell. A big giant guy, he was. Rode a motorcycle. He used to give me rides around the block when I was real small. Haven’t seen him since he…” His voice trailed off.
    Silence.
    â€œHey, guys. Lasagna’s growing cold,” Janice said quickly. “Let’s eat.”
    Billy nodded and looked at me. Seemed to me his eyes were a little damp? “Thanks, Nell,” he said. His voice was husky. “Thanks a lot.” He turned to Lisa. “Thanks, Princess.”
    It was a lovely birthday supper.

SEVENTEEN
    APRIL 25
    Less than a week later, I was standing with Billy outside the Canadian Imperial Bank on Broadway. Tom was in position around the corner on Commercial Drive.
    It was raining—as usual.
    When we had cased the bank a few days ago, I saw that there was no place out of the rain, so I had borrowed an umbrella from Janice when I left for school. Billy and I were sheltered under it as we waited.
    If I looked up, I could see the elevated SkyTrain track over Ninth Avenue. Broadway station was only yards away. Tucked under my left arm was my brown shopping bag, handles to the top.
    Billy watched the bank, waiting for a good time to go in. The street was busy with people coming and going to the SkyTrain station or shopping along Broadway. A panhandler on the other side of the street, filthy red scarf knotted around his neck, sat on the step outside Shoppers Drug Mart, oblivious to the rain. An old woman stopped and asked Billy something. I couldn’t hear over the traffic noises. She leaned her umbrella out of the way so as not to poke him in the eye. Billy pointed toward the train station and said something to the woman. She nodded and moved away.
    We waited a while longer, and then Billy leaned toward me and said, “It’s time,” and headed into the bank.
    I waited, shifting from one foot to the other. It was a cold day, but I was starting to sweat as usual inside my raincoat.
    A bus roared by and I suddenly felt my shopping bag