The Bank Job

A bank had a need for a computer technician who could link all of the computers at the bank to a new network. The bank manager had been instructed by the computer company managing the job to list all essential bank codes in printed format in a separate, secure place temporarily while all of the computers at the bank were being added to the new network. Once the network was set up, the bank manager was instructed to destroy the printed list of codes immediately, to avoid a breach of security at the bank should the list get into the wrong hands.

The computer technician arrived at the bank to link the bank computers one at a time to the new network. The computer technician, whose name was Raul Santiago, was a single man in his mid-fifties who lived alone in a bleak apartment in the heart of El Paso, Texas. Raul was lonely and suffered from bouts of mild depression that he hid behind a cheerful demeanor when working with clients. His job and the regard the computer company had for him for his thoroughness and expertise were all that kept Raul going at times.

Raul greeted the bank manager with the same sunny disposition with which he greeted all of his company’s clients, another reason for the high regard his employer paid him. It was decided that Raul would begin his work in the bank manager’s office, with the bank manager’s computer.

The bank manager left Raul to his work while he went next door to the coffee shop to buy each staff member their preferred brew that they drank each day before the bank opened its doors to the public at 9:00 a.m. After the bank manager had left, Raul realized he’d left his smallest screwdriver in the truck, and rather than delay the start of the project, he checked the top drawer of the bank manager’s desk to see if he could find a screwdriver that was small enough.

There was no screwdriver, but instead, Raul’s eyes fell on a little black notebook. He did not know why but looking up to see if anyone was watching first, Raul opened the little black notebook. The first thing he saw was a list of codes. With his heart in his mouth, he gazed at the first code: 1414 23R 62L 39R.

Raul looked up again and saw the head teller opening the gate and coming out of the tellers’ area behind the long counter. Was she coming in his direction? Raul quickly closed first the little black notebook and then the drawer of the desk.

The rest of the day was routine for Raul, but his heart raced as he worked on each computer one after the other. He knew there was a computer kept in the bank vault. Would he be left alone there to bring it, the last computer on which he would work, onto the network? Raul did not dare to think about what he might do if he was left alone in the bank vault.

In a few hours, all of the computers were on the network except for the last one located in the vault. Raul informed the bank manager he was ready to work on the last computer and that then the job would be done. The bank manager walked to the vault with Raul, saying that the bank was required to keep the vault door closed except when someone entered or exited it, but to not worry because the vault only locked from the outside and was never locked when someone was inside it.

As the vault door clanged shut, Raul could not believe that he was left inside the vault alone, even though for most visitors to the vault, the rows of locks on the safe-deposit boxes caused no anxiety or anticipation because they held only the combination to their own lockbox.

First checking for a camera, Raul again could not believe his luck. But what if there was a video system that did not require a camera inside the closed vault? Raul had come this far with the idea that had not formed itself as thought but was fully-formed in his sub-conscious.

Without thinking of anything except the code, Raul searched the rows for the number 1414. He then applied the combination that had played over and over in his mind all day long. The safe deposit box opened. In it was a single envelope, and in that envelope was cash-a lot of cash.

Without counting the cash, Raul quickly lifted the inside tray of his tool chest and slipped the envelope neatly under the tools. It fit perfectly. Surely this was meant to be. Something to lighten the heavy burden that was Raul’s loneliness and feelings of smallness.

Raul completed the job, testing the entire network once the last computer in the vault was brought onto it. Saying his goodbyes, Raul headed to his truck. Having completed his workday, he would head straight back to his apartment. He was too excited to stop somewhere to eat along the way, something he normally did because then he did not have to go out again to eat once he was settled into his apartment and safe for the night.

Raul laid all of the bills out on his bed and counted them again and again. There was $20,000 in all. He finally gathered all of the bills back into the envelope which he placed in the back of the drawer to his nightstand.

Raul stayed up later than usual because he knew he would not sleep. When he finally fell into bed, exhaustion overcame him. Or was it depression? He hardly knew the difference because they were so similar.

As the new day began, the exhaustion did not go away. Nor did it go away during the first day after the day of the bank job. Raul laughed to himself. It was a bank job in more ways than one. But still the exhaustion lingered. What was this?

For several days, Raul could not shake the feeling of complete exhaustion. He could not muster his usual friendly greetings to customers, but instead went slowly about his work, having to think about each movement and taking twice as long as usual to complete a job.

After two weeks of this, Raul could not take it anymore. He couldn’t eat. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t even think clearly. It must be the money, he had thought. He was not a criminal, he thought to himself. It was luck. He deserved the money. He needed it. It would make him happy. But would it?

In the eyes of the law, he was a criminal, Raul thought to himself. Yes, he was a criminal. He did not deserve the money. It wasn’t his. He did not need the money and it made him more miserable than ever, not happier. He had to take it back. He had to speak to the bank manager. He had to face the consequences of being a common thief.

Raul arrived at the bank with the envelope in full view in his hands and asked for the bank manager. The bank manager took a moment to recall who Raul was—I was that small to him, Raul thought. Upon remembering Raul, the bank manager escorted Raul to his office.

Explaining what had happened, Raul added that the bank manager would need to call the police so that they could make the arrest. The bank manager opened the envelope and counted the money. He then looked up at Raul. Raul noticed for the first time that the bank manager had kind eyes.

Then the bank manager said softly, “Mr. Santiago, the money is all accounted for. No one has been in that lockbox for some time, so the disappearance of the money was not noticed. The little black notebook has been destroyed. I would like to do the same with the heavy burden you have carried if you will allow me. I say we keep this to ourselves. I will return the money to the lockbox. No one will know.

“Why?” Raul asked. The bank manager replied. “This money was raised by an old woman who like you, was alone and had little in this world in the way of material things. She intended to use it to help the children at the border. But then she died. The money is now in limbo until it is determined what can be done with it legally. I believe you are a good man who made a mistake. If it were not so, you would have kept the money. I forgive you, Mr. Santiago.”

Raul Santiago left the bank that day with a new understanding of what he must do. Within a few weeks, he had switched to part-time at work, and with the small savings he had, Raul Santiago had opened a storefront office and had devoted his computer skills, his free time, and his life to finding ways to end the suffering and unjust treatment of children coming across the border from Mexico into the United States.