Speech Therapy

Colin stood at the window and the blood ran cold through his veins. His heart beat faster. His fingers tightened on the shiny brass of the window handle. His body trembled from head to toe. Pellets of sweat slipped down his forehead as the truth of the moment hit him like a ton bricks.

A hole in the garden, the size of a dustbin lid, lay open in the exact place he had buried the briefcase.

He thought of all the excuses; the lies he could tell to get out of it. Insurance money? Give one reason why anyone would bury insurance money. A gift? Name the person who had given such a generous gift. His family would reject him. He will have to face the full wrath of the law. No way would his mother harbour a criminal in her home. It couldn’t be his brother, afraid-of-the-dark-Andrew. Andrew would never have dug it out of the ground at night.

A low knock on the bedroom door startled him. It was Andrew, clutching the soiled briefcase close to his chest.

'Wanna talk?’ Andrew said, with eyes wide open. He wore his usual black vest and sandals.

'C....c....come in.'

Andrew stepped inside and cautiously sat down on the edge of Colin's bed.

Colin's blue eyes drilled into Andrew. His large hands itched. He wanted to throttle him; he possessed the strength to do just that. Huge arms and legs that could kick-start a Boeing. Andrew had no business digging the briefcase out of the ground.

Colin pulled up a chair and sat opposite him, staring. Unblinking.

‘I counted 75,000 bucks.’ Andrew said. His urchin face twitched. ‘Is this a bad thing, Colin?’

Colin held his tongue for a moment. As big as he was, he had to think about each word before speaking. At school they called him Scatman. Laughed at him. At home they understood that a person who stuttered needed time to turn words into sentences. He wiped a strand of black hair away from his wet forehead. His hands trembled. He opened his mouth to speak but closed just as quickly to avoid embarrassing himself.

‘75000 bucks is a lot of money. What did you do?’ Andrew clasped the briefcase closer to his chest.

Colin buried his soccer ball face in his hands indicating that he had no words right now. Each muscle in his body hurt from the tension in the room. Andrew got up and retrieved a notebook and pen from the desk close to the window. He opened the notebook on the first blank page and handed it to Colin.

Colin held the notebook at an angle and wrote immediately with his left hand. The words slanted backwards but each letter, written in a slow, almost painstaking manner, screamed out at Andrew.

Robbed bank. 275,000

Andrew blinked. For a moment he was speechless.

‘Who exactly?’ He asked.

Steven, Gary. 'Nnnnnn m...me.'

‘Which bank?’

Does it matter?

‘Which bank, Colin?’

Can’t tell. Doesn’t matter. Deed done.

Andrew fidgeted with the handle of the briefcase. ‘Hell yes, it matters. You should take it back and hand yourself over.’

It doesn’t work that way. No one knows it was us.

'How can you be so sure?'

Balaclavas. Toy guns. Money stays!

‘It’s not your money to keep.’

It's mine. Worked hard for it. Planned a long time.

'This was your idea, wasn't it? You 're crazy enough to think something like this up.'

No. Stephen's idea.

'Stephen, huh. What was your role in this?'

Drove getaway car. Over in a few minutes. How come you know? Buried it when you & mom were shopping yesterday.

‘I lied,’ Andrew said. ‘I didn’t go with mom. You know I hate supermarkets. I watched you from my bedroom window and dug it up this morning just before you woke up. You were supposed to be on holiday when you did this. You kept this briefcase in the house all this time?’

It suddenly dawned on Colin that he didn’t have to answer any more questions. He had said enough. If Gary and Steven got wind of this, there’s no telling what they would do. They had promised to keep it a secret between themselves. He had certainly jeopardized his future. No one wanted to employ a stutterer. Andrew had everything. Spoiled brat with his better than thou attitude. But how? He didn’t own a gun. Maybe he should just kill Andrew, then he wouldn’t have to suffer at the hands of his accomplices when they found out. A knife would do it, but he’d have to clean up the mess afterwards. He could cut him up and dump the pieces in remote areas where no-one would find them. He’d make sure mom understood that Andrew had run away. Easier said than done. He wasn’t a killer. But what alternative was there? Andrew knew too much.

‘I’ve seen that look in your eyes before, Colin. That glazed, hazy look. It’s the same look you had when mom and dad divorced. You never spoke a word for months after that. What are you thinking?’

Colin remained silent; he raised his chin and levelled his nose sighting down its length at Andrew with his clear, blue eyes.

‘I mean, look at you.’ Andrew said, ‘You look like a shipwreck. Huge brown bags under your eyes. Greasy hair. You need a haircut by the way. And when last did you shower? You stink. But I think I know what it is…You. Are. Scared. Shitless. You don’t know when the cops’ll come knocking. Take you away. Embarrass us as a family. You don’t know if you’ll spill the beans on your mates. You don’t know shit about the future, do you? You’re wondering whether I’m going to squeal. Maybe the bank will give me a reward. A financial reward. You fear what you don’t know, Colin.’

Colin scribbled on the notepad: SHUTUP! He pointed at the words, angrily and repeatedly, fire in his eyes.

Andrew opened the briefcase and turned the money onto the bed. The notes, fresh and crisp in their paper money holders.

A stream of memories filled Colin's mind: the soccer games in the garden. Splashing each other with water from the hosepipe on hot days. Fighting over ice-creams. Laughing during horror movies. All this had come to pass. During this last year of school, he and Andrew had drifted apart. Andrew had started his own business, selling books at markets on weekends, while Colin had nothing to fall back on. Jobs were scarce. The economy had taken its toll on the family since Dad had died. Mom struggled to support them and downscaled by selling their large house to rent this one. Times were tough.

‘I’m sorry, Colin. But I’ve told mom already.’

Colin scrambled for the notepad and pressed down so hard with the pen that it tore through the paper.

What?!!!!!Why? I would have shared. WHY?

Andrew smiled at him. ‘She found me digging the hole this morning on her way to work. I told her that its for a tree I want to plant.’

Colin breathed a sigh of relief. He wrote: What?

'So. Are you going to return this money, or what?"

No! Told you.

Andrew's brown eyes drilled right through Colin. ‘In that case I want half.’

‘Half! N….n….n….no way. A kwa…kwa...kwa quarter f...for your ssssssssilence.’

‘A quarter? Hmmm. Fine.' He pivoted on the bed, as if to leave, but turned back with a smirk. 'One other thing. Next time, count me in.’



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