Hoo's That

Hoo's That

By Cleve Taylor

David's heart was pounding in his chest and he was perspiring despite the sixty-degree weather. He had spent weeks surveilling the store and old Mr. Harrison's routine when he closed his Five and Ten Store on Saturdays at eight and walked his weekly deposit the two blocks to the night depository attached to the front of the First Mercantile Bank of Marion.

From the recessed doorway to the real estate office where David waited, Mr. Harrison would not be visible to David until he was only a few feet away. So, Jody, David's best buddy since preschool, was positioned across the street in the city park so he could signal David if police or other people were nearby.

His plan was to step in behind Mr. Harrison, threaten him with his BB pistol, which to an inexperienced eye looked just like an army 45 caliber handgun, grab his bank deposit bag, and run as fast as his sixteen-year-old legs could carry him through the alley by the real estate office to Pearl Street where his bicycle was stashed. He considered it appropriate that he was wearing a mask that looked like the President that the old man constantly complained about. Who better to rob him?

David had never stolen anything before, except for the time he pocketed a Mounds Almond bar when he was shopping at the Piggly Wiggly with his mother. But the fear he had felt as he walked out of the store knowing he was stealing had been so traumatic that he never stole again. In fact, he never ate the candy bar. He ended up throwing it out the back door to the birds.

But now it is different. Back then he had a father and a mother. Now, thanks to Camel cigarettes and lung cancer, he only had a mother. Though she worked sixty hours a week, minimum wage was insufficient to pay the bills, and David's earnings from his morning paper route were hardly enough to pay for occasional lunches at school.

David had seen the threatening letters from bill collectors. Their five-year-old Chevy had been repossessed, and his mother had to walk the two miles to her cleaning job. And he heard the sobs coming from her bedroom each night and saw how skinny she was beginning to look in her aging clothes.

Jody's mom was aware of David's situation and several times a week David ate at Jody’s house. But they never talked about the difficulties facing David and his mom. "How's your mom doing?" Jody's mom would ask. "She's doing fine." David would lie. Pride too often prevents communication. That same pride kept him from participating in the free meals program provided by the school. Only the poor kids ate the free meals. David was not that hungry.

David looked at the watch his father used to wear. It was right at eight o'clock and Mr. Harrison would be locking up any minute now. David pulled the latex mask of the President down over his head, and instinctively edged further back against the recessed door.

Then he heard Jody's signal. From the park across the street came the clear hoot hoot of a barn owl, a perfect imitation David thought. Someone was nearby; the robbery was aborted. David quickly removed his mask and put it into the pocket of his jacket. In the other pocket, his BB pistol hung heavily. He put a hand in the pocket with the pistol so it would not hang weirdly, and sauntered out of the doorway only yards in front of Mr. Harrison.

A little startled, Mr. Harrison hesitated until he recognized David. "David? David Pearson? Is that you?"

David stopped and turned around. "Oh, Hi, Mr. Harrison. All through for the night?"

"Yes. It's been a long week. I'm just going down to the bank. Why don't you walk with me? There's something I've been meaning to ask you."

Mr. Harrison told David that he had decided to hire a student to help him after school every day and on Saturdays. "Would you be interested in the job?"

David would. And yes, he could start Monday. "Thank you, Mr., Harrison. Thank you." They shook hands, and David just barely kept from skipping as he walked away to pick up his bike.

David went to the park and met up with Jody. "I am glad you signaled," David said, and told Jody about his new job.

"I didn't signal," Jody replied. Then, as if he were part of the conversation, the barn owl perched high in the oak tree not ten feet away called out, "Hoo, Hoo."

Realizing what had happened, David shouted, "Thank you Mr. Owl," and he and Jody rode their bikes toward home.