Twice Tempted by William Manchee

Four

On Thursday when I arrived at work, several men were in Mr. Sinclair's office. When I went to pick up my keys, Jim motioned that he wanted to talk to me. I went over to him and said, "What's up?"

"Mr. Sinclair wants to see you."

"Why?"

"I don't know there's some kind of investigation going on and he wants to talk to you. I think the FBI is here."

"The FBI? Why would they want to talk to me?"

"It beats me lad, just go find out."

I walked to the end of the motor pool, climbed up the loading dock and entered Sinclair's office. Two men dressed identically in dark grey suits, blue ties and spit shined shoes were sitting on Sinclair's desk. Mr. Sinclair was standing in the corner so I walked in and interrupted them.

"Jim said you wanted to talk to me."

"Yes," said Sinclair. This is Agent Harper and Agent Walters from the Federal Bureau of Investigation."

I extended my arm to agent Harper and we shook hands. "Pleased to meet you," I said.

I did the same to Agent Walters and then asked them. "What can I do for you?"

Sinclair continued, "Agent Harper and Walters want to ask you some questions."

"About what?"

"They will tell you. Why don't you go with them downstairs to the conference room?"

My curiosity was aroused by all of this mystery and suspense. I followed Harper and Walters into the elevator and we descended deep into the earth to the bank's Data Processing Center. This was the first time I had been allowed down there as ordinarily it was off limits.

As we stepped out of the elevator, I noticed several large conveyor belts used to carry the bags we brought in each night to tables where the items were sorted. I could see several large main frame computers in the distance. Dozens of employees were hard at work sorting checks, imputing data and operating the big computers. Harper motioned to me to enter a small room with a round walnut table and four chairs. Harper then said, "Please have a seat."

"If you don't mind Mr. Fuller, we are going to tape this interview," Harper said.

I shrugged. "Okay."

"Mr. Sinclair tells us that you run the North Beach Route."

"That's right. I just started last night as a matter of fact."

"That's what we're interest in."

"Did you stop at the Venice Beach Branch last night?" Harper said.

"Well yeah, that’s my last stop."

"Did you see anything unusual?"

"No, except the bags were late."

"Who was there when you arrived?"

"Clifford. . . Harold Clifford. I believe that’s what he said his name was. I think he said he was the Cashier."

"What did he look like?"

"He was maybe 6 feet, 220 lbs., black hair, brown eyes and he had a mustache."

"What did he say to you?"

"He told me to have a seat it would be a few minutes?"

"What did you do while you waited?"

"I went into the kitchen and had a coke."

"What happened next?"

"Well, I got tired of waiting and went into the lobby to see if the bags were ready yet. As I walked toward the teller's window I overheard Mr. Clifford arguing with a teller about something. I couldn't hear what it was all about."

"What did the girl look like?"

"She was short, a little plump with red hair. I didn't get a good look at her."

"What happened then?"

"The bags were ready a few minutes later and I left. Oh yeah . . . one kind of strange thing happened. Clifford walked me out to the door, let me out and then locked the door behind me."

"Why was that unusual?" Harper asked.

"It has never happened before. I have my own key and I always let myself in and out. I've never been escorted out of the bank before. It was almost like he had never seen a messenger before."

"Did you report this strange behavior to anyone?"

"No. It wasn't that strange and it was my first night on the job so I didn't know if Mr. Clifford always did that or what."

"Do you know a messenger named Jake?"

"Jake? . . . Yeah. He used to have my route. I rode with him the first day."

"Did anything unusual happen the day you rode with him?"

"No, other than he wasn't very friendly."

"Well thank you for your help, Mr. Fuller."

"You're welcome, but just for curiosity sake why all the questions?"

"We are conducting an investigation of some irregularities at the Venice Branch. That's all I can tell you at this time."

"Okay, nice meeting both of you."

"Oh, one more thing Fred, Sinclair is going to assign you to another route," Harper said.

"Why?"

"It's possible you might be needed as a witness so we don't want you to have any contact with Mr. Clifford for a while."

"Okay, whatever."

I went back upstairs and took off on my route. When I got to the Venice branch, everyone was gone. I went inside, got the bag and then went back out to my car. I tried to reconstruct every minute of the previous night to see if there was anything I had forgotten but nothing popped into my mind. When I got back to the motor pool, the place was buzzing with excitement. A rumor was out that the cashier at the Venice Branch had been embezzling money from the bank. The word was that one of the tellers had discovered it just minutes before I walked in the day before. The heated discussion I heard was the cashier trying to convince the teller to keep her mouth shut.

That night I called Maria and told her about the excitement of the day and that I might be called as a witness. She was concerned about me getting involved and said she wished I hadn't seen anything.

When I went to bed that night I was so keyed up I couldn't get to sleep. Eventually I dozed off and began to dream. I was walking down a red line painted on a concrete floor. Suddenly I heard the sound of steel crashing against steel behind me. I turned around and saw a massive steel gate had closed. As I kept walking, I heard the sound of chains. I looked at my feet and I was in ankle irons. Then I noticed in front of me a dozen other men all chained together. It was cold and damp and guards kept barking orders and insults at me. Finally I was separated from the chain gang and thrown into a cell. It was quiet and lonely and I was afraid. When I woke up I realized this was the second time I had experienced this dream. I knew what that meant and it frightened me.

Five

The next day when I reported to work Jim told me I had been assigned to a new route. Of course, I was expecting this to happen so I wasn't surprised. Jake, however, was shocked and excited by what he perceived as a demotion. "Hey Fuller, I heard you got bumped off the North Beach route already," Jake said. "What happened? Couldn't you follow Jim's cute little map?"

I looked at Jake coldly not knowing exactly how to respond. "No, I can read a map fine, but they may need me as a witness on that Venice Beach heist so they didn't want me having any contact with Mr. Clifford. But you know what was interesting, when the FBI questioned me they were sure interested in you and what you've been up to."

"They were?" Jake said.

"Yeah, you wouldn't know why would you?" I asked.

Jake gave me a blank stare for a moment and then said, "No, you're lying to me Fuller, aren't you?"

"No, I swear to God they were very interested in you Jake, for some reason."

"Well, I don't believe you. You're full of shit!"

"Fine, I don't care if you believe me. Catch you later," I said and walked off.

My new route took me all the way to Palm Springs with eight stops in between. It was the longest route of them all and covered some 200 miles.

Palm Springs was not a strange town to me as I had traveled there many times with my family as a child and teenager. It was the gateway to the wonderful desert. In school and the movies the desert is often portrayed as a vast wasteland but my experiences with the desert were quite to the contrary. Perhaps it was because we always plenty of food and water and survival was never in question.

Up ahead I saw a single story, glass faced building with a large sign that read, Bank USA. The design of the building was similar to dozens I had seen before. Obviously, the Bank USA management didn't want to make any architects rich as all of the branches were nearly identical.

I walked in at 5:20 p.m. and a pretty blond teller was closing the bag. She looked up at me and smiled.

"All ready," she said.

"Good timing," I replied.

"My name is Candy."

"Hi Candy. Nice to meet you."

"Are you going to be our permanent messenger?

"I certainly hope so?"

"We've had so many different messengers lately I can't keep track of them anymore."

"Well, I hope they keep me on this route. I really prefer to drive on the open road rather than in the city."

"Do you work for the bank full time?"

"No. . . . I am student at UCLA."

"Oh. What's your major."

"Political Science. I’m going to go to law school."

"Oh. . . . Wow. You're going to be a rich lawyer?"

"Well, actually what I really want to do is go into politics."

"I could see you as a congressman or senator," she said.

I raised my eyebrows, astonished that she would make such a bold statement when we hardly knew each other. She had certainly got my attention, however, and I felt an urge to continue the conversation.

"Are you planning a career in banking?"

Candy let out a snicker and said, "Are you kidding? No way."

"Oh. . . . Okay, then what are your plans?"

"To be an actress," she said as she gave me a glowing smile.

I returned the smile and said, "I could see you as an actress. . . . Definitely."

"Well, it's all yours," she said as she handed me the bag.

"Thanks. See you tomorrow."

I turned, shook my head and left the bank. What a nice girl, I thought. Now I had something to look forward to every afternoon. I felt a tinge of excited just thinking about it. What a interesting turn of events.

My next stop was Banning. To get to it I had to traverse a small mountain pass of about 5,000 ft. This was great because it was such a nice change from the boredom of the freeway. The scenery was enchanting too, with tall pine trees, grassy hillsides and rushing streams. I picked up the bags at Banning at 6:15 p.m.

From Banning I went to San Bernadino where I had to meet the driver from Big Bear and Lake Arrowhead and pick up his bags. I arrived at San Bernadino at 7:10 p.m. Jim had warned me about the driver from Big Bear. His name was Sam Stewart. Sam was about fifty-five years old and apparently had served time many years ago. Sam lived up in the mountains almost as a hermit. He had long white hair and a white beard. Jim told me that Sam looked a lot like Santa Claus but not to tell him that because he didn't like it.

We were to meet at the San Bernadino branch at 7:15 p.m. The bank was in a strip shopping center on the outskirts of the city. When I pulled up to the bank it was empty and the lights were out. I went inside, retrieved the bag and came back out and waited. A few people were wandering in and out of the Savon Drug Store which was situated next to the bank. After two or three minutes a red Volkswagen Beetle drove up quickly and stopped with a screech. The door opened and out popped a big fat man with white hair and a long white beard. He wasn't wearing a red suit, but instead was outfitted in a tan shirt and blue jeans.

"Hi, I am Fred Fuller," I said.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance Fred, I'm Sam Stewart."

Sam went to the trunk of his car and began to open it up.

"That's a good-looking VW. I've got a friend whose got one just like it."

"Oh really. . . . Does he like it?"

"He loves it."

"Me too. You know this little rascal is the best car on the road."

"How does it do up in the mountains?"

"Great, especially in the snow. When everyone else is stuck, my VW and I are moving right along."

"Huh, that's great."

"Yeah, it's a pretty slick piece of machinery," he said handing me the bags. "Well here are your bags, Fred. Nice to meet ya."

"Likewise, thanks, see ya tomorrow."

I went to my car and was just about to get in when a little girl and her mother came out of Savon. The little girl took one look at Sam and her face lit up. She pulled on her mother's dress and said, "Mama. . . . Look it's Santa Claus!"

"No. I don't think so dear," her Mama said.

Just then the little girl ran over to Sam and said, "Are you Santa Claus?"

Sam gave the little girl a dirty look and growled, "No! Leave me alone." Then he got in his car and tore off toward the mountains.

I drove back to LA, unloaded and went straight to Maria's dorm. That night we drove up to Griffith Park Observatory, as we often did, to look at the city at night. It was quite peaceful and I felt so happy with Maria in my arms.

"I couldn't imagine being separated from you," I said as I looked into her eyes.

"Don't worry we'll always be together."

I slid my arm around her shoulder and pulled her lips gently to mine. We kissed with great passion. Then I slid my hand gently under her sweater across her flat stomach and continued upward, farther than I had ever dared go before. She offered only nominal resistance as I felt for the first time the warmth of her supple breasts. I thanked God again for bringing Maria into my life. I thought for a moment that this was going to be our moment of ecstasy. I retreated momentarily from her breasts and slid my hand down into her pants but Maria reacted quickly when my hand wandered below the line of demarcation between playfulness and serious sex. She grabbed by hand sat up abruptly.

"I told you I wouldn't make love until my wedding night."

Feeling very guilty I said, "I know, I am sorry, I just got carried away. You know you are so beautiful and so provocative that I lose all self control when I am around you."

"Oh sure, I've heard that line before."

Maria folded her arms and starred out at the city lights. After a minute she abruptly turned to me and said, "Okay, I'll take care of your problem."

"Huh?" I said wondering what she meant.

Maria snuggled up close, gave me a peck on my lips and then, much to my shock, slid her hand slowly down into my pants.

"Is this what you want?" she said as she began rubbing me into a frenzy.

"Yeah. . . . Oh yeah! That's it!" I clutched her back and enjoyed my few moments of sensual delight before I erupted everywhere. She pulled her hands from by pants and screamed.

"Oh yuk! What is this crap?"

Six

It was a cool autumn day and I was on my way to Palm Springs again as I had done every night now for several weeks. The route had become very familiar and I was getting to know the personnel at all of the branches pretty well. When I arrived at the Palm Springs branch, the bags were not ready. Apparently one of the tellers was out of balance. Candy invited me into the bank kitchen to wait. She was wearing a tight red sweater that would make any man drool and a short plaid skirt.

Candy had been very friendly toward me from the first day we had met and I was flattered since she was such an attractive woman. She was a very open person and often shocked me with her bold statements about life and intimate confessions about her personal life. Today she seemed excited to see me.

"You know, I've been doing a lot of thinking about us," Candy said.

"You have?" I said, surprised that she was thinking of us in some sort of relationship.

"Yes. . . . Hey, you know, we could help each other out."

"How's that?"

"Well I could be your mistress."

I frowned, not following her logic. "My mistress?"

"Right, every big shot lawyer has a mistress."

"Every lawyer has a mistress? I didn't realize that."

"Of course they do."

"Huh, go on," I said wondering what other revelations about the world I was about to learn.

"You know how hard it is to become an actress. You've got to go to acting school, audition all the time, go to all the Hollywood parties and even sleep with the right people."

I raised my eyebrows. She smiled at my obvious shock.

"You'd go that far to get what you want?" I said.

"If I have to."

"Well my Dad always told me that if you wanted something bad enough you could always get it. It was just a matter of setting your mind on a goal and doing whatever it takes to achieve it."

"Exactly, that's why I should be your mistress. If you set me up in an apartment and took care of me I would be there for you whenever you needed me. But in the mean time I could work on becoming an actress without having to waste eight hours a day working to survive."

"I guess I didn't tell you I have a girlfriend and I am seriously considering asking her to marry me."

"Congratulations. That is so cool!"

"And I don’t plan to have a mistress, no offense."

She gave me a wounded look that made me feel terrible. Before I knew it I found myself recanting.

"If I were going to have one though, I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have than you."

"Give me a break? You're not telling me you're going to be faithful to one woman?"

"Well that's kind of what I had planned."

"What are you some kind of a Boy Scout?"

"Well as a matter of fact, I was a Boy Scout, an Eagle Scout actually."

"Oh God, I should have known."

"You don't like Boy Scouts?"

"I like Boy Scouts okay, my little brother was a Boy Scout. It's just that all that trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly stuff is garbage."

"I don't think it garbage exactly, it's an ideal, a goal to try to achieve."

"You are really idealistic, aren't you?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, think about it. It would be a fantastic arrangement. I like you a lot and I can see in the way you look at me that the feeling is mutual. We could have a lot of fun together without fear of any kind of permanent relationship getting in the way of our dreams. We could trust each other implicitly because our relationship was strictly business."

Luckily the bags were ready and I was summoned back into the bank lobby. Candy gave me a great big smile, put her arms around me and said, "Maybe you need to sample the merchandise before you make a decision, let me know." She gave me a quick kiss and ran off. I stood there a moment in shock. After a minute I regained my composure and left. My mind replayed the conversation over and over again in my head as I continued my route. I was so shaken up I went right past the Beaumont branch without stopping and didn't realize it for several blocks.

Never in my life had I been confronted with such a temptation. Candy represented every evil that I had ever been warned about. Yet I was not repulsed by her as I should have been. She was so alluring and her plan so intriguing that, for a moment, I thought it might be possible.

But as the evening progressed I began to think of Maria and the complete trust she had in me. How could I betray that trust? The answer was clear, I couldn't. One woman was all a man needed, promiscuity would lead to nothing but grief.

When I pulled into the motor pool, Jim was leaning against the gas pump looking pretty restless. I was the last driver in at night so when I was late it meant Jim had to work overtime. I pulled in, got out of my car and began to apologize.

"Sorry I am late, Jim. Palm Springs wasn't ready when I got there so I got way behind from the start."

"I forgive you, but I don't know if my lady friend whose waiting for me will."

I smiled and replied, "Hey. . . . Have you ever heard of a teller named Candy at Palm Springs?"

"No. I can't say that I have. Why, you got an eye for her?"

"No, she's got an eye for me, in fact, she wants to be my mistress."

"What? Your mistress? As I recall you're not married so, if you took up with her, she wouldn't be classified as a mistress now would she?"

"She wants to be my mistress after I am married and have become a lawyer."

"Well lad, I have heard of planning ahead, but this takes the bloody cake."

"Well I just wondered if she came on to all of the messengers like that?"

"I've certainly never heard of such a thing. What do you plan to do?"

"Nothing. The whole idea is crazy. Besides I am in love with Maria."

"Then why did you ask me about it?"

"I know you've been around and experienced a lot," I said.

"Well a professor I knew one time told me that whenever one was considering a course of action he should ask himself, what would be the worst thing that could happen if I embarked down this path? After you have answered that question the decision becomes easy. If you can live with the worst thing that could happen, then you should do it. So. What's the worst thing that would happen if Candy became your Mistress?"

"Well, the worst thing would be if Maria caught me."

"Of course. Now what do you think she would do about it?"

"Well, I'm pretty sure she would stick me with a sharp knife and then twist it slowly."

Jim laughed. "Good lad, just keep that thought in your mind whenever temptation confronts you."

Seven

The next day I drove to work as usual and parked a few blocks away from the motor pool on Canal St. It a narrow street and with cars parked on both sides there was only room for one car to pass at a time. I found an empty spot, carefully backed into it and shut off my engine. As I was opening the front door I heard tires shrieking behind me so I looked in my rear view mirror just in time to see a black, 1963 Chevy barreling toward me. I glanced to my left and saw that my door was extended too far out into the street to allow the Chevy to pass. I reached for the handle to close it quickly, but it was too late as the Chevy hit the door head-on, severing it from of my car.

Upset, but relieved that I had not lost my arm, I jumped out of my car. After watching the black Chevy disappear around the corner, I looked over at my mangled door in the middle of the street. I turned around searching for witnesses to my misfortune but the street was deserted. A sinking feeling quickly overcame me as I realized I had no insurance and would have to pay for this repair myself. "Shit!" I yelled as if someone was there to commiserate with me.

I threw the door into my back seat and walked over to the motor pool. Jim was busy as usual helping drivers get on the road. As I approached him he looked up at me and immediately knew something was wrong.

"What's up lad? You look like your mama just died."

"Some asshole just took off my car door!"

"You're shitting me!"

"No, I was just getting out of my car and this black Chevy comes sailing around the corner and clips off my front door."

"Oh, what bad luck, but I guess that's why you have insurance."

"The jerk didn't bother stopping and giving me insurance information. I only have liability coverage; I couldn't afford comprehensive and collision."

Jim frowned. "Oh, that's a shame. Well you can't be driving around without a door now can you?"

"No. But I can't afford a new one."

"I know where you can get a used door cheap. The owner of the place will even help you put it on."

"Oh really, where?"

"Loma Linda Auto Salvage," Jim replied. "The owner's an old drinking buddy of mine. When you get in tonight, I'll give you his name and address and directions how to get there."

"Great, I really appreciate that, Jim."

That night Jim gave me directions to Loma Linda Auto Salvage and the next day I skipped classes and went there. The salvage yard was surrounded by an eight foot chain link fence and guarded by a dog named Prince. As I entered the yard Prince came running at me barking wildly. I was a little scared but I knelt down anyway and cautiously extended my hand so he could smell me. I knew most dogs were usually friendly by nature and would warm up to you once they felt you meant them no harm.

Prince approached cautiously and sniffed my finger. "Here boy. . . . I won't hurt you. . . . Come here." Prince slowing moved closer and finally I was able to gently put my hand on top of his head so I could pet him. In a few minutes Prince and I were friends.

While I was petting prince, the owner of Loma Linda Auto Salvage, a man named Elmer, appeared and commented, "You're the first person that I can remember Prince allowing to pet him. How did you manage that?"

"I love dogs. I guess they can sense I’m a friend."

He nodded. "So, what can I do for you?"

"I need a front door for a '59 Ford Fairlane. Some jerk ripped mine off yesterday."

"Oh my. . . . I hope you weren't hurt."

"No. Miraculously I escaped injury."

"Well, let me see. I think I've seen a '59 Ford Fairlane around her somewhere. Follow me and we'll see if we can locate it."

After searching for thirty minutes or so, Elmer, sure enough, found a 1959 Ford Fairlane. He said the left front door was mine for thirty bucks. I told him Jim had mentioned that he might help me put it on so he agreed for an additional $10 bucks he would do that. Since I was not mechanically inclined, I jumped at the offer.

Elmer told me to pull my car into his shop, which I did immediately. He pushed an old wheel barrow out to the '59 Ford Fairlane, removed the door and placed it on the wheel barrow. Then he pushed the wheel barrow back to the shop and installed it on my car.

Other than the contrast of a blue door on a maroon body, it was good as new. I took the car by the motor pool and showed it to Jim. He concurred that it looked good and said he even liked the two-toned paint job. After saying good-bye to Prince, I went home feeling much better.