There it was. You could see the corner of the folded yellowed parchment sticking out of the torn lining of the battered book. Its letter from Auntie telling Timothy about knowledge.
Timothy carefully places the old tome on the counter.
“Miriam, lovely to see you again. I was wondering if you could help me with something?” His big smile accents a well worn face. His features craved by years of hard living.
“Well, sir. What can I do for you today?” Miriam has no idea who he really is. Bank tellers just smile, small talk them away.
“I would like to inventory the Franklin’s, Grant’ s and Jackson’s in your drawer. Oh, sorry, how are your three kids? And how do you ever get then in that Prius?” Timothy quietly responds. He teaches up and taps on the book. “If you’re quiet, then I’m quiet. No dye packs, no daycare visits.”
“Sir?! Is this a..”
“Yes, its a lovely day. Hate to ruin it for others.” The book tapping gets loud
She gulps hard. Eyes never leave his unguarded face. Fingers find bills and a blue change bag. Alarm button goes unpushed. Thoughts of those children smiling in that picture beside her.
“Thank you Miriam! I hope you have a great day. Auntie told me learned people can use books to get ahead in thus world. She was right.” He picks up the bag and book turning for the door.
Outside the sun shines on his face. No alarms. No pursuers. The police station across the street is quiet.
Truly the book is correct, “The Royal Path of Life”
Written as part of a weekly challenge called Flash Fiction for the Purposeful practitioners