The Yard Sale Bandit
By William Baker. Published on April 5, 2023.
Originally appeared in Short Fiction Break and again in 1932 Quarterly.
Blaine Washington cleans the remainder of the makeup from under his eyes with a baby wipe before sitting down in front of the television in the small theater dressing room. He tosses the plastic grocery bag of cash on the worn out sofa next to him, the costumes and props he has already put away. His presence here will not garner suspicion, after all he is the stage manager and it is not unusual for him to be in and out of the theater several times a week. That is even more true now that he is unemployed. There is no danger of interruption this time of year as there are no upcoming performances in the works. He can sit here and count his haul in peace and see if the news is covering him yet. He figures that his score today is a good one, maybe a few thousand.
At the beginning of the hour the news starts over again and Blaine is pleased to see that he has top billing. He smiles as the reporters gave him an excellent review.
"Our top story tonight, four more unbelievable robberies at small town Indiana yard sales. State and local Police seem stumped at this summer's rash of yard sale hold ups in the state. All of which seem to be committed by different men. Rhonda Lytle is in the field in Jefferson Indiana, 30 miles south of Indianapolis. Rhonda?"
Rhonda details the four hold ups in south central Indiana and gives descriptions of the four robbers. Then brings on the State Police spokesman who talks a moment before Rhonda asks a question. "All of these robberies, is this the work of a gang?"
"It would be an awful big gang" the spokesman says. "A dozen hold ups by a dozen different men. There is not enough money in this for an organized crime effort. This is individuals."
"So, is it coincidence then that these crimes are taking place in a different area of the state almost every weekend? Always towns close together, and by different men. Are they copy cats?" Rhonda asks.
"All of that is under investigation and I can't comment. But we are telling people to please be aware and take precautions. These men are always armed and dangerous. They will be caught" the spokesman says .
Blaine smiles, turns off the television and counts.
It started with him flat out of money and ideas. He was depressed and more than a little desperate with his unemployment coming to an end. Fast food, retail, and warehouse work seemed to be the only jobs available and none of them paid enough to live. He was bumming around a monster yard sale on the south side of Indy. Looking for anything the theater might be able to use.
It was one of those massive multi-family sales that filled the front and back yard of the residence. Blaine found nothing for the theater but did locate a Shakespeare coffee mug for a quarter that he couldn't pass up for himself. He heard the two ratty dressed forty something women talking at the cash box while he browsed with mug in hand.
One of the women with stringy black hair and a large gap in her front teeth was talking. "Donnie done took a thousand to the bank. He's gonna have to make another trip soon as they get back. I've taken in at least that much since he left."
"Course, you sold the riding mower since then. That's most of it." The other woman added. Her hair was much more kept and her teeth lacked gaps but she was dressed in clothes that needed thrown away. Blaine paid for the mug and went home.
At home he thought about the yard sale and the $2000 in cash. He found himself thinking of it often as he applied for jobs online at the library or used his EBT card at the grocery or as he sorted through the props and costumes at the theater. Thinking turned into what if and the what if turned into planning and the planning turned into a walk through and the walk through turned into a full costume trial run.
For Blaine it was like tech week in a production. He wore sideburns, a brown wavy hair piece, a small scar on his cheek and a deformed ear on the same side. He dressed in a sport coat used in the last production of Arsenic and Old Lace. None of the clothes were his own and he looked much older than thirty-two. He parked on the next street and walked to the sale. He browsed and kept his eyes and ears open. No one seemed to think him the least bit strange or unnatural. He saw the cash box opened one time and judged it had a few hundred in it. He saw a half dozen opportunities to make his move with the prop gun in his pocket. Then he went home satisfied that his thinking was right.
Blaine planned more and with one week left on his unemployment he made the move. This time he was in the town of Monrovia and he wore a blond wig pulled back in a ponytail, sun glasses, an orange to green reversible jacket, and an LA Dodgers ball cap. His makeup was light but he sported a new nose. He figured that the orange jacket, nose and the ball cap would be remembered. His take was over $400 and he reversed the jacket, stuck the cap, sunglasses, prop gun and wig in the plastic grocery bag with the cash. Then combed his hair straight back all while walking through the adjoining yards to the next street and his car.
He heard no commotion so he figured that the woman gave him five minutes as he instructed. Blaine told her that he might shoot an innocent person, maybe a child if she didn't give him five minutes before sounding an alarm. She had considered the safety of others and he was encouraged by her thoughtfulness.
Four hundred dollars tax free was good but it wasn't enough. Blaine did his due diligence and scouted local online newspapers for yard sale ads. The following week he went in the middle of the afternoon to Tipton, then Atlanta, Arcadia and at last Cicero. The news remarked that the robberies were in a straight line and was no doubt the work of a gang. It went perfectly as he removed the distinctive parts of his disguise, stopped after each job, switched costumes in the car then drove to the next target. That night after returning all of the costuming and props to the theater he counted $1467 in cash. He paid the landlord, filled the car with gas and stopped at Starbucks, then started planning for the following Saturday.
The next time it was two sales in the far north of the state with a haul of over $2200 and he didn't hit the other two targets as he didn't want to push his luck. Two weeks later it was far west, around the Terre Haute area. Four stops and over $3000. Followed by the jobs in the central part of the state. All five news stations in Indianapolis were buzzing and The Yard Sale Bandits were a hot topic. He laid low for four weeks, even taking a part time job. But his research remained constant. He next went to Jefferson, Whiteland and Greenwood, Indiana and came home with a disappointing $900. He knows he needs to go out again soon.
He plans the next hits for the east central part of the state. It is farm country and small towns but there are sales advertised, big sales. Knightstown is first but Blaine backs out once he surveys. Too many tough looking men are hanging around and one of them gives him the eye. He purchases a table lamp and leaves. He decides to go to the next place near Rushville, then jog over to Connersville and up to the Cambridge City site before jumping on the interstate and back to Indy. While driving, he sees the Big Yard Sale Ahead sign at the side of US 40 and slows down. He sees another sign pointing down a side road. It is unplanned but he missed out on Knightstown and wants to make up for it.
It is a large sale and he drives past, turns around on the next street and circles behind. It is a good setup: few houses, not far to walk and he can cut through a home construction site to the car. He checks his disguise and it is flawless. He looks like an orange haired character from the Nerds movies. His costuming is complete right down to the pocket protector, slide rule and tape on the glasses. The prop gun is inside his jacket.
The sale is picked through and he is the only customer. There are two women in their sixties sitting in lawn chairs in the garage watching television. He browses close to them and feigns interest in an electronic dart board.
"I'll go ten on that." One of the women calls to him. "Still works, only has two darts."
Blaine nods to her and sees the cash box on the garage floor between them. The other woman says something to the first and they start a conversation during the commercial break for Family Feud.
Blaine decides to go for it. It is a big sale that is picked over so there must be some cash. He sidles closer while looking at the men's shoes lined up in the garage, then steps to them and pulls the prop pistol.
"Give me the box" he says. The women look at him.
The woman on the left sports bluing hair and awful false teeth. She snorts in amusement "you're one of them yard sale thieves, huh?" Blaine stares in reply and pushes the prop pistol out further. Neither woman reaches for the box between them.
The brassy haired woman on the right grabs her purse off the table and puts it in her lap. "You don't want my pocketbook too, do you?" she asks.
"No, the box. Put it on the table now" he insists in a low voice.
"I don't think he would use that thing." The blue haired one says. "I don't think it's even real."
Blaine looks at her in disbelief, no one ever argued with him before. He makes a snap decision that this is not a good idea and takes a step back. He sees movement and looks at the brassy haired woman. She is holding a small pistol pointed at his head.
The look of disbelief is still on his face as he lay arms eagle spread on the driveway. The glasses are flown off somewhere behind him and the pocket protector spills the slide rule. The prop gun slips from his fingers and he stares at the summer sky. The small hole in his forehead trickles a thin line of crimson onto the orange wig.
William Baker’s short fiction is published a number of times since 2013. He thrives and lives a positive and purposeful life in Yeshua in Indiana. He maintains an author website with publication links at http://www.sylbun.com and can be contacted at: williambakerauthor@gmx.com.
He is currently working on numerous short stories, a stage play and a novel. He is an amateur photographer, an actor in community theater and has a large family for which he is continually grateful.
