The Secret Manuscript (12 page)

The bus
arrived at the university campus a little after four o’clock. Ben
exited and ran to the coffee shop. When he finally arrived, he
burst through the door and looked around. Panting and sweaty, Ben
looked at his watch — he was twenty minutes late and Vanessa was
nowhere in sight.

Dammit!
he thought.

Figuring that
Vanessa grew tired of waiting and left, Ben went to the washroom.
He thought about how he had toyed with fate to get a girl he was
never supposed to get, and presumed this was the universe’s way of
correcting course. Ben dispensed a large swath of paper towel and
dried his hands before leaving.

As he exited,
he saw Vanessa coming through the front doors of the coffee shop.
Being caught off-guard and nervous, blood rushed to his face. She
looked around, and once she spotted him, she waved.

“Hi Ben,” she
said as she approached. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s
okay.”

“My class ran
a little bit longer than usual,” she said, taking off her jacket
and sitting down. “Our prof was handing back our assignments.”

Vanessa looked
stunning. Her toned body suggested she was no stranger to the gym,
or yoga perhaps. Her clothes were new and fashionable. She was the
complete opposite of Ben. His thin and wiry frame had never seen
the inside of a gym and he was wearing the stolen clothes of a
stranger. Fashion was definitely not his forte, but Vanessa didn’t
seem to mind. She actually seemed to respect that part about him.
Unlike many other guys she had encountered, Ben was just being
himself and not trying to impress her. It was obvious he did not
care what others thought about him.

“So how did
you do on your assignment?”

“I got an A-,
but I think I could have done better. It’s just really hard to know
what the profs are looking for, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“So, what have
you been up to?” she asked.

“Not
much.”

“How’s the
editing coming along?”

“What
editing?”

“You were
editing your manuscript the last time I saw you.”

“Oh yeah,
right. Um… it’s going okay, I suppose.”

There was a
noticeable difference between their first meeting and the second.
To Vanessa, Ben seemed unusually awkward, and she could not figure
out why. On their previous meeting, Ben had exuded so much
confidence, but after only a few short sentences, she felt like he
was a completely different person than the one she had met before.
Without the aid of the manuscript, it was as if Ben were a
superhero who had suddenly lost his powers. He was back to being
his regular self and had to think of something quickly.

“Can I get you
a drink?” he asked.

“Sure, I’ll
have whatever you’re having.”

Ben returned a
few minutes later holding two medium-sized hot chocolates.

“Here you go,”
he said as he carried the cup over to her. Due to his nerves, his
hands were shaking uncontrollably. He fumbled to set the drink
down, and when he finally did, he tipped it over, spilling the hot
liquid all over her. Vanessa reacted quickly and avoided the
scolding beverage, but it drenched her jacket.

“Oh my gosh, I
am so sorry.” Ben pleaded. “Here, let me get you some napkins,” he
said as he rushed off.

He considered
the incident to be another sign from the universe telling him not
to meddle with the natural order of things. It seemed as though
some external force was trying to sabotage him, or at least that
was the story he told himself.

When Ben
returned, he saw the full extent of the damage — the coat was
ruined. Though he had less than fifty dollars to his name, he still
offered to buy her a new coat.

“No, it’s
okay. I’ll just have it dry cleaned.”

“At least let
me pay for your dry cleaning,” he insisted. Ben reached into his
wallet, took out a twenty-dollar bill, and handed it to her. “If it
costs more, just let me know.”

Ben was too
humiliated to continue the date, so he apologized profusely, and
then ran out the door.

Ben sat alone
in his room reading the manuscript. After his date debacle, he
wanted to redeem himself somehow. This time, as he was reading, he
approached the text with a slightly different lens. He was
intrigued at how he could use the contents of the story to
manipulate situations and even exploit them for his own personal
gain. It worked so well with getting Vanessa’s number, he wondered
if it could work to get other things, such as money.

His motives
were not purely based on greed, he owed a lot of back taxes to the
city for his house and wanted to make sure he and Kyle would
continue to have a place to live. After all the things Kyle had
done for Ben, it was the least Ben could do in return. He
considered going back to work, but he did not want to subject
himself to working some menial job with an egomaniacal boss again.
Instead, he combed through the text with a meticulous eye for the
subtlest clue he could use to make money.

One problem he
encountered, however, was timing. Not every detail of Ben’s life
was written in the manuscript, only the prominent events. This made
it incredibly difficult for him to navigate the future. Since
nothing in the story was dated, it was left up to Ben’s best guess
as to when the events would occur. One method he used was to
recognize when past events happened and then use those as a compass
to navigate forward. It was a bit like walking in the dark. He also
found having too much knowledge of future events would alter the
course of his destiny. In some cases, events would not unfold
exactly the way the story described because his reactions were no
longer genuine and spontaneous. In other cases, entire events did
not even take place at all. He discovered this when an event in the
story transpired, but the prior event had not. This problem puzzled
him for several days, until he figured out what was happening.

When he used
the story to get Vanessa’s number, it just so happened he read that
part of the text moments before the actual event, but with prior
knowledge of the events too far in advance, it seemed to unravel
the entire situation before it could transpire at all. His solution
to this problem was to stop reading the manuscript for extended
periods of time to allow his destiny to enter him into situations
naturally. Then, he would try to time it so he would read the text
moments before the event actually came to be. This proved to be
difficult, but at least this way he avoided having the knowledge of
the forthcoming event get in the way and alter his path.

Within a few
weeks, he figured his destiny had caught up with him and his
placement within the story was running parallel with his actual
life.

After a short
bus ride, Ben stepped off and continued the rest of the way on
foot. It was the nearest bank in his neighbourhood. He was down to
his last few dollars and was desperate for a loan. When he arrived
at the bank, a strange feeling came over him — a feeling of déjà
vu. Seeing as he was a huge believer in signs, he stopped right
outside the bank door, took out his manuscript, and began reading.
As he read, it described the trip to the bank. Ben was ecstatic
since his hypothesis had worked. He had timed it perfectly, and was
now running in tandem with the contents of the story.

Ben entered
the bank and waited in line like everyone else. In front of him was
a man wearing a dark military jacket and combat boots with the pant
legs tucked in. Ben took notice of the man’s attire and felt a
little uneasy. When the next teller became available, the man
casually approached the counter and slipped the teller a folded
piece of paper. The whole time, Ben kept an eye on the situation.
Immediately, he could tell what was happening, but did nothing.

The look of
pure terror on the teller’s face spoke volumes. It was a situation
they had all trained for, but hoped to never be in. The teller did
as she was trained to do and complied with the robber’s request.
She promptly placed several stacks of bills into a bag and handed
it to the robber. Nobody but Ben seemed to notice; the rest of the
bank staff and customers were oblivious to what was happening.

As the robber
turned around to leave, he saw Ben watching him. The robber walked
right up to Ben, which caused Ben to get really nervous, and said,
“Say a word and you’re a dead man.”

At that point,
the robber was home free; all he needed to do was leave. Even
though Ben knew an altercation was unlikely since the robber would
not want to do anything to risk getting caught, Ben was still
frightened. He did not say a word to the robber, he simply watched
the robber nonchalantly walk out of the bank and head east down
12th Avenue.

Just then, Ben
was bumped from behind. The impact caused him to drop his papers.
As he bent down to pick them up, he noticed a set of black military
boots step into his field of vision. He looked up and saw a man
wearing a dark military jacket much like the one described in the
text. It was undoubtedly the robber.

Ben’s
adrenaline kicked in as he quickly contemplated what to do. He
stood up, went over to the window, and cupped his hands together.
Now peering through the window, he saw the robber standing in line.
Ben looked around for a weapon he could use to attack the robber
with when he came out.

Oh who am I
kidding?
Ben thought.
I’m no hero.

Ben reasoned
that any man willing to rob a bank in broad daylight was probably
armed and dangerous. At the very least, he was probably someone who
was not to be messed with. Nevertheless, Ben could not just ignore
the opportunity. This kind of moment was exactly what he was
looking for. He wanted to come up with a way he could capitalize on
the situation, but nothing came to mind. What he decided to do was
run across the street and safely observe from a distance, hoping a
better plan would reveal itself.

A few moments
later, the robber exited the bank. Concealed in his jacket was a
canvas satchel. Just as the manuscript had said, the robber headed
east down 12th Avenue. With no real plan in mind, Ben followed him.
The robber walked to the end of the block and turned right. Ben
lost his visual on the robber, so he picked up his pace.

Ben ran to the
end of the block and rounded the same corner the robber had. In
that short time, however, the robber was gone. Ben stood still and
surveyed the area. He saw countless pedestrians going about their
day, but none of them were wearing military clothes. He was
disappointed in himself to say the least, but was unsure what the
end result would have been. Perhaps losing his visual on the robber
was a blessing in disguise.

Ben still
needed to go to the bank, but he was not about to go to one that
had just been robbed. He decided to head home and go back the next
day. He walked to the bus stop on the next block. As was his
natural inclination, he kept his head down and avoided making eye
contact with the other people waiting for the bus.

The bus
arrived shortly after and Ben boarded, paid his fare, and found a
seat. The bus pulled away and Ben stayed occupied by looking out
the window. After a few stops, he focused his attention to the man
sitting next to him, who seemed oddly fidgety. Ben briefly looked
over at the man, but did not notice anything out of the ordinary,
until he looked at the man’s footwear. The man was wearing
military-style combat boots. Ben now realized why this man seemed
so anxious — he had just gotten away with robbing a bank.

Not knowing
what to do next, Ben continued to sit coolly in his seat next to
the robber. Ben looked on as the bus passed his stop. He stayed on
for another fifteen or twenty minutes as the bus entered a rundown
neighbourhood. At a certain point, the bus slowed to a stop and the
robber quickly got up and rushed out the back door. Had he not been
so hasty with his exit, he would have noticed Ben get up shortly
after and follow him out the door.

The robber
walked with a frantic pace as he was undoubtedly surging on
adrenaline. Given the nature of the crime and the neighbourhood,
Ben thought there was a good chance he was high on some kind of
drug as well. Ben kept his distance, but observed where the man was
headed. In the short distance from the bus stop to the robber’s
house, he only looked back once. Fortunately, Ben was wise enough
to have crossed the street so he went unnoticed.

The robber
entered a house, which from the exterior looked a lot like Ben’s
house. Ben figured the interior layout was probably similar as
well. Without a fully developed plan in mind, Ben walked by slowly,
casing the place. After a few passes, he decided to leave.

Kyle came home
a little after midnight and discovered Ben was still up. In fact,
Ben had been waiting for him.

“Hey, man,”
Kyle said as he entered the house.

“What’s up?”
Ben replied. “How was work?”

“Exhausting.”

“How long are
you going to keep this up?” Ben asked.

“Until I
graduate… unless school suddenly becomes free.”

“What if I
told you I have a way you could make a little money?”

“Let me guess,
your little book told you a way to rob a bank.”

“No… but close
though. Fortunately for us, the bank has already been robbed. All
we need to do is rob the robber.”

“Count me
out.”

“Oh come on,
you’re always so sensible, why don’t you live a little?”

“Why am I so
sensible? Did you hear what you just said? I’ll take sensible over
foolish any day.”

“I know
exactly where the robber lives. All we need to do is go there with
a couple of masks, give him a good scare, and take the money from
him.”

“You know,
sometimes your brain entertains the wildest ideas. You’re better
off writing stories about heroes rather than trying to become one
yourself.”