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Friday after school, Kareem and Maquis set out to find what they needed. They walked along the route that they usual jogged for their 5-mile track practice. They had their book bags in hand and went mailbox to mailbox, feverishly looking for what they needed. They dumped anything in their bags that was remotely close to necessary for their next criminal stunt.
Two miles into their search, Kareem was stressed. He had not found any checks and began to give up hope of finding any. In a mystified tone, Kareem remarked, “Marquis, this is lunacy. Why are we here?”
“You a quitter. I didn’t think that was your type.”
“I’m not, but there is no checks out here. We would be better off in the ghetto.”
“What did you say? My hearing just failed me.” Marquis then casually held out a box that resembled the dimensions of a checkbook.
“Is that it?” Kareem asked with a large smile on his face. “You better believe it.”
“Who ooh!” Kareem jumped around yelling. “Let’s get out of here.”
The two of them made their way back to the school grounds in time for the first late activities bus. They boarded the school bus to West Conshy and kept their adventure silent. They hopped on the R6 train and headed to Philadelphia. Neither of them could believe what they had done, nor what they were going to get into. They felt safe on the train and emptied their book bags to reveal what they had found.
Kareem broke the ice. “I have a few credit cards inside there,” he said prosaically as he emptied his bag.
“How do you know they’re credit cards inside the envelopes?” Marquis asked.
“My mom gets them all the time. None of which she accepts. They always come in non-descriptive envelopes with no company name in the return address area. Besides, you can feel the cards.”
“Well, I guess we can use them to buy shit and save our cash. How many do you have?”
“Two for me and two for you.”
Marquis respected that Kareem was ready to break things down fifty-fifty.
“What else do you have in your bag besides the big grand prize?”
“I have this envelop from the Social Security Administration. It may be useful news inside.”
“That’s it. That’s nothing,” Kareem said haughtily and waved a hand in the air as to flag Marquis.
“Boy, you have a lot to learn. SS numbers are the catalyst for identity theft. Where have you been?”
Kareem sat quiet a moment and reflected on what he had learned about ID theft from the media. He realized that Maquis was on to something, and said, “You know what, you’re right. We are really about to make moves. The more the better. I need all the money that I can get.”
The train pulled into the Market East Station and they both exited the train. They walked through the station and headed to the Wachovia Bank at 11th and Chestnut Streets. The two of them withdrew the remaining balances in their accounts. They were both confused at how easily the tellers just forked over the money. No wonder white-collar crime is so easy, Kareem thought.
“I am telling you that this shit is too easy,” Marquis said.
“I was thinking the same thing,” Kareem responded. “Listen to this. During the initial conversation when I heard about this game, they had deposited checks for $1,500 each. If we did that tomorrow, we’d have $3,000 off every new account versus a measly $800.”
“Eight-hundred ain’t measly, but man, $1,500 is husky.”
“Well, $3,000 it is. For now, here is the $200 I owe you. Let’s do some shopping.”
The two of them jetted to the Gallery Mall. Kareem had money to shop recklessly, but he didn’t. He was waiting until his next big stunt. One the other hand, Marquis went to the very Strawbridge’s that once impressed Kareem and bought three Polo Ralph Lauren outfits. He had spent $250 and then decided that was enough splurging. He took his cue from Kareem, who was younger than him, but the ring leader.