He'd have me sweep the porch steps outside the store once at 12 and once at 5 every day and evening. He had me do all sorts of tedious chores, but this one in particular ties into the story. Are you following friend? Good! Upon starting my nightly sweep, I realized that Mr. Donovan had dropped his heart pills on the stoop. I, not yet exposed to my own capabilities, was hesitant. I waited several minutes in a dead stare, contemplating. I alas snatched the pills and put them in my front smock pocket. I didn't waste any time devising a mastermind plan. My instincts flourished through my body that instant and they haven't failed me since then to this day. I secretively walked into the old mans store with a grin stretching ear to ear. I approached the shelf where he had a display of pills and potions claiming to cure almost every ailment known to man. Matching the pills by size, color and texture, like a mad chemist, I found one that was almost identical to his; surely not noticeable upon first glance by an old man with nothing but the conquest of money and wealth on his mind. Ironically enough, on the back of the tiny black bottle it read: "For the treatment and or improvement of all diseases and ailments concerning the Heart"

Mr. Donovan had heart problems since he was 40 and endured several heart attacks in the last 25 or so years after that. He was a man whose temper and nerves flared out of control on the drop of a hat?especially in matters concerning money or the idea of being cheated. He needed his pills, sometimes four, five or even six times a day. Whenever there a cause of alarm arose, they were needed immediately to calm his heart and lower his blood pressure. I know for a matter of fact, that he couldn't have taken any in the last six hours, which means he must be in dire need. The sheer anxiety of knowing his pills were not at his leisure must have driven him up a wall. All I needed now was a push-start; something to ensure he would go over the edge. On a calm state of mind, it is possible that the old man could go for days without the pills--though certainly not, most definitely not in a time of high stress.

Quickly, I emptied all the money out of the register and hid some of the more expensive porcelain dolls, which were on display in the front of the store. The old man rearranged and dusted them almost daily. I moved fast, certain he would arrive soon looking for his pills.