Wednesday March 10th seemed just like an ordinary day to me, except for the fact that I woke up in the morning instead of the afternoon, so I fed my newborn daughter Angelia Micheline her bottle, and started reading the paper. Now I’m not a big believer in horoscopes, but my girlfriend Maria is, so she snatched the paper out of my hand and began to read. I hate when she does this, especially when I’m reading the sports page. I hear her say “ Gemini- ‘Hope you got up early. There’s much to accomplish, you’ll be expected to perform against all the odds. There are heavy-handed forces around you now. Injustice and rudeness should not be tolerated.” I laughed it off, squeezed Velveeta cheese onto my soft pretzel, and called my grandfather to pick me up for my physical therapy treatment. For some odd reason I was in an edgy mood, so I completed my exercises at the office, but refused to stay the extra thirty minutes to get my back and legs massaged. I was in a real hurry, but frankly I really didn’t have anywhere special to go.
My grandfather, Bill Reil Senior, was waiting for me outside, and I decided to stop over his house and cook him some food. Right before I started making my Italian specialty, he asked me if I could take a ride with him to the bank, so I could cash the bonds that my late grandmother Faye had bought me before she had passed away. It was ironic too because I had been thinking about her often, hoping that she would be proud of me. I was appreciating her strength for raising four children, as I have a hard time with two. In my mind, I asked her what would be next, where do I go from here? My thought pattern was interrupted by my grandfather hollering, “Billy, you fuckin’ ready or not?” I nicknamed my pops “The Cowboy” because of his raspy voice and his no nonsense attitude.
As we walked up to Prudential Bank on Broad and Castle streets in South Philadelphia, I saw “Cowboy” do what appeared to be the “Icky Shuffle” or some kind of endzone celebration. In reality, the bank had just been heisted, and the bank tellers screamed, “We just got robbed.” Without hesitation, I ran as fast as I possibly could, and I noticed the thief’s bag filled with thousands of dollars explode with red dye. He booked down Broad Street and ran to the Morris Street subway entrance. As I followed him down the stairway I noticed a brand new jacket lying on the floor. The subway was packed with people, but my keen instincts told me to look for a man without a coat, beings it was pretty chilly outside. I spotted him immediately and continued my pursuit. When I finally got to the Tasker Street entrance I noticed two undercover cops a quarter block behind me. I used my judgement and figured he was gonna cross Broad street, and I was right. The chase continued as he made a right turn up a little street called Carlisle. The undercovers were gaining on me, as I started running out of gas, and as I glanced back I noticed the FBI, Police Officers, and Detectives were on the trail too. I just hoped that they didn’t think it was me who was the perpetrator.
I was now within 15 feet of the burglar when I used the most generic crime-fighting phrase of all time: “POLICE. FREEZE.” Surprisingly, he dropped to his knees and fell to the floor. I stood over him, and the undercovers pulled out their Glocks and cuffed him. It was amusing to see these young undercovers giving each other high fives while I just sat back chillin’ like this happens everyday.
Helicopters were flying above, and I felt really proud of myself, but at the same time I swore something like this had happened to me before. (Billy apprehended a mugger last year wearing nothing but boxer shorts).
The guy wound up being Robert Prevard, a 42-year-old man who had robbed six banks in the past year. I was escorted back to the bank for questioning, and was given a standing ovation by the employees of Prudential Savings Bank. They told me that I would be rewarded for my actions, but that wasn’t my motive at all. I just want the city to be a safer place for the children of the future. The FBI and the Police asked me to join their side, but I haven’t given them an answer yet. On my way home I thought about my grandmother again, and I thanked her as she answered all the questions in my mind just hours before. “BulletProof” Billy Reil had been reborn, and was a hero in South Philadelphia again.