Saturday, February 27, 2016

Mug Shot

    It was safe until then.
    There was someone else behind the counter, too.
    She could always go back to escape Pennsylvania or Japan or Texas or California or Virginia. It was the ultimate apple orchard until he showed up back there.
     He robbed her of that last place to run.
     She wasn't afraid this time, but her heart was beating fast. The door was a few steps behind.
     She could get away if she wanted.
     It was beginning to feel like something from a TV Show in the 1980s in a sick, familiar way. Would Boss Hogg come shuffling out next, to run her out of town for good?
     "This is my name, this is my daddy's name and these are my uncles. Who are you?" she asked.
     He didn't say anything except, "I have a weapon."
     He didn't show her.
     She said, I have one, too, and reached.
     He didn't budge, and that's when she knew.
     She waited, but he still wouldn't say his name nor would he draw his weapon.
     Then he did the one thing that told her once and for all that he was one of them.
     He got right in her face, pulled his hair back and dared her to shoot.
     Her heart was almost beating out of her chest, seeing it so close with its eyes open, enraged and threatened.
     Doesn't he know better? a voice whispered.
     Where is his hood, said a naughty little girl. It's broad daylight, she goaded, his neck will get burnt!
     Her hands and knees were shaking and the baby voice was trying to come out of her mouth but didn't.
     She held her breath,  aimed and fired a beautiful shot.
     Then, she walked right out the door. His face was so red.
     It was journalistic ecstasy supreme.
     She wanted to giggle at the absurdity of someone trying to pull a fake badge on her, the Sheriff's granddaughter.
This is what a real badge looks like
     For once, she had a picture to go with her story.
     Her Mustang was waiting, and she knew where to go. She wasn't afraid to turn her back; there was a billy stick in her car, had been for years.
     Her daddy gave it to her, a little something of Big Daddy's, to remind her where she came from.
     The door might've slammed behind her. She can't remember.
     The young man with her would know, the only other person with a real weapon in his hand.
     He was recording the entire time.