“Text book,” I said quietly.
“What?” Gary asked.
“We just walked into a trap.”
Why Gary looked down at his feet I don’t know, maybe he was looking for a tripwire.
“Not that kind,” I told him.
“Put your guns down,” came the voice from the corner.
Like gasoline to a fire Travis came running up to the store entrance. “Drop that fucking gun!” he yelled.
“No swearing!” Tracy said reflexively from the food court.
I could hear the metallic sound of the action being moved on the pistol that was aimed at my right side. I started going through the laundry list of vital organs exposed to that potential shot, any of them being damaged was not something I wanted to deal with today.
“Hold up!” I yelled. “I’m putting my gun down. Travis, do not do anything.”
“Dad, it’s just a girl,” Travis said. I don’t know if he meant he could take her down quickly or ‘it’s just a girl and what the hell do I do?’
“How big is the gun?” I asked evenly as I bent over very slowly to place my rifle on the floor.
“Fucken huge,” he said with some awe.
“No swearing!” Tracy said again.
“Angel, you alright?” the voice from the corner asked.
I couldn’t believe it. The girl apparently holding a rhino killing pistol started to giggle. “I’m alright Eyean. But he looks scared.” And then she started to giggle again.
I had placed my rifle on the floor and stolen a glance at my captor as I stood back up. She stuck her tongue out at me when she realized I was looking at her. A six year old girl holding a .44 magnum had gotten the drop on me. “Wonderful,” I said in self-disgust.
She put on her meanest face, probably the one reserved for when she found out that the Hannah Montana episode on that night was a repeat. However, it was no joke when she motioned with the gun for me to put my hands over my head. Gary had already put his gun down and was lying prostrate on the floor.
“Dad?” Travis asked.
“Put the gun down. I’d rather get shot than ever shoot a little girl.” Visions of a Wal-Mart loading bay blazed across my memories. “Again,” I added.
“Eyean, all their guns are down,” Angel said, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle another giggle.
“Eyean, why would you send this girl out here to do this?” I was enraged.
“It’s Ryan, she’s never been good with the ‘R’,” a skinny kid maybe 15 or 16 years old said as he came out from behind a NASCAR display. “She was in the bathroom when we heard you come in. I told her to stay there.” “Any chance we could convince her to put that gun down before anyone gets hurt? And considering I’m the only one under aim at the moment, it would most likely be me.” “Mister, I’m sorry,” Ryan said. “But we don’t know you at all.”
“Stranger danger!” Angel said excitedly.
“Wonderful, so now what?” I asked.
Ryan didn’t seem so prepared to answer that question.
Tracy came up cautiously to the front of the store. “Why she’s just a little girl Talbot, what’s the matter, did she trap the big brave men?” she asked condescendingly, laced with a bit of humor. I don’t know how she pulled it off. It was magnificent and it also had the added bonus of diffusing a potentially bad situation.
“Hi pretty lady,” Angel said, waving the hand that was not holding the magnum. How the hell such a little girl was keeping that cannon trained directly on me I don’t friggen know.
“Hi, Angel is it?” Tracy said, getting a little lower to be on eye level with the Bonnie (of Bonnie and Clyde fame) wannabe. That might seem harsh to you but I was the one being held at gunpoint. Give it a whirl sometime and let me know what you think of it.
“Yes,” the girl answered coquettishly, lightly kicking her left foot forward.
“You’re very pretty Angel,” Tracy said softly.
“Thank you pretty lady,” Angel answered. This would have been an awesome Disney flick if that cold steel huge caliber weapon wasn’t pointed at me.
“It’s Tracy,” Tracy answered.
“My mom’s name was Alicia,” Angel answered back.
We all noted the key word ‘was.’
“Oh honey,” Tracy said, standing back up. As she walked forward she opened her arms wide.
Angel didn’t give a crap about me as her gun clattered to the floor and she ran into Tracy ’s outstretched arms. I was thankful it didn’t go off, especially considering the first action of the dual action revolver had already been engaged. When I walked over to retrieve the weapon I increased my embarrassment level exponentially. I opened the revolver only to realize that she had no bullets.
“What now mister?” Ryan asked, cautiously watching his sister as she sobbed heavily into Tracy ’s chest.
“Nothing, come on out.” I looked down. Gary hadn’t moved. “Umm, you can get up now brother.” “All clear?” he asked.
“You could say that,” I answered, showing him the empty revolver.
“Oh, I knew that all along,” he said seriously.
I couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or just trying to save face. Ryan stepped hesitantly up to where we were.
“You’re fine, kid, we probably don’t fit the definition of Good Guys but we sure as hell aren’t the bad ones.” He seemed to relax a bit, especially when he saw how Angel had taken to Tracy .
“Can we come out Ryan?” another voice from the shadows asked.
I grabbed my rifle and slung it over my shoulder.
“Can they mister?” Ryan asked warily.
“It’s Mike and yes, this is your place, we’re the ones intruding.” I could tell Ryan was feeling more comfortable, not completely trusting yet but not fearful either.
“It’s alright guys,” Ryan said.
Three more kids came out from behind the end aisle cap. They were all roughly the same age as Ryan. One was a little taller and looked to be suffering greatly from their gas station food diet. Drakes Cakes were playing hell on his acne. I hadn’t noticed before but Ryan, Angel and the other three castaways were filthy, they looked like orphans from 18th century France . Apparently 21st century America wasn’t as far removed from those troubled times as we had hoped to believe.
“How many more of you are there?” I asked Ryan.
“This is it,” he said with downcast eyes. “Benny and Chirp went home when the end started and they haven’t been back. Dizz and me,” he said, pointing to the aforementioned face-pocked tall kid. “We went to look for them a couple of weeks ago and maybe see what happened to our parents,” he added softly. Angel had finally unburied her face from Tracy ’s chest and was listening intently.
“How far away do you live from here?” I asked.
“Not very, from the back of this rest area you go through the fence, a small woods and then we’re about two streets away. “Half mile maybe?” he asked his friends, looking for validation.
One of the dirtier kids (who was aptly named Sty) just shrugged his shoulders. “Guess so,” he answered in that typical dripping with contempt teenager way.
“What were you guys doing out here?” I asked, just to change the subject. He had lost at least two friends and his parents and probably didn’t want to rehash that again.
“We were sledding, there’s an awesome hill right at the fence,” Ryan said with a ghost of a smile on his face.
“And this store used to have the best chocolate milk,” Dizz added a little melancholy .
“I drank the last one,” Angel said. “Dizz gave it to me. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Dizz said, a little embarrassed.
“Our mom was going to get her hair done,” Ryan said. “She told me I had to take Ang with us if I wanted to go out.” “Daddy wasn’t feeling good, he was cranky and had gone to sleep,” Angel added for good measure.