Beyond the Western
Leroy and the Kid
Scott A. Gese

The kid stood quiet, as if contemplating something. Image source: Pixabay

The punk figured Leroy was an easy mark. He figured wrong.

Beyond the Western

Leroy Martin had just finished stocking the cigarette shelves behind the counter when a young man walked into his store.

“What can I do for you kid?”

The kid stood quiet, as if contemplating something. Red flags went up in Leroy’s mind. He had seen this before. His store had already been robbed twice. He wasn’t a stranger to the signs.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” remarked Leroy. He knew the kid was thinking about either pulling a gun or walking back out the door.

“What are you carrying?” Asked Leroy.

The kid turned his attention to Leroy. “What?”

“I asked you what you were carrying. I’ve seen kids like you before. I know you’re deciding whether to pull a weapon or walk out the door. You’d be better off walking out the door.”

“What do you know about it, pops.”

“I know your type. You either got a knife or a pea shooter in your pocket. Either way, you should keep it there and walk. Ever been to the big house?”

“Big house?”

“Ya, the state pen. It ain’t nothing like the county lockup.”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been to both. You’re a good looking kid. You’ll end up as somebody’s bitch. I can guarantee you that ”

“Wouldn’t happen. I know self defense. I can take a man down no matter how big he is.”

“You won’t be dealing with just one, and that’s a fact.”

“I could just off you on my way out and no one would know. I’d never get caught.”

“You don’t know the ways of the world, kid. I got security here you aren’t even aware of. You’ll be caught whether I’m around or not. I’m assuming it’s a pea shooter you got. Either pull it or walk out the door. I’m getting tired of this conversation.”

Leroy was hoping the kid had at least a flicker of intelligence about him and would walk. His hopes were dashed when the kid pulled a 9mm from his jacket. “I’ve made my decision. Hand over the cash.”

“Well, A 9mm. That ain’t no pea shooter.”

You got that right, pops, now hand it over.”

Leroy emptied the register and the kid ran for the door. He wasn’t expecting it to be locked. He hit it hard and it dazed him. When he turned back toward Leroy he was looking down the barrel of a .45. “I told you I had security here.”

“As an ex-con it’s illegal for you to have that gun. How are you going to explain that. We might be cell mates,” the kid remarked sarcastically.

“I lied,” replied Leroy. “I’m Not an ex-con. I’m just a man trying to protect what’s his. I gave you a chance didn’t I?”

As the cops cuffed the kid, Leroy spoke up. “Do send word and tell me if I was wrong… about the Bitch thing.”