Convenience

by ~cemetarypolka

  Ducky Short usually avoided using 'convenience' stores. The floors were always grimy, the lighting was too dim for his tired veiny eyes, and the cashiers never spoke more than five words of English. But the thing that irked him most was how every one of them put the Ho-Hos on the very bottom shelf, and every time he would have to find a way to maneuver his long body and old rusty joints into a crouch just so he could reach them.

  He had been struck with a Ho-Ho craving as he was walking by, and since the only store nearby was a tiny convience store, he had no choice but to go in and claim his cakes. There was no controlling this sort of thing. 'Happy Ho Ho emergencies', his mother used to call them, God rest her soul.

  But Ducky hadn't expected a different kind of emergency.

  The bell on the door barely had time to jingle before it was drowned out by a frantic holler.

  "Freeze, everybody! I've got a gun, so no messing around!"

  Ducky's view of the front of the store was blocked by the Ho-Ho shelf he was crouching behind, and he suddenly found himself glad to be down low, despite his aching knees. He may have already lived six decades, but he was sure he had at least one or two left to go. He wasn't going to get shot now-- and here, of all places.

   "Open the register...yeah, into here. You don't have to count it out, just dump it!"

  Ducky imagined the robber wearing a ski mask like in the movies, nervously pointing his gun at the young female cashier, who was most likely a relative of the store owner. He'd probably never done this before.

  "Hey, what're you doing?" The robber demanded.

  Ducky heard the cashier mumble something.

  "Stoppit! Don't move! I said don't move!"

  A gunshot rang through the store, followed by a heavy thump. A few seconds of quiet swearing and frantic shuffling later, Ducky heard the bell jingle again as the robber let himself out.

  Ducky didn't move for a while.

  As soon as he was sure the robber wasn't coming back for a second round, he pocketed a few Ho Hos and slowly stretched his tired body into a standing position. He warily approached the empty counter and peeked over, spotting the cashier girl sprawled on the dirty tile, bloody but still breathing. Her eyes were starting to fade, but she clutched a cell phone in her hand with white knuckles.

  "Excuse me Miss..." Ducky gestured at the phone. "Did you, eh, call the police?"

  Her head wobbled to the side slightly. He took that as a no.

  Going around the counter, he gently pried the phone from her fingers. In his large hands, the thing looked like a child's toy.

  "Well, I'm going to call them, but you can talk, eh?" He entered the three digit number and quickly handed the phone back. The last thing he wanted to deal with on this excruciatingly long day was policemen and the questions they would snipe him with.

  "They'll be here soon." He assured her. "They're usually very prompt."

  She stared at him groggily.

  "I would stay, but I need to be at work soon." He claimed, which wasn't that much of a lie.

  Ducky pocketed a pack of cinnamon gum from the counter on his way out. He only had a 20 dollar bill in his wallet, and the poor girl had no change...he would just be a bother.