Historical February 1986 report or notice. Original dates, prices and contacts describe the source period; current availability has not been established.
He stood motionless, his back arched against the wall of the fast-food restaurant.
In his hands he held some bills and change along with a newspaper. Around him, everything was silent except for the noise of the gunmen.
He could hear them breathing although they were still many feet from him.
They sounded like they were running, their breath came out in snorts and gasps, even though they had been standing still for minutes now. Or was it just seconds?
One of the robbers pushed a young girl to the floor because he had found her purse empty.
Her body made a muffled sound as it hit and the noise from her head smacking the floor made a crack that echoed against the glass windows and off the freshly mopped tile floor.
An impulse to intervene, to do something, ran through his mind, but he thought better. What, after all, could he do anyway?
There were about six other people in the restaurant, not counting the two or three people working, and none of them were doing anything either.
It was night out, he had left the house after the sports had come on the 10:00 p.m. news, and although the restaurant was on a busy street, a car hadn’t come by since the gunmen had entered.
It must be just seconds then, he thought.
They were both kids, teenagers probably.
One was going from person to person, taking wallets and putting them into a shopping bag.
When he’d come to a woman with a purse, he’d empty the purse into the bag.
The other kid stood silently with his gun waving rapidly back and forth, watching everyone in the restaurant.
There hadn’t been any violence until the lady was pushed to the floor.
She was still lying there now, sobbing, but she hadn’t moved or tried to get up.
One of the gunmen, the taller of the two, was now just in front of him.
He felt a hand push his head down and was afraid to look up.
The newspaper was knocked to the floor and his hand with the money was pulled to the paper bag where he released the bills and change. “God,” he thought to himself, “take the money, take the wallet, but please don’t hurt me.” The muffled voice came from below the ski-mask, the words barely audible beneath the heavy breathing and panic. “Give me your wallet, man!” The words were whispered, but the voice screamed.
The kid sounded as scared as he felt. “Don’t panic,” he thought as he reached for his wallet.
He tried to move his hand slowly and steadily, so as to not scare the already scared robber. Pain erupted on his head and he felt himself being pushed against the wall, “Now, man!” the robber seemed to scream, the barrel of the gun being, pushed far into his stomach.
He tried to ignore the pain in his head and get his wallet out, but he couldn’t get his hand in his back pocket. “I, I …” he tried to say, but the gunman pulled the gun back in one swift motion and brought it down on his temple.
He fell to the floor in pain and fear and humiliation.
Before anything else could happen he heard the sirens. First they were distant and then, suddenly, the room was afire with the peal of the metallic scream.
The plastic room, filled with bright lamps and smiling clown faces on the walls, suddenly grew dark as all the lights went out.
At the same time the room lit up with the on-off-on-off-on-off of the flashing red police lights.
The quiet room came alive with curses and screams and shouts from all directions.
The lady who was lying on the floor began to wail and cry for help. Several voices from across the room yelled “help” and “get them!” and other words that he couldn’t understand. Movement was everywhere, tables being knocked over and people running.
He didn’t know what to do.
The wallet was still in his pocket and the gunman was not next to him.
His only thought was of getting out of the restaurant before the gunman came back to him.
He was hurting, he was feeling pain, and he wanted to run.
He stood up and the pain in his head grew worse, striking and striking again like a snake inside his brain.
He felt tears rushing down his face and he began to run. Only he couldn’t find the door.
He stood up and turned and was blinded by the red flashings—coming from all directions it seemed—in his eyes.
The red lights made his head hurt even more.
He turned and turned and started to run. First he saw the explosion, then he felt it, and finally then he heard the blast of red and yellow light that exploded into his side.
He couldn’t get his breath and he couldn’t feel anything except pain.
He saw himself fall slowly, very slowly, to the floor.
The pain got worse and he couldn’t breathe or think about anything except the hurt.
The room was filled with the pain and the red lights flashing and more pain and then the sound of explosions and more explosions. Then everything got very quiet and very dark.
And he knew no more.
In Your Ear
“Jesus,” Eddie thought, “I can’t believe we’re really holding up this place!” It seemed like fun when they were planning it while drinking wine and beer.
But to go through with it?
Well, Eddie was a little surprised and more than a little scared. Eddie and Leo, his cousin, had talked often of how easy it would be to rob the fast-food place at the corner and take some bucks for cigarettes or wine or beer or for taking out girls.
They had talked about it so long that it seemed like they had done it.
The wine and beer and cheap talk had made it seem easy. Then Leo came home with two guns that he had taken from his stepfathers’ closet and, well, hell, why not? Eddie was scared, though.
When they had planned the robbery, they figured that it would take two or three minutes, tops.
Now Leo was walking around with a bag, taking wallets and money from purses, and, dammit, it was taking forever!
The people were all scared and Eddie laughed to himself. “Those suckers,•’ he thought, “dopes. It’s what they get.” Eddie had to take a deep breath, he felt like he was running and he couldn’t get enough air to his lungs.
The ski-mask was warm, no, hot, on Eddie’s face.
He felt the sweat rolling down his forehead onto his cheeks. Eddie wished that he had some wine now. Eddie was afraid, but it was fun to wave the gun at these stupid people standing there.
Each time he waved the gun he could see the people turn away in fright. “You ought to be afraid of me,” he thought, “I’m the boss now.” That lady over against the wall, she looked like his dad’s new girlfriend. Eddie pointed the gun at her and smiled to himself when she bent over from fear. “This is for you, dad” he thought. Leo said something and Eddie turned to see Leo push a girl to the floor.
Her head made a sickening sound as it hit the floor and Eddie closed his eyes for a second. “God, Leo,” he thought, “don’t hurt anybody.
We talked about that before.” But Eddie was afraid to say anything to Leo. Leo could get a little crazy at times, Eddie knew.
They had kind of grown up together, and Leo was always the one that the guys could get to take the risk that scared the rest of them. “I shouldn’t have let Leo have a gun,” Eddie thought.
His eyes looked around the restaurant and Eddie smiled again and forgot about Leo.
All these people were standing, waiting, for him!
He kind of felt good and wanted this to go on and on.
The money would be good, he could buy a new stereo, but it was really nice to have all of them waiting for him to tell them what to do. Eddie looked over to Leo now. Leo was standing by an old guy with a newspaper when, all of a sudden, Eddie pushed the old guy’s head down.
The old guy was funny, Eddie thought. Leo asked the man for his wallet and Eddie smiled inside because the old man was so scared that he was shaking. Eddie could taste the sweat from his head because some of it ran into his mouth.
It made him think some more of the wine he had been drinking. Something happened and Eddie missed it, but when he looked over he saw Leo hit the guy in the head with the butt of the gun.
The old man fell to the ground. Eddie started to tell Leo to be careful and not hurt the old man, but before he could say anything he heard a noise. “What’s that?
My God, a siren?” he thought to himself. “Oh yes, oh yes, it is a siren!” Eddie didn’t know what to do now and he began to wave his gun. “Come on, Leo,” he thought, “hurry up, hurry up, come on man, let’s go, come on, come on, hurry man!” Everything went dark. Eddie looked out the window now and saw not one, but three or maybe four or maybe five cars with flashing red lights and sirens.
The noise!
All he could hear was sirens and noise and where was Leo? Eddie dropped to the floor and began rubbing the gun he held in his hand. “Man, this is dumb” he thought.
And he thought of the wine and beer and Leo. Where was Leo?
The noise was louder now and the red lights on-off-on-off-on-off made him sweat even more. “Leo, let’s go, let’s go. Where’s Leo?” There were all kinds of noises now in the room but he didn’t know where Leo was. “Leo, where are you?” Eddie cried out. Then something moved and began running.
But it wasn’t Leo. “Leo is in trouble” Eddie thought, “Where’s Leo?” And the person who was running ran toward him and Eddie was scared and Leo was gone and Eddie raised his gun and pointed and shot.
The explosion scared Eddie and the pain hurt his ears and the force from the gun pushed his hand back against his face.
The person fell to the floor. Then all kind of shots rang out.
The room was alive with explosions and flashes and noises. “Leo, where’s Leo?” Eddie wondered and he stood up.
His body with the gun in his hand was silhouetted against the tile wall, the red flashing lights showing someone standing and holding a pistol.
He was an easy target for the policemen kneeling and squatting outside their cars. Eddie never felt a thing as the bullets tore into his body.
He slumped down as quickly as he had stood up. Everything got very quiet and very dark.
And he knew no more.
Originally published in The Times of Skinker-DeBaliviere, February 1986.
Read this article in the original newspaper issue.
Archival transcription note: In second narrative source says Eddie pushed the old man’s head down while surrounding actions identify Leo. Printed name retained.
Original source: SD_Times1986_02.pdf, printed page(s) 8; PDF page(s) 8.
