ordered two eggs over-easy, hash browns, coffee and an English
muffin. Wait, let me start from the beginning. At first I was stuck
around the outside, unsure where the entrance was. Finally, I found
it. I waited to be seated. It was crowded with lots of people. I sat at the
counter. It didn't bother me that much as long as they were quick with
my food. I'm drinking my coffee and watching the people while waiting
for my food. The guy seated to my left is eating like a pig. I swear to
God I thought I had bad eating habits, but this guy is slurping his food
down in one hell of a hurry. I'm trying to not look, but at the same time
I can't help myself from glancing over. He's got a small piece of yellow
egg yolk hanging from his mustache. Each time he takes a sip of his
coffee, I imagine that the yellow egg yolk will just vanish, but it doesn't,
it just stays there. Plus, the seats here at the counter aren't that far
apart. Sometimes you wish you just had a hidden camera, 'cause no
matter how much you describe something in detail, it's usually never as
good. I mean, you can never describe something picture perfect, you
always leave something out. I sipped at my coffee. I tried to sneak
another look at the man. When I did, he was looking right at me, and he
looked mean as hell. The look on his face gave off the expression of,
"What in the fuck are you looking at?" I was scared, but I had to be hon-
est. I brushed my upper lip with my finger to signal to the man that he
had some food hanging off his mustache. He nodded his head a "thank
you" gesture and cleared the yellow egg yolk with a rag from his back
pocket. I waited for my food. It was taking a long time. I finished two
cups of coffee. Finally, I asked the waiter what the hold-up was.
"Sorry, sir. We're real busy." I sat waiting and looking out the front win-
dows. An odd feeling came over me. The sun was too bright. The
people all seemed too happy. I was watching them all. Most were
completely content talking, eating, drinking, just enjoying a beautiful
Saturday afternoon. I knew that something drastically wrong was
about to go down. I looked out the windows of the restaurant. I
watched the cars going by. It was a very clear and sunny day. A brown
truck pulled to a stop across the road from the restaurant. There
were three men inside. They all were looking over in the direction of
the restaurant. Two got out and started walking over. The brown truck
drove off. My first thought was, "These guys are gonna rob this joint."
I tried to convince myself that I was just getting paranoid. I looked
over to see if that man, the one that was eating like a pig, was still there.
He was gone. Holy shit, I was gonna piss my pants. "He's probably in
the toilet. He's probably working with these guys. He'll probably come
out of the bathroom with a gun drawn and mask on," that's what I was
thinking. Then my food came. It looked good. I decided to give up on
the paranoia. I opened the Al sauce and poured that good-tasting stuff
all over my eggs and hash browns. I clasped my left hand around my
knife and my right around my fork. I was just about to dig in when out
of nowhere a loud, obnoxious voice said, "Okay, nobody fuckin' move,
this is a stick up!" I wanted to chuck something at myself for not follow-
ing my instincts. I knew something was going down. I could have just
gotten right up out of my seat when I saw those two get out of that
truck and walked right out of this restaurant-but, no, I had to tell myself
that I was just being paranoid, and now look where I am. "Everybody
get on the floor!" Everybody was quick to get to the floor. I looked over
to where the two men were. One was ordering the cooks out the
kitchen. They both had nylon masks on. "Is it cool if I keep my food?" I
asked one of them. "Get your ass on the ground! You wanna get
shot?" I picked up my plate of eggs and hash browns and brought them
down to the floor with me. I laid there on my belly eating, while
the two gunmen went around collecting
money. They got to me. They
must have been pissed, 'cause
one of them kicked me in the
ass. "Auh," I said. "Hey, man, be
cool. That hurt." "Stop eating."
"Alright," I said. "I was just about
done anyway." "Give us your
wallet." "I don't have one."
"Then give us your money." I sat
upright and reached into my
pocket. I pulled out a five.
"Here," I said. I must have made
them sick or else they must have
felt sorry for me, 'cause they
82 THRASHER
STORYS BY
didn't take it. I watched the old man seated on my other side. He was
shaking. The old guy was shuddering. He took out his wallet. He had a
nice-looking watch, too. The man that was eating like a pig came out of
the toilet. I think he must have been an undercover cop, 'cause he had
a gun drawn. "Just hold it right there, you two. Don't move." One of the
men took off running. The other was left with his hands up. "Don't
you think about it." The robber dropped the sack of money and began
to run. Boom, boom, boom! Three shots. My head was ducked after the
shots. I was back up and checking out what was happening. The dude
with the mustache, the messy eater, was a fuckin' good shot. He hit the
guy in his right shoulder, left thigh and right calf. He flashed his badge to
an employee. "Dial 911," he said, "and tell them an officer needs assis-
tance." I was still low. A lot of the other people were starting to get up.
Some were starting to crowd around the wounded robber. "Holy shit,
these sons of bitches are nuts," I thought. Oh, no... boom, boom, boom,
boom! My head was down for a second time. I was protecting myself. I
kept my head down a little longer this time and kept both my arms up
by my ears. When the shooting was finished, I looked up. The
cop was shot in the head and chest. It was disgusting. I couldn't
believe it. My God, I was just watching this man not longer than
five minutes ago eating, drinking, moving. Holy
shit, now he's dead. An eerie feeling went
through my whole body. The robbers
took off. I felt weak. I was feeling like
I needed to vomit. They came back
and shot the cop and got their friend.
They got the sack of money, too. I
told the police everything. I told
them that the man who had been.
killed was a good guy. I told them the
robbers were in a brown pickup
truck. I told them that one of the
robbers was injured: right shoulder,
left thigh, right calf. "Do you think
you can describe what the men
looked like?" one policeman asked
me. "No," I said. "They all had on
masks. Everything happened so fast."
DADY
I NEED
HELP WITH
THIS ONE
HE'S HURT
HE'S A GOOD
GUY
M. GONZALES.
SUBJEGKT MATTER
MAY NOT BE SUTIBUAL
FOR KIDS ADULT
ADVISORY
BLOW UP
PUNCHER
itchell Brawn always wanted to be a
good father to his son. He was consid-
ered a noble man to the public. Well,
most of the public would think him noble, but
not all. His job was a complicated one. At night,
it was difficult for him to sleep. Most of the
sleeplessness was related to his work. Mitchell
Brawn
Brawn was married, , now just recently separat-
ed. His wife and kid, Aldo, lived in a pretty
decent-sized house that his job helped pay for.
Just so you know what kind of work it was that
made it
thard for him to sleep. Little Aldo was
running through the yard yelling, "Pow, pow!
You're dead!" He threw his toys around, pre-
tending them to be bad guys. Aldo's father
watched as he played. Aldo was fascinating to
his dad. Aldo carried a rubber blow-up toy in his arms
over to his father. "I need help with this one, daddy.
He's a good guy. He's hurt." Aldo's dad
's dad played
along with him. "What happened to him,
son?" "He got hurt. He's been shot. One of
W
the bad guys got
'im." "Oh, no,"
Aldo's
Aldo's dad said
"We better make
sure he gets t
to the
emergency room in
time." Aldo threw the
plastic toy down
on the floor and
stomped his foot.
"There's not
enough time.
He's gonna die."
Aldo started to
cry. His dad
picked Aldo up and
held him in his arms.
"It's OK, son. He's
gonna be fine." "No,
END OVER END
end overend
end over end
he's dead." Aldo's dad was frightened by how real it
seemed to little Aldo. "That's enough-good guys, bad
guys-for today. Let's go inside and get your things
together. Your mom called this morning, and I have to
have you back early." Aldo was only visiting his dad.
Aldo threw himself on the floor and began to kick and
"Come
scream. Aldo's dad was not sure what to do. "Co
on now, Aldo. Don't be like this. You have a big birth-
Aunt Rebecca's.
day party to go to at your
. It's for your
cousin, Chris. Let's s go. Now come on and stand up!"
was reduced
Aldo stopped kicking, and his screaming was
to mumbling under his breath, "I don't wanna go."
"But you've gotta go." After a
r a few minutes, Aldo
decided to give in and went inside his dad's house to
this things together. His father helped him as he
get his t
as he put
clothes into his yellow Big Bird overnight sack. "Don't
forget your robot." Aldo's dad held out the small
robot for Aldo to take hold of. Aldo was still a little
mad. He snatched the robot from his father's hands.
Aldo's dad got mad and told Aldo
things
got mad old Aldo to never grab t
that way. Aldo stayed quiet. After a short while, Aldo
had his things together, then he and his father got in
Aldo
the car and drove over to his mother's house.
was sad, so the ride was mostly quiet. His dad tried
was
cheering him up by suggesting places they could go on
his next visit. Aldo continued to stare out the window
his next visit
and not say anything. Aldo's father dreaded dropping
Aldo off. They drove down the street that Aldo and
his mother lived on. Aldo's dad pulled the car to the
curbside a few houses away from Aldo's. Aldo
remained quiet and kept his head turned away from
his father. Aldo's dad asked, "Are you gonna behave
like a big
e a big boy at your Aunt Rebecca's house?" Aldo
didn't answer. Aldo's dad didn't know how to
change Aldo's mood. Then suddenly, it hit him.
"Aldo," he said in a surprised voice. Aldo turned
his head around slowly to see what his dad want-
ed. "You wanna see something important?" Aldo
shrugged his shoulders. Aldo's dad pulled out his
wallet and flipped it open so that his bright gold
police badge was showing. Aldo looked at it, and
suddenly the gloomy look vanished from I his face.
Aldo asked, "What is it?" "It's an official good guy
badge." Aldo put out his hand to touch it. His dad
pointed to the name on the badge. "See this
here?" Aldo kept looking at its
tits shininess.
"Yeah?"
"That's mine and your name. It's our family
name." Aldo asked to hold it. His dad handed the
wallet to Aldo. Aldo looked at it a
I at it and looked at it
and could hardly take his eyes off
s off it. "When you get
older, if you can abide by all the rules and do what
older, if you
you're told, you will someday have an official good guy
you're our father." Aldo smiled. He loved his dad.
badge like your
I
The two were enjoying a short, quiet moment when a
knock on the car window interrupted them. It was
Aldo's mom. The window came down automatically.
"Hey, what are you two doing in there?" Aldo smiled
at his mother then looked over to his father. Aldo's.
dad made a "Shhh..." sound. "That's big boy's busi-
ness," he whispered. Aldo smiled even bigger, then
WE!
boy."
As
hugged his father. "Are you all set for Chris' birthday
party?" Aldo's mom asked. "Yes," Aldo answered.
Aldo's mother and father normally didn't speak to one
another face to face, but this time some words were
12?"
be
exchanged. "Can you believe Chris is gonna
Aldo's mother said to his father. "It's incredible. It
I a month ago.
seems as though he was just turning
Boy, time flies." "Yes, time flies..." Aldo's dad suggest-
ed that maybe Aldo take a nap at Rebecca's, but Aldo
protested, saying, "I don't need to nap, dad. I'm a big
"As Aldo and his mother walked away from the
car to the house, Aldo's dad watched. If it wasn't Aldo
fussing about being dropped off, then it was him sad to
have to see his son go. Aldo and his mom waved to
Mitchell as he drove off. He wanted to invite himself
to the party over at Rebecca's, but he knew he was
gonna have to start distancing himself from his wife's
family. He looked in the rear-view mirror and watched
as the house got smaller and smaller. As he drove on,
he switched on the radio. It was tuned in to News 98.
There was news about Zaire on. He switched the
channel to FM. There was music. It was The Kinks.
That song "All Day And All Of The I Night" was playing.
He remembered playing that song repeatedly back
, it was
when he was courting Aldo's mother. He switched the
radio off. When he was stopped at a traffic light, he
examined himself in the mirror. The person behind
him honked. He looked away
away from the mirror and
realized that the light was green. He drove on. When
he spotted a diner, he thought, "Eating would be a
good idea." He pulled into the parking lot. He got
out of his car and entered the restaurant. It was pret-
ty crowded. After it was
as a Saturday afternoon. He
didn't wait to be
be seated. He just sat at the counter.
guy. He ord
ordered his
ver
sat a seat over from an old guy. He
lee.
He
food-eggs sunny-side up, sausage, biscuits and cof-
fee. When his food came, he hadn't realized how hun-
gry he was. He ate in a rush. Then he felt eyes on him.
He looked over. A young man had just sat down
beside him. Now eating seemed uncomfortable. He
could feel the young man's eyes on him. He looked up
from his plate of food and over to the
the young man. The
young man turned his head to pretend he was not
watching. Mitchell took a sip of his coffee. It was good
a sip on
vas goou
and rich. "Probably Colombian," that's what he was
thinking when he set his coffee cup back down. He
looked over in the young man's direction to see if he
was still staring. The young man brushed his upper lip.
Mitchell took this as a sign that he had food stuck to
his mustache, so he reached into his back pocket
into his
and pulled out a hanky to clean it off. A strange feeling
went through his bones. He didn't know how or why,
but this
in some way resembled his son,
young
Aldo. He then realized that he wished he had invited
himself over to Rebecca's. He got up from his seat
to use the phone. He hesitated at first, but then
dialed the number. He was afraid that they might
have already left. He knew he was right when no
one answered. He hung up the phone and began
to return to his seat.
man
83