When my grandfather retired he promptly found that he was bored with no work to do. Seeing that he could afford it he bought into a little general store up in the mountains, one serving the local community. He didn't get much custom and I doubt that he made much of a profit but that was irrelevant as he had a nice pension that supported him. As long as he wasn't actually losing money on the deal he was happy.
So everything was fine until suddenly it wasn't. My grandmother called me, whining about selfish old men who expected her to run the store for a couple of weeks, and there was no way known that she was going to do it. Her solution was for me to take a couple of weeks off and do it for her.
Asked why my grandfather was missing in action it turned out he was in hospital in a degree of pain with some kidney stones. The hospital was working on breaking them down and giving him medication to soothe the worst of the pain. He was going to be away for another week or so and my grandmother was not going to run the store.
Knowing my grandmother's propensity for garnering ill-will when she didn't get her way I agreed to act as stand-in and the next day found me driving into the mountains to become a shopkeeper.
The work was dead easy as the customers were few and far between. The store was nicely stocked and all I had to do was check stock levels every so often so I could order in further stock if required, which so far it wasn't.
I was thinking about closing up one afternoon when the wind-chimes that tinkle when the door opens sounded and I knew I probably had a last minute customer. I say probably as those chimes also tinkled whenever a gust of wind came through the gap at the top of the door. I kept intending to put some sort of sealer up there but hadn't got around to it. I suspect that my grandfather was the same, intending to but not doing.
It turned out that it wasn't quite a customer. I found myself looking at some kid wearing a ski-mask and sporting a gun.
"Why aren't you in school, kid?" I asked him, "instead of here wasting my valuable time."
"I'm not a kid," came a muffled and irritated voice. "Give me a packet of cigarettes."
"We don't stock them," I promptly replied.
"What? Yes you do. You know you do. Now give me a packet."
"OK, keep your hair on. What brand?"
"What?"
"What brand?" I repeated. "We have . . ." I started reeling off all the brands, packet sizes, menthol, non-menthol, etcetera.
"Marlboro," came the urgent request, rudely breaking into my spiel.
"Just plain," was hurriedly added when it looked as those I was going to ask for further specifications.
"Driver's license?" I asked.
"Eh?"
"It's illegal for a shopkeeper to provide cigarettes to someone under age and you certainly seem under age to me. Therefore I need to see your driver's license or some other form of ID, such as your school pass."
"Are you kidding me? I'm not showing you my license."
"Haven't got one," I said with satisfaction. "Under age, like I thought."
"Just give me the damned packet." He was yelling now, sounding pissed off. Worse was to come for him because the wind-chimes chose that moment to start tinkling. His head turned to look towards the door and I took certain steps. A large step to my left took me away from the front of the gun and meant he would be slow moving his aim to follow me. Before he could do so my hand landed on his and closed tight. I'm a big man and quite powerful and what I take hold of doesn't move until I want it to.
He was yelling at me to let go, tugging at his hand and getting nowhere. Meanwhile I took hold of the gun with my other hand and started pulling on it.
"You've got a choice, kid," I told him. "You can let go the gun or lose a finger. Your choice."
He held on for a moment longer and then relinquished the gun. I went to unload it and then took a hasty second look. The damn thing was just a model. A very good model, but still a model. I tossed it to one side, reached over, and pulled off his ski-mask.
Her ski-mask, I should say as the elfin face looking at me with tears in her eyes didn't belong to any boy.
"You rotten brute," she hissed at me. "You'd have torn my finger off and laughed while you did it."
"Oh don't be so melodramatic," I told her. "I knew you'd let go the gun as soon as a finger broke."
The look she gave me indicated that my reasoning didn't find any favour with her.
I still kept a grip on her wrist as I came around the counter to examine my prize. I looked her over but didn't say anything. What I did do was head over to the door, turned the open sign to closed, and lock the door.
"So, kid, you never did say why you're here trying to pinch a packet of cigarettes instead of at school. Can't buy them normally because of your age?"
"I keep telling you I'm not a kid," she yelled. "I'm an adult. I've graduated."
I ran my eyes over her again, lingering at her bust. True, there were bulges under her sloppy top, but they weren't very big.
"Sure, kid," I told her, casting a disbelieving look at her bust line. "You just keep telling yourself that."
She was almost spitting she was so furious.
"The robbery lark?" I said, making a coaxing gesture with my free hand to encourage her to talk.
"I wouldn't have actually robbed you," she sulked. "I intended to pay for them. The whole thing was a dare."
"So you're really an adult and you'd have paid up. I believe you."
The tone of my voice gave the lie to that statement.
"Well, it's true," she snapped.
"Doesn't really matter," I told her. "I'll find out the truth soon enough. I just have to wait and see if the cops try you as an adult or stick you in the Juvie system."
"Cops?" she asked, sounding shocked.
"Of course cops," I said. "I mean, you tried to hold me up. You threatened me with a gun. I was terrified."
"You were not. You were laughing at me the entire time. It was a fake gun, anyway, and you know it."
"Doesn't matter. The cops will still charge you with attempted armed robbery. You'll probably just get sent to a juvie home until you're of age. Of course, if you are an adult you're more likely to be facing time but only one or two years."
She went white.
"Jail. But it was just a dare. I'd have paid for them, I swear. It wasn't even a real gun. You can't call the police. I'd get into so much trouble."
"The point is that you're supposed to think of the consequences before you do something this stupid," I pointed out. "What if my grandfather had been behind the counter? He's an old man. You might have given him a heart attack and then you'd have had manslaughter charges on top of everything else. I can assure you that I am really displeased about this whole affair."
