Love and Glory

A rumbling engine and a chorus of crickets. A few parties, loud enough to be heard booming through into the late night air for scant passing moments. The world looked different now. Hot summer nights had faded into memories and the cold was pushing into the season's territory. The rider atop the engine felt the wind flow around his face like a cleansing shower, blowing away the doubts the day had left him with while he chewed on a piece of sugary bubblegum.
 
Most businesses that were open this late wouldn't let Berry through the door. But convenience stores weren't picky. The Now-Mart's green and white sign made it look like a pharmacy or a gas station, but it was just bodega. He'd used his first fake I.D here. The owner saw through it easily enough - he was fourteen, not twenty-two.
 
Berry activated the thumb-lock on the scooter and parked it up by the side of the street, lifting a satchel bag off from the rack and marching through the door to the tune of an automated bell. Ding-Dong. 'Yo, Rube.' He punctuated his greeting by popping his gum and giving a loose-wristed salute.
 
Rubel was the owner's son. He was good people, as far as Berry could judge. 'Berry. You paying or am I calling the cops tonight?' He was half joking. Seventy percent joking. Three quarters kidding. He'd caught Berry trying to shoplift a couple times, some years back, but let him off on the virtue of Berry being young enough to get away with it. He wasn't that young now.
 
'It's all good, Rube. I've got cash, I've got cash. How's the night?' He picked up one of the ratty recycled baskets and dumped his satchel into it. The late-night chirping of the store's music was just barely audible - set low by Rubel, so he could watch things on his phone when there were no customers. Some old, cheap or free song - I heard you mention my name, can you talk any louder~... 'Any sign of that cryptid dude I told you about?' Berry reeled his jacket's sleeved up to his elbows - to show Rube he wasn't slipping anything up them.
 
Rube was sat back on the chair behind the counter, watching Berry on the camera while sipping his cola. It took a customer like Berry to make him put his phone down. 'The math teacher? Why would I care?'
 
'He's weird, or something. I don't know. I hear things.' The basket was being steadily filled. Box of soda cans. Bulk bags of potato chips. Discounted sandwiches that would be thrown out in a few hours if they didn't sell. As much as Berry could afford to be a cheapskate with.
 
'No. Saw an Amish guy, though.'
 
Berry perked up and looked over the aisle towards him. 'What? No you didn't.'
 
'I swear. Had the hat and everything.'
 
'The fuck? Here? How's that possible?' A fistful of candy bags. Mixed ones. A bag of sour, a bag of sweet, and a little tub of miniature chocolate bars. Halloween specials. The store's song kept going. But I can't say the words you want to hear~.
 
'Yeah man. Funkiest guy I've seen in weeks. How do those hats even stay on?'
 
Berry squatted down to look at the cartons of fruit juice. How do the hats stay on? They're just hats aren't they? What did he mean?
 
Ding Dong.
 
Two people stepped in. 'Hey man,' she let it roll out, slow, like man were a four syllable word. 'You got any scratch cards?' The other one stepped over to the upright display refrigerator. Shifted his head around the two-minute microwave meals. You may not be an old fashioned girl, but you're gonna get dated~.
 
Berry was watching through a break in the aisle. Rube spoke up. 'We don't do scratch cards, sorry about that.' He was on edge. The woman was tall, wearing a thick glossy jacket and sunglasses so bulky you could see them from behind her. The man stepped along the row of cases, his body covered up by a raincoat. He was looking over his shoulder every few steps, checking through the aisles.
 
One of these nights, then. Berry knew a lookout when he saw one. He'd been one, before. A better one. This guy was moving too fast, too suspiciously.
 
He kept low, and slipped between the aisles as the lookout checked them. The woman let out a sigh, long and melodramatic. 'Damn, damn, damn. I was really looking to win big tonight, y'know?' Oh she was one of those ones. A performance-thief. A bragger, almost justified by the corny song playing for her. There are some things you can't cover up with lipstick and powder~.
 
'All clear!' the lookout yelled once he made it to the last aisle. He reached into his raincoat and pulled out a sawn-off shotgun while charging towards the front.
 
'Looks like this is how I'm winning big after all!' Berry could almost read her script for her. He watched through the slots of the aisle as she took out a revolver and vaulted the desk, sending the papers, leaflets and ads scattering. Rube floundering, the wheels on his chair rolling him into the corner. 'Open the register!'
 
Rube wanted to say something, but he was in shock.
 
'Open it! Now!' She kicked his chair to shake him. Berry tensed up. This was bad. He looked around the aisle for a weapon-
 
'HEY! FUCK! You missed one! Get the fuck over here!' She saw Berry on Rube's camera. Shit. Improvise, Berry. This is what you're good at.
 
'Alright! Alright. I'm coming out, okay?' He held his hands up and stepped out of the aisle.
 
'Open the fucking register!' She waved the gun at Rube, then back to Berry. 'Get over here! Up front! Hurry it up!' Her cohort levelled the shotgun at Berry as he stepped into the open.
 
'I'm here. We're all good, yeah? We're all peachy.' Berry's eyes moved fast. Shotgun. Revolver. Rube. Fuck. Gotta' think fast. Gotta' stay in control. How would Crea handle this? Laser beams. Don't have those. Shit. How would Jacob? No idea. Something spooky. Dan? Teleport behind them, grab the guns. Not an option.
 
What would dad do?
 
'Why the revolver?' Berry tried to look calm. Unbothered.
 
'What?'
 
'The revolver. Why? It's an intimidating gun, for sure, but any gun's intimidating when it's in your face.' Stay cool. Make them acknowledge it.
 
'The fuck? Kid, I will blow you the fuck away if you don't shut the hell up.' They weren't looking at Rube. This was good. Better, at least. A small part of Berry remembered that he had never tried to dodge a bullet before. He didn't like that he thought of that right then.
 
'No, for real though. Why? Because it's a classic? Best you could find?' Berry took a half-step forward, his eyes bouncing over to the lookout.
 
'Shut the fuck up.' The shotgun was pointed straight at him now. 'You shut the fuck up.'
 
'Open it!' She yelled at Rube. He was cowering, trying - and failing - to get it open, his hands were shaking so hard.
 
'Look at him, shaking like a leaf, you're scaring him. Hell, you're shaking too. First time?' Berry's knees were shaking - but he could hide that. He just needed to get them riled up a little to open up an opportunity.
 
She aimed back at Berry. Both guns were pointed at him. She stepped around the counter, angry-panic in her eyes. 'What the fuck do you think you are?' She stepped in, closing the distance more.
 
'Sure, yeah, I guess you might not miss from there. Maybe take another step closer to be sure.' Overdoing it now. Too much. Cool it down, Berry.
 
She twisted her head to her lookout, then back to the boy. She wanted to step forward, but she felt like it was a trap. She wrapped both hands around the revolver. 'Don't think I won't fuck you up just because you're a kid.'
 
Her hands were steady. Clear. Still. Good. Berry wasn't particularly religious, but some distinct echo of a prayer sounded out through his mind. This could work. Surely. Why not? It made sense, right? Yeah. Yeah, it was going to work. Do it, he told himself, hard, egging himself on.
 
Berry spat the bubblegum out. Time slowed to a crawl as it soared through the air, a strange, dense pink chunk. With the grace of fate and the deft precision Berry had been imbued with, it hit its mark - and glued itself onto the revolver's hammer.
 
The second it landed he was moving. He ducked, weaved and propelled himself towards the shotgun, grabbing the barrel and forcing it down to the ground. A loud, muted click - the revolver failing to fire. Berry's palm slammed up into the lookout's chin, forcing him back while Berry pulled on the shotgun. In his shock, he let it go, and Berry slammed the butt of it into the man's belly, sending him sprawling backwards.
 
A second click - the revolver, again. He spun around and used the shotgun to smack the it out of her hands, then kicked it out of the air to send it spinning down into the aisles. In a fluid motion he snapped the shotgun open on his knee and hucked the shells out before tossing the weapon over the counter, next to a stunned Rube.
 
The lookout charged, grabbing Berry from behind and lifting him up as the woman picked up a glass bottle and swung it. Before it could connect Berry kicked a foot up and into her arm, removing the momentum from the swing. He then slammed his head back into the man's face, twice, three times, and on the fourth he let the boy go and stumbled backwards to cradle his chin.
 
Another swing. Berry sidestepped it, grabbing her wrist before leaping over the counter towards Rube, dragging her forward with him until her body slammed against the side and her wrist was twisted around.
 
The lookout was bounding out the door when Berry let her wrist free. 'You can go, too, y'know.' Berry said to her while she recoiled back, grasping her twisted wrist. She looked around - she wasn't even sure what for - before she sprinted out. Ding Dong.
 
Then, silence. Silence broken up by the song still playing. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, girls talk~. Rube caught his breath, gulp by gulp. 'Is-... Was-... Berry, are you-'
 
'Yeah, I'm cool. Y'sure he was amish, though?'
 
'Wh-... What?'
 
'Why would there be a problem with the hat staying on? They just wear hats, don't they?'
 
Rubel's eyes drunkenly danced between Berry, the shotgun, the mess. 'Wha-... What do-'
 
Berry dealt with adrenaline by trying to act like he had none. By pretending to be calm, he would feel calm. He knew, deep in his heart, that what he did was possibly the coolest, most ridiculous crime-fighting bout of heroics he had ever pulled off. But acting like it was no big deal would just make it even more impressive to-... Just Rubel. Still. Worth it.
 
He came back to the checkout with his basket, planting a hand down on the counter as Rube spoke on the phone. Police. 'So, do I get all this for free or what?'