The Broken Date

'2': Part 1

Jack's POV:

Keeping low behind the jewelry case, I stared through the glass at the back of Mark's head, at his broad shoulders as he gestured furiously with the pistol, and at the silver weapon as shiny as the jewel in his hand. Why is he doing this? Why is he doing this---to us?

I had a sudden impulse to jump up, call out to him, to tell him to stop.

"Open the register. Hurry!" He yelled, glancing quickly to the front of the narrow store. His voice sounded different, strained, scared.

I retreated until my back was against the wall. I ducked down lower behind the case. I knew I couldn't call out to him. I was too frightened, too shocked to move. I wanted to become invisible, just disappear.

Mark looked nervously around the store again, and I pulled back tighter against the wall. My phone dropped out of my grasp. My phone fell the the floor. My heart jumped. I grabbed my phone.

Had he heard?

No.

"Hurry it up, old man, or you're history!" He yelled in that fierce, frightened voice. He jabbed the barrel of the pistol into the little man's chest.

I stared into the case at a necklace of silver loops. As I gazed at it, the necklace seemed to change it's shape. The loops shimmered before me, then blurred then seemed to break apart and shatter into glowing pieces of dust.

Broken, just like my life, I thought.

The store manager's high-pitched shout snapped me back to reality. "You're a bastard."

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut the fuck up!" Mark screamed, poking the old man's ribs with the pistol. "Empty the register---now!"

"That's all I got, you bastard," The little man said. His face had gone beyond red. It was as purple as a plum. "Did you hear? You're a bastard!"

I cried at the sound of the first pistol shot. It sounded like someone popping a paper bag in the lunchroom at school.

A bright circle of blood formed on the store manager's shirtfront. His dark face paled. His eyes grew wide in surprise.

With the sound of the second shot, he let out a low groan. His hands gripped his chest, and he dropped heavily to the floor.

As Mark leaned over the counter to reach into the into the register drawer, I leaped to my feet.

Would I be able to run? Will my legs work?

Yes. I grasped my phone tightly in my hand, I ran down the long aisle of the store, ran without breathing without seeing, without looking back.

It seemed like a mile. It seemed like a hundred miles.

I pushed open the glass door and ran out of the store.

Did he see me? Did he recognize me?

I didn't wait to find out. My heart pounding, the pop of the gunshots repeating again and again in my ears, I tried to hide in the blur of moving people as I hurried away from the jewelry store.

It felt good to be moving, to be part of a crowd. But I couldn't get the little man's look of surprise out of my eyes, couldn't get the strange sound of Mark's desperate voice out of my ears.

Ahead of me, a little boy was crying. What was in his hand? Was it an ice-cream cone, an empty ice-cream cone?

"Look out!" a woman shouted.

Suddenly my right shoe slid from under me, and I fell. "Ow!" I groaned, and realized I had stepped into the ice cream that had fallen from the little boy's cone. He started to cry even louder. His mother looked down at me, offered a quick, "Sorry about that," and pulled the bawling kid away.

Aware of a crowd of people staring at me, I started to pull myself up. "Hey, why didn't you give that kid his ice cream back?" Felix said, appearing from nowhere. He helped me up to my feet. "I can't take you anywhere, can I? Well, what do you think?" He pointed to the bright blue high-tops on his feet.

I stared at the shoes, but couldn't say anything.

"You're speechless, right?" Felix said, pulling me away from the circle of ice cream on the tiled floor.

"Well, I know they're a little more blue than most people would want, but they were such a bargain that I---" Felix suddenly realized that I was upset.

"Hey, don't sweat it. The ice cream will come off your shoe. It's only vanilla so it shouldn't be a problem. Did you hurt yourself when you fell?"

"I saw a robbery," I blurted out.

"What?"

"I saw a robbery. In the Diamond Ranch." Saying the words gave me chills down my back. I began to tremble violently.

"You look sick," Felix said, taking my arm. "Are you ok?"

"No," I said, my voice a whisper.

"Uh. . .well. . .the Slurp Shop is right across the walk. Let's sit down and have a soda or something. Would that help?"

"No," I said. "I think I want to go home."

Both of us looked toward the Diamond Ranch in time to see two concerned-looking mall security guards running inside, their hands on their gun holsters. We could hear the low whine of a siren in the distance.

"A man was shot," I said, my voice shaking.

"And you saw it?" Felix asked, sounding more impressed than concerned. "Then, you're a witness. Don't you think you'd better stay and talk to the police?"

"No!" I shouted, a bit too loudly. "I couldn't. I mean, I can't. I---maybe later. I've got to get home."

Should I tell Felix the most horrible part of it all? Should I tell him that it was Mark who shot the store manager?

"Maybe you'll get in trouble for leaving the scene of a crime," Felix suggested. "Maybe it makes you an accessory or something. This is exciting!"

"You've been watching too many TV shows," I muttered impatiently. "Come on, Felix. Are you going to take me home or not?"

Felix looked disappointed. "Ok. Of course. This way. The car is on the other side."

-A few minutes later-

I collapsed onto the front seat of the Toyota and closed my eyes. Felix climbed behind the wheel and began to search his pockets for the keys. "Do you think the man died?" He asked.

"Mark shot him twice. In the chest," I said, my eyes still closed.

Third time...I had to type this..WHY WATTPAD WHY?!