The Forgotten Man

April 3rd

You stepped aside and out of his line of sight. I saw him blink as you moved out and shake his head before turning to me. "Fill 'er up. Make it quick."

I popped open the cash register with trembling fingers and grabbed a double handful of bills. Pulling the bag a little closer, I filled it with every bill in the machine. It didn't take long before I was out. All day I had been handing out money and receiving very little, I was nearing the time where I would need to replenish my stock.

"That's it?" the man at the with the knife barked, waving his blade around. "Get more. Now! I'm not doing all this for some chump-change. Hurry up, or we'll start cutting people up, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," my hoarse voice said without me willing it to speak. My tongue kept licking my parched lips and I felt as though my entire body was trying to make itself as small as it could. Somewhere, a little boy was crying in his father's arms, the sound hushed by the adult's shoulder.

I ran off to the back, pushing open the walk-in safe while fondling for my keys within my pockets. The steel doors of the box I chose popped open and I scooped out wads of bills into the bag, ignoring those that fell to the floor.

I returned in time to see the gun-bearing thief twist his revolver around, holding it by the barrel as he lifted it above his head. In a sweeping arc, he brought it back down and smashed it against the elderly man's head. A dull thud sounded out as the grizzled elder fell to the side.

You twitched, face darkening until the veins along your forehead threatened to pop. Taking a long stride forwards, you grabbed one of the poles holding up the red cordons serving as a divider. With a quick tug, you yanked the rope out, tossing it to the ground where it hung a few centimetres above the floor. Holding the pole like a baseball bat, you walked up behind the knife-holding robber.

"Hey, you," you said, your panting turning the statement into a hoarse gasp.

He began to turn, then paused and looked back to the counter, unfazed.

"Pay attention to me!" you screamed as you brought the pole swinging around.

The resonating shock that flowed through the hollow bar was almost enough to make you drop it. Your face twisted around in awe as you watched the robber fall forward. His forehead smashed into the counter before he fell to the ground at your feet.

With a groan he began to move, trying to place his hand against the ground to push himself up. His free hand reached out and picked up his dropped knife.

Pulling back your leg, you delivered three blows that crushed your toes within the loafers you wore. He began to cough, abandoning the knife to clutch at his chest while slow, wheezing breaths escaped him.

Everyone was looking at you. You were the centre of attention. Standing above the downed criminal with a bent pole in your hand and sweat running down your face. With a few quick steps back you pulled out of their line of sight, and watched as their attention turned to the bandit and their expressions changed from wonder to horror.

"Who did that?" the gunman asked as he walked towards his downed friend. His handgun was held in a firm, two handed grip, but it was pointing down, at the ground. He shifted about, looking at every person in the room in turn save for you. "Who did that?"

I pulled back, receding deeper behind the protective counter to hide myself from the armed bandit. But you just stood there, still holding the now-bent pole as though it weighed far more than a stainless steel tube should.

"I'm going to kill you guys. I'm going to kill all of you!" he screamed while raising his gun. The barrel twitched as it pointed over the counter and towards me.

With a quick dive you charged ahead, stretching out your arm with the pipe at the end of it. "Hey!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, hard and fast enough to make me jump out of my skin.

He spun, eyes widening until they twitched and stared down the length of your arm and to the pipe's tip.

You let go, letting the pipe fall while his eyes traced the slow downwards progression.

Then, with a hesitant swallow, you pulled back your off-hand and swung it towards the bandit, delivering a firm, open-handed slap to the side of his face.

He reeled back, staring at you while a deep growl escaped his throat Looking down, the bandit flicked a little switch off the side of his revolver and then spun around, searching the room. "Who hit me?" he screamed, waving the gun around.

I pulled back even more, my breath returning in quick gasps. Had he not seen you? You were still standing right there, ducking behind him. Your eyes had met. I had seen it.

With a sweeping, if ungainly hook, you cracked your elbow into the back of the robber's neck, sending him tumbling forwards. Then, raising your leg up to his height, you kicked him with your heel, sending him crashing into the ground.

The gun dropped and clattered onto the marble floor before you swiped it away and under a bench with your foot.

You stepped back, and instantly a murmur filled the room. "What happened?"

"Who did that?"

"Are we okay now?"

The customers stood out of their huddled forms like butterflies out of their cocoons. None looked your way. None recognized you or even nodded their thanks.

You shifted your weight to the balls of your feet, then back, sighing as though you had given up.

"Wait, sir," I called out just as you began to move towards the door. You paused.

"Thank you, thank you so much," I said, looking at you right in the eye.

You blinked at me, blushed, and escaped.