Sonny Ray heard the metallic click of the large and ominous firearm. Everyone had expected a loud explosion, and flames to protrude from the end of the long barrel of death.
Instead, a small pop was distinctly heard as a small white flag extended slowly from the end of the barrel. The word ‘bang’ was printed on both sides of the flag; along with large exclamation points. Everyone who witnessed it was momentarily stunned. Especially Bob. He stood there, with the pistol still extended out away from his body.
Slowly he lowered the weapon.
Sonny Ray boyishly began to smile. Dwayne approached Sonny Ray, smiling, but with a melange of anxiety, and relief on his face.
They had pulled it off.
It was over.
The media, having been left high and dry by the mayor of Antelope Springs, ended up being at the right place at the right time. The flash of many cameras continued, blinding Bob momentarily.
All the major networks had filmed the entire incident. This would indeed hit the Internet, and would go viral worldwide overnight.
The native rookie policeman had holstered his service weapon, and approached Bob. He was in a drunken haze, and offered little resistance as the rookie cop removed the fraudulent .357 handgun from Bob’s grasp. Bob continued to stare at Sonny Ray. Bob though was not quite ready to quit. Bob, in a McGiver like moment, slipped a coin from his pocket, and threw it down in the general direction of Dwayne and his three friends. It began to roll, and arrested the attention of everyone. Bob bent down slightly pulling his pant leg up over his right cowboy boot. His small hand found the .38 caliber pistol. After shoving the rookie cop, Bob stood erect with renewed vigor. He charged the indigenous foursome hell bent on killing them all. He lurched forward pulling the trigger. The sounds of a cap gun could be heard. Bob continued to pull the trigger. Six times he pulled the trigger.
Sonny Ray and his friends had instinctively crouched, and then scattered when they saw the second pistol. The commotion was unsettling.
Bob stood in shocked silence. “How, did, you, you,” was all the former cop could manage.
Greg, Nadia’s cousin had crossed paths with Bob a few days earlier. Bob, with the assistance of several police officer friends, had slipped into the service elevator in order to go undetected. He arrived quickly to the lower levels, and obtained access to police files as well as to all closed cases. Greg, had received a call thirty minutes prior, and was instructed by the desk Sargeant that he was going to have a visitor to the records department. He was instructed to fully cooperate, and keep quiet about said visitor.
Greg figured he was there to remove incriminating evidence. Greg insisted though; that before he would allow Bob to look at any files he would first have to check his .38 pistol at the door. Bob thought nothing of it as he wanted to get what he wanted, and get the hell out of there. While Bob had hurriedly looked for files, Greg had taken the pistol to his desk. After sitting down he continued to watch Bob as he quietly unloaded the hollow point rounds of the .38 police revolver. He replaced them with blanks. He then put in on top of his desk, and waited. After ten minutes or so Bob walked the narrow hall where Greg sat waiting. Bob had a few files in hand. “I’ll need you to sign for those,” Greg stated, ignoring his standing orders. Without a word Bob approached Greg. He reached for his pistol. After opening the cylinder Bob glanced at it to ensure all six rounds were there. He closed the cylinder. He pointed the pistol at Greg. Greg didn’t move an inch as Bob had placed the barrel of the gun against his forehead. “Where did you want me to sign you filthy native scum?” Greg said nothing as Bob lowered his pistol. After putting it back in the holster he adjusted his pant leg. He glared murderously at Greg before turning to leave.
Greg now stood next to his cousin Nadia. Dwayne looked at Nadia. “How did you know about the .38 in his boot?” Dwayne asked Nadia. “My cousin Greg, he had heard through the thin blue line grapevine that Bob was going to try and hijack his employment files, and several files of those he had assaulted over the past several years,” Nadia exclaimed.
“Everyone in the Antelope Springs police department knew Bob carried an unregistered pistol, including me,” Greg said with a smile.
Bob stood a short distance away. with his head lowered at half staff. He looked like he just lost his mma championship belt. The native rookie policeman, not accustomed to the Jack Ruby like performance, regained his composure placing Bob under arrest. The media continued to encircle Bob, microphones jutting at his face like phallic symbols. Bob was guaranteed atleast a half hour of short lived fame, opposed to the standard fifteen minutes. He had earned it with that performance. As the native cops escorted him to the cruiser, an informal gauntlet of his indigenous neighbors stood looking curiously at him. Sonny Ray and Dwayne stood across from eachother as the cops escorted Bob down the middle of the small crowd. Both men slowly reached out and touched the shoulders of Bob, counting an intertribal coup upon their enemy. Bob naturally flinched, thinking them to do him harm. All the people from various nations followed suit. He was not harmed because he was not worthy of such a memorable ending.
Bob was no warrior.
He was a coward who hid behind a badge. Without the badge, he was nothing; just a sad human being who lived in a diminutive world of his own making. Bob sat in the back seat of the cruiser, his forehead against the window; staring out into the mostly indigenous crowd. He was confused, stunned. Bob had expected to be possibly killed, and at the very least beaten badly for his attempts to murder four people. They had every right to get after him, but they didn’t. Bob for the life of him, could not understand why.
His humiliation was complete.
As Bob continued to stare, the lights of the cruiser, and siren were turned on, as he began the short journey to jail. After an hour and a half of being interviewed the foursome, along with Greg, and some other friends, caravanned to Dwayne’s house to celebrate.
Tomorrow Sonny Ray would hit the road, bound for Las Vegas.
The following morning Sonny Ray, and Dwayne shared a cup of coffee.
After gathering his two bags the two men headed downstairs. Sonny Ray closed the trunk of the rental.
“Here you go,” Dwayne said handing his friend a brown paper bag. “What’s this?” “My grandmother made you some lunch, you know for the road,” Dwayne said, feeling slightly sad.
“Thanks cuz,” Sonny Ray replied. The two men shook hands, leaning in patting eachother on the shoulder.
“Call me when you get to Vegas. Nadia made me promise her that. We all want to know you got home safe,” Dwayne said, tapping the top of the car. “I will.” Sonny Ray began to slowly roll away. “Hey Sonny Ray, ” Dwayne called out. Sonny Ray braked, and looked back at Dwayne. “You better hurry.” Sonny Ray nodded in the form of a question.
“Your friend there might arrive before you do,” Dwayne said pointing into the westerly skies.
Sonny Ray laughed. “It more than likely will,” Sonny Ray said. “You think so?” Dwayne asked “Hey man, he has no stop signs, and no cops,” Sonny Ray said.
“I’ll be seeing you Sonny Ray.”
Sonny Ray waved, and slowly drove away. Dwayne watched his friend until he made his turn to get on interstate ten. He glanced upward.
The black eagle dream pressed on.
Cyrus would have been proud of his son.