NICKLE AND DIME JOINT
Two burly guerrillas stepped out of a sedan. The auto took a deep breath, its springs expanded like a pair of lungs. Frank knew he was going to be busy with these two.”How much for these?” the small, thick bodied man asked, yanking off a bag of chips in a air of certainty. Frank figured he’d call him, Fire Plug. These two must be flush. He glanced out to the pump and saw the “Reed” a name he had given the man . Now, he was walking towards the office.
Frank slid backwards braced his hands against the counter. He ran his fingers over the cold, thinly oiled gun. Back when old lady Valdez was alive she wanted Mr, Valdez, to have it. There had been stickups along 66 and Mrs. Valdez if he were. her husband to feel safe.
“What’s it like to run this nickel and dime joint ?”
“It’s a job for right now,” Frank said between clenched teeth
“Get it Marvin! It’s a job” the fire plug laughed. The Reed had tears in his eyes. “After this you graduate to Bob’s Beer Barn on your knees cleaning up stale beer and bar slop.”
“Sure, you got it,” Frank said eyes locked on the Pig’s.
“After you graduate there you get a “Pump Room Diploma.” written on a red barroom rag.”
The strong praying on the weak. Saw it his entire life, and he had enough of it to fill a flaming, rusty bucket rolling down the highway. The next few seconds Frank didn’t know what had gone on. He did hear a round go off a red flame almost knocking Frank down. He spun around taking the Pig out with a pop. smoke floated over the two dead men. Piggy and The Reed had gone to find The Holly father.
Two men go out of a black Caddy and started to walk to filling station office. The guy on the right buttoned his coat in the blowing sand. Frank stood back and smiled.