Twenty years ago I saw a man. I was only a boy of eight years old, but I remember it as if it were yesterday.
It was a Saturday.
I had been playing with Eric that whole morning. He always came over to my house. I didn't like going over to his house because his step mother, Linda, made these horrible pickles. I feel like she pickled everything. Zucchini, asparagus, apples, pears, and(of course), cucumbers. I liked pickles.
Just not hers. And not every day.
So, Eric came to my place. We had already watched all the good cartoons and had eaten, at least, three bowls of cereal each. On Saturdays, I got to treat myself to "sweet" cereal like Captain Crunch, Cocoa Puffs, Cookie Crisp. During the week, it was Nutri-Grain or Grape Nuts, (which I actually liked, but only because of the crunch factor). It was like the kid version of what most do as adults. You work for the week so you can party on the weekend. Same mentality.
We told my Mom that we were gonna run down to the store. There was a little shopping center not too far from our house. You had to walk through the old people's home courtyard across the street, then along a little path we created along the brick wall at the drug-dealer's apartment complex(until they built a wall there), then cross the street, walk through the laundromat, and you were there in the middle of the sidewalk. The only thing to the right was a Coronet and a Safeway. There did happen to be a really cool handrail that you could swing under, but that didn't matter because to the left -- was gold.
Thrifty's. And they had ice cream.
Their ice cream was the best. They had incredible mint chip and chocolate chip because the chips were almost like flakes stuck together. The Rocky Road was good and that's what Mom always got. But for me? For me there was only one choice. Chocolate Malted Crunch. It was a no-brainer.
Eric and I grabbed two scoops each. Eric with his regular cone, I with my sugar cone. They also had those weird cylindrical scoops which I think were designed like that so they would be easier to lick the edges. So, we dropped our cash, 25 cents a scoop, and took our cones outside. We sat on the edge of some planters and enjoyed our weekend treats. It wasn't even noon yet and we were already having our dessert.
Then we saw the man.
The first thing that I noticed was his glasses. They were thick. Black. Straight. His hair was cropped really close. Like he was in the Military. In fact, everything looked like that. His plaid shirt was tucked into his new blue jeans. He had a familiar belt on, one like the ones I always saw at Beno's and chose not to get because I hated the stitching. He had a briefcase in his hands. It was black leather. It shined in the sun. Kinda matched his shoes. Black, plain. Boring. He walked right past us, looked down at us and noticed our ice creams.
"Looks good." He smiled and kept going.
Eric and I nodded our heads. I looked at Eric. He had dried ice cream all over his face. He grinned a fake toothy smile at me, then went back to his ice cream. I licked my ice cream and then turned my attention back to that man. He was walking past Thrifty's, past the William's Bros grocery. Looked like he was headed to the Mid-State Bank. He was fascinated by this guy. He stopped right out in front of the Bank and put his briefcase down. Knelt down and untied both of his shoes. Then he cinched them back up again. Grabbed the briefcase and went through the double doors.
The day was hot. We were close to summertime so the sun was really giving us a run for our money. At least 102 that day. It was beating down on our ice creams and the second that we would take a bite you would also feel a drip on your hand. Was impossible to keep up with the melting goodness but we tried. Eric seemed to be better than me. Though he was the smallest kid in school, he was the fastest. At everything. Melting Ice cream licking was no exception.
I remember how much I jumped when I heard the bursting doors. I spun around and the man we had been watching was running out of the bank. He looked different. Disheveled. Shirt had become untucked and his hair was more messy than it had been. Even his glasses looked crooked. His briefcase was weaving back and forth as he ran. He didn't get far before we heard screaming. From inside the bank.
"Stop!! Freeze!!"
He kept running.
Then a gunshot. From inside the bank.
Eric and I looked at each other. It was like Dukes of Hazzard! Live!
There was an old Toyota Celica that a woman had stopped due to the commotion. The man ran up to her car and grabbed the door handle.
"Get out of the fucking car!!" He sounded flustered. His sounded like his clothes looked.
She jumped out, and he pushed her aside to get in. She fell to the ground. Screamed.
Another gunshot. The side window blasted out of the passenger side. The man slammed on the gas and the car screamed forward. He fishtailed in the parking lot and headed towards us.
Another gunshot. It happened so fast but I remember the rear window blasting out, and the man's brains being scattered all over the windshield. His body careened forward onto the steering wheel and the last thing I remember was the grille of the car.
Blackness.
Blackness.
They didn't know how I survived. They said my body had been crushed. My "spine looked like an accordion", one doctor told my Mother. I spent almost a year in the hospital. Mom created a wonderful little home there for me. And she slept next to me on the bed most of the nights. Some nights I would have really bad cramping and she would massage my muscles until they stopped.
When they wheeled me out of the doors of the hospital for the first time, my eyes were almost burned because it was so bright. It was hot. Really hot. At least 102 that day. Mom loaded me up in the car and I waved goodbye. Mom flipped off the hospital as we left. I laughed really hard. Mom looked at me and smiled.
When we were almost home Mom asked me if I wanted anything from the store. "Or Thrifty's?" I opted for a box of Cookie Crisp. She parked the car and I waited inside for her. I could see the bank. I could see the repaired planter. Thrifty's. I zoned out for a second. Almost seeing the entire thing happen in my mind again, but from a different perspective.
Mom hopped in the car. She had two bags of groceries. Two bags filled completely with different kinds of cereal.
"It's all your, Toad." She liked to call me Toad. "You should be good for the rest of the day, at the very least." She smiled. My smile was a little more half-hearted. Mom saw.
"What is it? Do you want something else?"
I looked down at the grocery bags on the floor. All the cereal boxes. The characters. Tony the Tiger. Captain Crunch. Toucan Sam. Diggam the Frog. I looked at my legs. My atrophied legs that would never walk again. That would never run. Never hop a fence. Kick a ball. Dangle in water. I looked at my Mom.
"I miss Eric."
Mom hugged me.
