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Larry (standard:other, 1733 words) | |||
Author: Pitter Pat | Added: Jun 26 2003 | Views/Reads: 3651/2275 | Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes) |
An edit - The story of a young man who tries to do right, but doesn't go about it in a socially acceptable way. Comments and edits are welcome | |||
Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story water fountain, sticking it into his jacket pocket as he leaned out of sight of the surveillance mirror. Wiping his mouth he slowly walked to the boxed food section. He had noticed a sign in the store window saying today's special is macaroni and cheese twenty-five cents a box. He took two boxes off the shelf and walked over to the Community Bulletin Board pretending to read the ads as he stuck the boxes into his other jacket pocket. He saw Mr. Walker coming down the aisle toward him and feared he had been caught taking the food, but Mr. Walker smiled and went on by. Larry quickly exited through the back room's delivery door. The cold breeze again briskly blew through his thin jacket. Larry quickly walked across the street, crossed the town square, and walked down Locust Street toward home. Home, a word that no longer meant the smell of his mother's delicious meals waiting for him. Never again would he see his dad's worn steel-toed boots sitting on the porch where he had taken them off after a hard day's work at the factory. He missed seeing Johnny's motorcycle in the driveway. Johnny wasn't a bad brother; he had gotten mixed up with the wrong crowd and turned to drugs and alcohol. Who could blame him? He was so angry to have his dreams erased when his parents died. Larry walked into the kitchen and frowned as he picked up a stale loaf of bread he had found yesterday in the dumpster behind the bakery. Maybe Mr. Walker was right, he should leave town and never come back. There had to be something better than lunchmeat sandwiches made with stale bread and macaroni and cheese. As the stale sandwiches filled his hollow stomach, hope was once again restored. ‘The factory down the road is laying off people, but Mr. Fellows said there is a chance they would get a new work order soon. If that happens, he has promised to hire me,' thought Larry. ‘Winter is quickly approaching, I'm not sure if I can survive in this house with no heat...' Leaving the house, Larry walked to back to the business district. He stopped at Huston's Hardware, Lindner's Gas, and Mac's Farm & Home Store asking for a job, but all quickly replied they had no job openings. He went into Mrs. Callie's Diner hoping she would offer him a cup of coffee, but she didn't. Across the street from Callie's Diner was Samson's Clothiers. In the window was a sign, NEW STYLES OF WINTER COATS JUST IN. FROM WORK COATS TO FORMAL COATS, WE CAN FILL ALL OF YOUR WINTER NEEDS. Larry slowly walked into the store and went to the coat rack marked WORK COATS. Looking through the coats, he found the cheapest work coat in his size cost thirty-five dollars. Larry's mind began to buzz. ‘What can I do for Mr. Samson that is worth thirty-five dollars? He will never let me work for him, but he doesn't need to know.' Larry slowly walked home, deep in thought. There had to be something he could do to earn the coat. While cooking the macaroni and cheese an idea came to him. He remembered overhearing Mr. Samson's comment of needing someone to clear the dead branches from his backfield. He had said it would be an all day job to cut the branches and burn them, surely that would be worth thirty-five dollars. Larry finished eating and went to bed early so he could get up at dawn and earn a coat. At six a.m. Larry fixed himself two sandwiches, eating one for breakfast and putting the other into his jacket pocket for lunch. It was about a mile to Mr. Samson's backfield. The frosty morning sent shivers through Larry, but anticipating the warmth of a new coat lead him down the blacktop road. He worked hard for eight hours, only stopping once to eat the stale sandwich he had stored in his jacket pocket. When the job was completed, Larry hurried to Samson's Clothiers. Mr. Samson would never know, but he had earned the precious coat he was about to take. Mr. Samson's store was much like Mr. Walker's store. There were security rails by the front door to prevent shoplifters, but the stockroom door was unguarded. He would take the coat to the back mirror, try it on, and then slip out the back door. No one would ever know. As he entered the store, Larry saw Mr. Ellis talking to a clerk about a four hundred dollar leather coat. Larry went to the rack of work coats and quickly took the brown coat he had chosen yesterday from the rack. He laid it over his arm and casually walked to the back mirror to try it on. Keeping his eye on the clerk, Larry didn't notice Officer Miller had walked into the store. Officer Miller was watching his every move. When Larry saw the clerk was paying no attention to him and silently slipped out the back door. Officer Miller quickly ran out the front door. Larry walked down the alley running his fingers over the deep brown threads that highlighted the coat. A flash caught Larry's eyes and he looked up and saw Officer Miller standing at the end of the alley with his gun pointed at Larry. Knowing he was caught, Larry shifted the coat to hand it to Officer Miller. A shiny new button caught a glimmer of the late afternoon sunshine and Officer Miller quickly fired his gun. Larry dropped to the ground, killed instantly. His new coat slowly drifted in the breeze landing across his cold bloody chest. Inside the store, Mr. Ellis handed the clerk the free coat voucher he had gotten from the Church of Christ and slid his arms into his new four hundred dollar leather coat. He smiled, “It sounds like Officer Miller has taken out the rest of the Logan trash.” Tweet
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