Tales of the Bearded Toad

Short stories and the occasional true tidbit devised in the life and times of the Bearded Toad

Thursday, August 03, 2006

The Security Guard (A Journey into the Halls Part II)

“I don’t really see why they won’t give us guns. I mean, what if what happened at one of those high schools happens here, and some kid comes in trying to shoot as many people as possible before he takes himself out? My friend Dave at the Sheriff’s department says it could happen anytime.”

“Marvin, don’t you think that if a kid was going to do that, he would plan on how to kill us first? He’d have to get by us anyway!”

“Yeah, but if I had a gun, I could shoot him before he shoots me. I’ve been practicing my draw with my tazer. Watch.” He squared his feet and whipped the electric stun gun from his hip slightly awkwardly but with surprising quickness.

“Put it away, you lunatic. Here comes a visitor.” Marvin swiveled the tazer and tucked it away in its holster. He crossed his arms to look as hard and diligent as possible for the first person of the day to visit the building. He thought it was important to look as though he was on the verge of arresting everyone.

“Good morning, sir.” Marvin was quiet as the other security guard greeted the patron, who looked a little funny pulling on his belt loops to keep his pants up. Marvin thought that it wasn’t usually the saggy pants guys that came to visit the state house, but mainly he just thought the pictures of fish on his boxers were ridiculous. He could see the design as he walked straight through the metal detector without taking anything out of his pockets. The contraption didn’t beep, so he let the man keep walking.

He waited until the guy was out of earshot, and then said to his partner, “I bet that guy’s mom buys all his clothes.”

“Why do you say that? He didn’t look bundled up and clean like he lives with his parents.”

“You didn’t see his kiddy boxers with his pants all sagging like that? Grown men don’t buy themselves underwear with cute little cartoon fishies on them, but moms do though.”

His partner shook his head. “You think you’re being smart, analyzing the minds and lives of all the people that come through here, but I’d bet that none of your assumptions are right. I bet that guy is just cheap, and he bought his boxers on sale at K-Mart, blue light special all the way. He won’t even spring for a belt for crying out loud.”

“Well, maybe, but I don’t think so. Here, hand me that catalog. I’m going to the can.”

“Every morning, just like clock work. Just wait till you’re my age and you have to drink a glass of dirty-looking gritty water your wife gives you every morning just so you’ll go at all that day.”

Marvin walked down the hall and around the corner, then left, then right into the men’s room. It was always a little bit cold in there, but he didn’t mind once he got that first shiver out of his system. It crept up his spine just as his skin touched down on the white porcelain horseshoe. He opened the catalog and stopped at the flashlights. He always wanted the big one, the one that took four D-size batteries. His friend who worked for the Sheriff’s department, Dave, told him that it was a great way to subdue a perp’ at night. “All the extra weight gives it more momentum when you swing it,” he’d said. He idolized Dave, and wished that he could only pass the tests to join the department too. Marvin knew Dave thought he was better than him, that his job was more important.

He leafed through the catalog for a few more minutes and absent mindedly played with the strap on his tazer holster before finishing up. He flushed and walked over to the sink, watching himself in the mirror the whole way, straightening up and pushing out his chest. Washing his hands, he never even looked at them; he kept making different faces at himself trying to figure out which one made him seem most stern. He started to dry his hands under the blower, but he didn’t have enough patience for the thing. He wiped his hands on his pants and headed out the door.

As the heavy door swung open on its hinges, he saw the visitor slide around the corner with his pants nearly at his knees. He jerked them up and kept running. Marvin’s eyes grew wide, and he shuffled his feet into his quick draw stance. The strap on his holster was already undone from playing with it on the toilet. The tazer slid out without a hitch, and as the guy flew past Marvin nailed him right in his back. His pants slid back down as he fell face first onto the floor, skidding to a halt.

Marvin’s stomach dropped when he thought about what had just happened. He didn’t even know why the guy was running. “Why would he be running? What if he hadn’t done anything wrong? Now I’ll never get into to the department?” His mind was racing. He called his partner on the radio and told him he’d better come and help.

He looked up and saw a dark suit come around the corner hunched over in pain. Marvin’s fear evaporated in an instant. It was replaced by the fullness of pride. What would Dave think now?

2 Comments:

Blogger Suzan Abrams, email: suzanabrams@live.co.uk said...

What a thoughtful, well-detailed story, Brandon. I'm saying hello over from Lehane's blog.
By the way, I could have gladly helped you with those HTML links.
Happy Writing!

12:12 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Great story and very strong characterisation!

3:29 PM  

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