Tommy's Walk

Tommy’s Walk
By James Ryan

Tommy Watkins strutted down the street with his brand new Captain Neutron Raybeam Blaster strapped to his hip, his hand rested lightly on the shiny red grip.

He started every morning that summer with two and sometimes three bowls of Tastee Flakes in an attempt to collect the twenty-five box tops required for his prize. When he reached the magical number his mother packaged and sent them out. After four weeks the postman finally dropped it off today, bringing the most happiness he could recall in his nine and a half years.

As he walked, Tommy thought about who needed to see his Raybeam Blaster first. Albert was his best friend, but Jimmy really wanted a Blaster himself. Tommy was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the beat up gray pickup truck pull alongside him.

“Get in,” a voice commanded him.

Tommy looked up with a start. He didn't recognize the driver but his mother would have called him an “elderly gentleman”. He didn’t look very much like a gentleman though. His hair was wild and bushy and one grimy hand was scratching his dirty coveralls in a rude place.

Tommy thought for a moment. “I don’t know you,” he replied and began to walk again. The truck slowly rolled along with him.
“That don’t matter. I wasn’t askin’ you nothin’. I told you get in.”

The hair on Tommy’s neck stood as he realized that this could be very bad. He started walking faster and his voice shook a little when he said, “Don’t take rides from strangers.”

He cringed as the truck slammed on it's breaks. The driver jumped over the passenger seat and grabbed for Tommy’s arm.
Tommy jerked back about a foot. With no hesitation he drew his Raybeam blaster, took aim and pulled the trigger. A perfectly round dime sized hole was opened on the old man's forehead. He stared at Tommy with the whites of his eyes before slumping against the car door.

Tommy examined the small red pistol in the palm of his hand. There was no kickback and it didn’t make the shrill siren sound that Captain Neutron’s Blaster did on his radio show. Oh well, what can you really expect for cereal box tops?
He strapped the Blaster back on his hip. “I’ll show Albert first, then Jimmy,” he thought to himself as he turned and continued walking down the street.