Ten Minutes

“Just so you know… we’re closing in ten minutes.”

The bell to the little boutique shop gave a friendly ding, and the store clerk looked up from his crossword with a smile as he gave her this news. Tina scraped the snow off her shoes and rubbed her hands together. She’d seen this shop in passing, but had never stopped in. Now seemed as good a time as any. She had a general idea of what she needed, but was open to suggestions if the proprietor proved to be knowledgeable. Sometimes these folks could be quite useful - you never know. But as usual, Tina did find herself in a bit of a rush. She was eager to get this job over and done with. Netflix and red wine awaited.

“Welcome to Johnny’s Shop for Murderers - serving the Springfield community since 1987! - proclaimed Johnny, presumably the owner. The man was white-haired and rosy-cheeked, short and thin, grinning ear to ear at her presence. Tina wondered if she was the first customer he’d had all day. Maybe all week. Johnny was a little too excited by her business. She really hoped he wasn’t a talker.

“What can I help you with today?”

“Just browsing really.”

“Well, let me know. We have quite the fine offering of products, I’m proud to say. Do you need a knife perhaps? Sourced directly from a samurai in Japan, an old colleague of mine. I met him in ‘96 on a business trip. Yoshi-san. Good man. Even better craftsman.”

“No… I don’t think I need a knife. Too messy for me, quite honestly.”

Okay, she’d changed her mind. She wasn’t in the mood to be helped by this guy. She just wanted to find something clean and efficient and be on her way.

“Ahh, I bet you’re an explosives girl, huh? Maybe a good old fashioned car bomb? Or perhaps a pipe bomb? Our countdown timers are Made in America. Down in Tennessee. See the sticker?”

“No. No bombs. Sorry.”

“Well, I’d sell you a gun - we offer dozens of varieties, big and small, with silencers, automatics - but there’s a waiting period. Rules are rules after all.”

“I have plenty of guns already.”

She did. It truly had become a problem. Her last therapist - before she’d killed him - had used the word “hoarder”. She didn’t like that.

Johnny stood up from the desk and walked over to her, offering his hand.

“I don’t believe I’ve seen you in here before. I’m Johnny… as you may have guessed! Like I said, I’ve owned this little shop since 1987. It used to be me and Marge - that was my wife, god rest her soul. I got a starter loan from my father-in-law. Old Bob wanted me to start an auto shop, can you believe it? Me? Sure, sometimes I wonder what my life would’ve been like if I’d been a mechanic. But no regrets, right?”

He didn’t wait for an answer. She didn’t have one anyway. She just wanted to shop in peace.

“It’s wonderful to think about all the people in the community I’ve helped over the years! We’ve had so many repeat customers, too. I shoulda done a punch card like Marge suggested. Ha!”

“That’s great, really. But I think I’m good…”

“One favorite customer of mine… there was this woman named Amy. This was, what, maybe the mid 2000’s? She had a loser, drunk, abusive husband. A couple little ones too. I was able to help her solve her problem. Poison, if I recall correctly. Very effective. The husband, not the kids.”

Tina started browsing through a point-of-purchase display with axes of various sizes and colors. She picked one up, weighing it in her hands, taking a subtle practice swing. Yeah, that would work.

“Mitch was quite the character. He was one of my first customers, in the late 80’s. Wall street bro, you know the type. He had a joint venture with a cousin, doing pretty well for themselves, but the cousin was getting greedy. So Mitch came to me and you know what I said? ‘I’ve got you covered! This is what we do!’ So anyway, Mitch’s cousin later had ‘some issues’ with his speedboat that summer. They never did find the body from what I heard.”

Tina put down the axe and started weaving through the aisles. Johnny followed her closely, like a lost little puppy.

“Oh, and how could I forget about Derek! This was just a year or two back. Poor Derek had just had it up to here with his HOA. Those nazi’s had restricted his hanging baskets too many times. Now Derek, he was a really creative guy - and sentimental too. Really thoughtful. He felt that each of the three HOA board members deserved their own method of removal. So you guessed it, he bought three weapons from me! That was a good day for all of us.”

Tina rolled her eyes and started digging through the discount bins of ropes and cords.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking. And do not worry. Discretion is of the utmost importance here at Johnny’s. I never share your info with anyone, neither third parties nor the authorities. Nothing can be traced back to you - I guarantee it!”

Johnny pointed towards a sign above the register that said exactly that.

Tina looked at her watch. Just minutes till close. She was ready to buy something and end this.

“Ahh, I see you’re looking at our fine selection of torture kits. These are some of my favorite products. Now, that one in particular is more of a starter package. Can I ask, would this be your first time? Pardon my directness, but you seem the type to have done it before, am I right?”

“I have. I enjoy it, quite honestly. But that’s not what I need today.”

Tina returned to the axes. She palmed a medium-sized axe, colored bright Barbie pink. This would get the job done, and she was running out of time to decide. Maybe messy, but she’d deal.

“Ahh, the axes! Good and reliable. Now, we have a BOGO sale going on right now. Buy one axe, and get an axe of equal or smaller size for free. Really, you can’t beat it!”

“No… I just need this one.”

Determined to wrap this up, Tina walked over to the register and placed the axe on the counter. She pulled out a stack of bills and eagerly prepared to finalize the transaction.

Johnny returned to his perch behind the counter. He picked up the axe, scanned the barcode, and then set it back down. He eyed his customer.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“Have you ever thought about getting into this business? You know, selling murder supplies to your local community and loyal customers? It’s really doing a public service, at least in my opinion. People need these items. They can’t live without them.”

He considered his last sentence, and gave a small chuckle.

Tina pushed the cash towards him, ready to finally pay.

“Ever since Marge passed… and I’m not getting any younger… I’ve been thinking about hanging it up. Retiring, and going someplace warm. South America, or the Caribbean. Just need someone to sell the shop to. Someone who’ll put their heart into it, who will keep the shop a pillar of the community. Someone with a passion for the art of murder. Is this something you’d be interested in?”

The speech seemed a little too rehearsed. Tina got the impression Johnny had asked the same question to more than a few other customers lately. And each time with no luck.

Her answer was no. Just the axe, please.

“Okay, okay, if you say so. Well, let me check you out then… Say, did I tell you about our return policy?”

Please god, let this end, thought Tina.

“Anything new or lightly used - no blood, please - can be returned within 30 days. No questions asked. Just present your receipt of course. Now, we’re cash only, so we cannot refund any credit cards. But I’m happy to give store credit towards your next purchase… This keeps people coming back, you know!”

He gave her a little wink, clearly pleased by his business acumen.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, sir. Just the axe please. Here’s the cash.”

As Johnny reached for the money, a steady beep emitted from his wristwatch. He eyed his wrist and frowned.

“Well, it’s 6:00 on the dot. Closing time. Sorry, you’ll have to come back tomorrow.”

Tina was dumbfounded. The transaction was seconds away from being completed. Was he really going to turn away her business? She asked.

“Rules are rules, I’m afraid. I don’t do business after six. Dinner time. I set these ground rules back when I opened in ‘87. It’s so important to keep a work/life balance, don’t you think? But yes, Johnny’s Shop for Murderers opens again tomorrow at 9 AM. Looking forward to seeing you then. Have a pleasant evening!”

Tina set the axe back down on the counter, and turned to leave the shop. What luck. What terrible, dumb luck.

This guy was unbelievable.

As she walked out the door, she turned and looked back at Johnny. He’d placed the axe back neatly in the display, and was putting on his coat. He gave her a small smile and a wave.

Her victim would just have to wait a day. Tomorrow. What’s one more day, right? Just a single day. Her ex-therapist did preach patience after all.

One day from tomorrow, Tina would murder Johnny… once she was able to purchase that little pink axe.