Iced Coffee

Of course it’s not like I wanted anyone to get hurt. I just, you know, wanted to help someone in trouble. That’s the whole reason I carry. I mostly always carry, mostly everywhere, ‘cause, you know, I always figure the one time I don’t, well, that’ll be the time that the shit hits the fan and I’ll need it. Sorry about the language.

And yeah, I know a lot of people think it’s crazy that I’m always armed, think I’m some kind of nut wanting to shoot people just for fun, but it’s not like that. I just never wanted to be defenseless again, you know? Especially if innocent people needed help. After what happened when I was a kid, I never wanted to be in that position again. There’s nothing worse than sitting by, totally helpless, while people get hurt or killed.

But anyway, you wanna know about that day.

It’s Friday afternoon. I’m sitting in the sun at a table on the patio outside Murphy’s, drinking a beer, waiting for Tom to show up. He’s late, like always, but it’s cool. I’ve got a beer, it’s sunny out, the first really warm day of spring, so I’m not in any kind of hurry. Just sipping a cold beer and feeling the warmth on my face, looking around at all the people enjoying the sun. There’s a group of high-school kids standing around the pond in the courtyard shoving each other and laughing, a smiling couple pushing a stroller, an older guy walking past with a huge gray dog that looks like he’s part wolf.

And there’s a Starbucks across the street. I’m checking out this girl who’s sitting there drinking coffee and typing on a laptop. She’s cute, with long curly dark hair and a little upturned nose, and I'm kinda thinking it would be cool to go talk to her, but you know, I’ve got my beer and Tom’s gonna be here soon, so I just sit and watch her. I don’t even know what I’d say to her anyway. Never been all that good at starting conversations with cute girls, and she looks busy, so she probably doesn’t want anyone bugging her. I decide to just sip my beer and enjoy the view.

Then out of nowhere, a dark blue van pulls up in front of the Starbucks and slams on its brakes, all loud like it’s trying to draw attention. These three guys, dressed mostly in black, one wearing a - like - ski mask, the others with scarves or bandanas covering the lower half of their faces, jump out. I’m thinking, what the hell is going on? I look around at the other people on the patio, and they’re all watching too. People inside the Starbucks turn and look. Everyone on the Starbucks patio is staring, but no one’s reacting yet. The girl looks up from her laptop, her eyes wide. They come toward her and she stands up, looking at the people around her, who all kind of sit there looking like they don’t know what to do. She closes her laptop, and starts to pick it up like she’s going to leave.

The guys in black spread out and surround her. They’re yelling, but I can’t tell what they’re saying, and one of them grabs her, and another one knocks her coffee on the ground - it seems like that’s on purpose. She’s screaming, but I can’t really tell what she’s saying, ‘cause they’re yelling, and people who came out of the coffee shop are yelling, and I see one guy put his hands out like he’s warning people to back off, so I go running over there to help, right? She looks terrified, and every part of me wants nothing more than to protect her, to make her stop being so scared, let her know that everything’s going to be fine. By now everyone’s coming out of the coffee shop, but no one seems to know what to do. They’re shouting at the guys, and someone’s yelling to call 911. But none of them approach.

The guy with the ski mask on pulls her so hard she falls over, and she cries out, so I draw my weapon and point it at him. I yell at him to get the hell away from her, and he yells something I can’t hear, ‘cause it’s muffled by his mask, and he reaches down to his side. That’s when I realize he’s armed and he’s about to draw on me, so I shout at him like I was taught - ‘Don’t reach! Don’t reach! Don’t reach!’ They tell you to yell three times to make sure they hear you. He doesn’t stop, so I do the only thing I can do. I pull the trigger before he gets a chance to draw on me. I aim at the center of his body, like I learned, and he goes down.

But of course his buddies are armed, too. And before I can even turn toward any of the others, I’m on the ground. In so much pain. Like nothing I ever felt before. Nothing I ever imagined. I can’t even tell where the pain is coming from, there’s so much of it. I try to lift my gun again, but by now I don’t even know where it is. Am I still holding it? I can’t tell. I hear a ringing sound, and screams, but I can’t make out any words. I look around for the girl, to see if she’s OK, but then I see a boot coming at my face, and that’s the last thing I remember.

Until I wake up here in the hospital. Cuffed to my bed. Not knowing what the hell’s going on.

And now they tell me I’ll probably never walk again, among other things. They say I’m pretty lucky to be alive. I guess. But maybe it doesn't even matter, since I’ll probably spend the rest of my life in prison for killing an ICE agent. I swear, I didn’t know. I just wanted to save the girl. I still don’t even know what happened to her. Is she OK?