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Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #2156114
Story of a son standing up for his mom.
The engine sputtered as I pulled away from the strip mall. The gun was heavy in my pocket. My palms were sweating as I turned down Miami Street towards the car wash. Mac wasn’t going to be impressed with me as I hadn’t been able to dicker the gun shop owner down to $500 like he said I could. $750 was still a good price and we had the money.

I passed a cop on East Avenue and my heart jumped into my throat. I checked my speed a thousand times and the needle was right on the 25 MPH line. I was just nervous, this was my first hit.

I pulled into the abandoned car wash on the outside of town. I saw Mac’s car at the back of the lot and I made my way over. I parked and got into his car.

“Let’s see it” Mac said. I pulled the gun out and handed it to Mac. He looked it over, jerked quickly and pointed it at me. I jumped and my face must have looked horrified because Mac let out a laugh. I nearly shit my pants.

“How much you pay for it?” he asked knowing full well I spent more then he thought it was worth.

“$750” I said sheepishly.

“Jesus, I told you this piece of shit wasn’t worth more that $500.” He looked at me incredulously. I wish I was a stronger person. I would have handled this situation myself, but I’m not. I never would have found the courage to buy a gun, track this guy down, and coordinate a meeting where I could surprise him.

Mac could get any person to meet him at any place for any reason. He was the only person in my life that would qualify as a father figure. When I told him what Jeff was doing to my mom he nearly hit me. He told me I should have confronted Jeff and handled the situation like a man.

“We better get going, Jeff will wonder where we are.” We pulled away from the car wash in Mac’s car. It was a 1985 Cadillac El Dorado. He thought it was a luxury car like they used to be but it was a grandma’s car. And not a well kept one to boot. The headliner was starting to sag and it smelt like Mac’s cigarillos.

We arrived at the abandoned mall on the outside of town. The part of town where a developer thought this town was the next big shopping town. It’s a poor town. The stores he was courting to come here where not the types of stores that we shop at. We are simple blue collar people. Paper mill workers. Jeff was already there sitting on the hood of his car smoking a cigarette. Mac pulled up about fifty feet away. He stepped out of the car and left the lights on.

Mac winked at me and said “keep your whits boy”.

I took the gun out of my pocket and held it behind my back. I stepped out of the car and into the shine of the headlights. Jeff was there with his smug look and devil-may-care attitude. Mac spoke first.

“You know why you’re here?”

“Nope” he said. He damn well knew. Why would Mac and I ask him to meet us here.

“You done crossed this young man” Mac said.

“What I did to his momma is between me and her” even subconsciously he thinks of himself.

“He doesn’t think that’s the case Jeff.”

“He’s a fucking boy, Mac. What the hell does he know” Jeff spit on the ground. My mother raised me herself with no one else. Mac didn’t even help her. She worked two jobs. She stripped for Christ’s sake. She deserved better than to be treated like shit, they way Jeff treated her.

“My mother is not your fucking whore!” I shrieked as I pulled the gun out from behind my back. The look on his face told me that he knew something was going to happen. Perhaps a beating but I don’t think he thought we’d pull a gun on him.

“You’re mother is a dumb, poor piece of shit. She’s barley worth the trouble of whoring out. She’s my fucking nickel whore. The one I give to the druggies and drunks that can’t feel nothing any way” Jeff was getting pissed. I pulled the trigger. Jeff’s face changed from one of pure hate to one of pure shock. He didn’t think I’d actually do it. But I shot, shot, shot, Mac came over and put his hand on my shoulder.

“That’s enough, son” and I stopped shooting and put the gun down. I looked at Mac and tears were streaming down my face. I killed a man.
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