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A laconic tale of
our Beautiful USA and The Gun of Freedom and
Justice that holds firmly behind the righteous
and weary calloused hands of proud and stalwart
Americans.
"An American man
armed with a gun enters a store, a sub-compact
9 tucked in the small of his back, no less no
more… 10 in the magazine and 1 in the bore. He
greets the employee behind the register, a
small male white, late 70’s, a scraggly beard
and mustache, thinning bright white hair, and a
presence screaming stern and bold. He is frail
yet tough, weathered skin and old. An old man
that couldn’t make a living for his years left
if he sold. The wind bounces back from the door
he entered with an eager and bitter gust of
cold. The night is dark, marked by soft echoes
of a neglected dog’s lonely bark. The lights in
the store cast a foggy yellow tint of rays. The
American man buys a beer and some cigarettes,
hence he surely has seen better days, and at
the counter’s arrival, he cordially and
patiently pays, throws some change in the tip
jar, and he proceeds amongst his ways.
Two men in ski
masks quickly enter; one casually opens and
drinks a beer, the old man quickly realizes why
the men are standing there, brandishing their
weapons and fanning the flames of fear. He
shuffles to his 38. revolver, that’s sitting
close and near. One stands with a blue steel
semi-auto, the other a shotgun with a sawed off
stock. The American man casually meanders
behind a stand of pastries, as the crooks scan
the area like an Arizona hawk. The American man
remains silent as the crooks make the old man
talk. The American man covertly, gladly pulls
his 9 millimeter Glock. The old man is face
down at gun point, as the crooks rummage
around. Hank Williams twang is singing on the
radio, crackling upon the background. The
American man pulls the trigger, and you can
hear the bleeding sounds, the combustion and
parade of 9 millimeter bullets, ohh of
Winchester rounds. The American man’s face was
like that of sun burn red, and when evil stood
up he threw lots of led, like pounding nails
into an old withered shed. Both crooks stumbled
and tumbled for they were hit in the chest, and
one in the head. The old man rose to his feet
with a white knuckle fist and whispered “this
here business is mine that I protect you see,
time for bed!” a 38. from his waistband, he
finished them off dead.
The cops showed up
on scene, with flashing red and blue, sirens
yelling and screaming, you could hear their big
engines too. All guns blazing, the cops
investigate the crime. They talked to the old
man and American man, one person at a time.
Over the police radio crackles a confident
“Code Four”; the men protected themselves from
the horror, of dying alone on the floor, as
well as the cash and property, present in the
store. A 9 millimeter and a 38. revolver, no
less, no more. As the cops wrapped up the
night, they looked at Heaven to pray, “Thank
you God so much, for these men will see another
day”. The cops then met with the old man and
American man, and shook their hands to say
“Nice guns boys, we could surely hear the
noise” “Say, where the Hell did ya get that
iron, those are some nice toys!” “Pull up some
seats and get yourselves some drinks, we thank
men like you for cleaning the streets.”
The old man was a
retired military veteran, the American man, an
off duty policeman. They had dinner later that
night, lobster and steak, a few beers and threw
some lures in the lake. They fashioned memories
that photos couldn’t take. They spoke of wars
and the everyday fight. They talked so much and
all through the night, that the moon went
asleep and the sun woke up and casted her
light. They talked about our Country, our
beloved red, white and blue, how beautiful it
is and how idiots give us the flu, how today
most things and people, to our flag just aren’t
true. How so many aren’t proud to be, happy,
safe and free, the ignorant mentality today, of
it’s all about me. They hugged each other in
celebration of making it home in one piece; for
they as American strangers came together to
make peace…oh the criminality they terminated,
and subsequently ceased-all while deploying our
2nd Amendment …the heavy metal piece…God Bless
America
About the Author
Detective Patrick Shrum began his law
enforcement career as a police explorer. He
enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. He
became a military police officer and during his
service he provided law enforcement and
security for Marine One under both President
Bush and Obama. After his Marine Corps
service, he became a Federal Police Officers;
and, then a Los Angeles Police Officer; and,
joined another Southern California Police
Department where he has recently been promoted
to Detective. He is a recipient of the
“Presidential Service Certificate Award for
Honorable Service in the White House, and the
highest civilian police award-The Medal of
Valor”
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