The Corner Store Watch

This is for an assignment; a creative response to a course text. I’m sure many of you will be able to guess what the text is.

Before I get into the lopts, I should give you a run-down of the clingat. It’s a beautiful clingat, but one which has seen quite a heap of build-up. For the longest time it was occupied by people who are red, white, yella and black all over. They lived off the clingat and treated her like their ma – ‘cause indeed she was. Eventually though, farmers from way away came and chased ‘em all off. They wrapped great big chains around trees and cleared themselves many lots to farm on. Despite this, the clingat was still beautiful, with the ocean runnin’ along side, lappin’ its broad, yella belly. And so many more people came so they could enjoy such beautiful nature – the very same nature that the ticky-tacky they occupied and paid for was layin’ to waste. Not long after that, more people came. They were much like the others but had flasher and fuller pockets. Indeed they were the worst of the lot. They built more ticky-tacky and they replaced the many different and homely family lats with ones of their own. Ones that were sterile and borin’. These lats were bloody branches on bloody trees, grown from bloody roots and bloody seeds, planted by man on bloody knees – and they were fed blood since day one. All the fruit they bore were bloody too, and covered in thorns. The people cut their tongues as they ate ‘em, but they had nothing else. Slowly the place bled nearly half to death and became somewhat of a deadzone. Along a stretch in that deadzone was a line of lats. Right on the end of that line of lats is the very last of those homely family lats around, and the bravest too. It was all lit-up, 24-hours – the most convenient of lats. Security screen lined the windows, some of which were half broke. Inside was the most honest, hard-working man. Like many storeowners, he was facing daggers now more than ever, and bein’ an Other he had it even harder. All that and more is what made that lats what it was, and that is a damn good lats. One worth takin’ care of. Realising this, that’s what we did. In exchange for its convenience – both due to location and its being 24-hour – we offered it protection. We sat ‘round its corner every night, against its wall, talking and listening while drinking piss and breathing fire; usually bought from the lats – or stolen from somewhere that deserved it. Our bikes lay out in front of us. This particular starry night it was me – Arbie, as in R.B, as in rat bastard - and my mate Skrant.
‘You think there’ll be a gabzin’ tonight?’ asked Skrant.
‘Gabzin’ or no gabzin’, we’re here anyway,’
‘Yeah, but do you think there will be?’
There was silence for a moment while I thought. I took a deep, hard drag on one and then let the smoke flow out from me like a ghost – either its or mine or both.
‘It’s hard to tell now that ‘link comes on all different numbers for all different …’ I paused, looking for the right word, ‘… other numbers. Means we can’t guess when some might be getting desperate.’
‘I’m desperate,’ he shot back.
‘Me too, I’m spent. I beebee-d down to the center today, and got these with the five finger discount,’ I said, holding up my cigarette pack, ‘that and the usual dirt.’ Skrant looked me hard in the eyes for a moment, thinkin’.
‘You discounted cigarettes?’ he asked.
‘The nick, nab, rack grab.’ I explained.
‘How on Earth?’ (he meant because they kept ‘em behind the counter)
‘I leant straight over,’
‘Bullshit,’ He was right. We were all ace at the five finger discount. The nick, nab, rack grab. But we weren’t that good. No one was.
‘Alright, alright,’ I gave in, ‘I tried that crazy jack in the box thing that Slothsmen was talkin’ about. It worked too. Perfectly.’
‘Just popped him in the snozz?’
‘I didn’t let him see me come in. I waited ‘til he got to doing something out back and then, while ducking down amongst all the gum and choccies, I called him back out. When I heard him real close, I jumped up, popped him one – he dropped, I grabbed a few packs and I was gone.’ Skrant said not a word, simply raised his drink and drank to mine. We sat in silence for a moment and then we heard some whisperin’ ‘round front.
‘You reckon it’s someone gabzin’?’ Skrant asked. I signaled with my hand for him to shut up a moment. We listened carefully. They were slangin’, but we got the gist. No one could slang like us.
‘Definitely a gabzin’,’ I whispered. We heard the ding-a-ling go as they entered. I stood up and peered carefully around the corner.
‘Who is it? What they got?’ Skrant asked.
‘Can’t tell who, they’re wearin’ stockings. They both got tiksies though,’
‘How they holdin’ ‘em? You reckon they can push ‘em good?’
‘One of ‘em has no idea, he’s just proppin’. The other guy though, the one doin’ the holdin’-up, he seems alright though.’
Skrant moved over to his bike and started kickin’ the chain off. It was old and shitty and so it came off real easy. It was stained red with what anyone would have thought was simply rust, but I knew very well that it wasn’t. He held it tight in his hand, and stood behind me.
‘What you got Marc? Just flesh and bone?’
‘Nah, I got a pencil. It’ll have to do,’ My tiksi had broke off in a fella a few nights back.
‘A pencil?’
‘The pen is mightier than the sword,’ I said.
‘Yeah, at writin’. Not at stickin’ though,’
‘It’ll have to do.’ I repeated and then scurried around the corner like the rat I was. Nothing needed to be said, we knew the drill. I rolled past the front door and sat crouched under the windows. I pushed my ear right up against the wall, listening.
‘Somethin’ just moved passed the door Tez, outside’ said the clueless one. His voice was as shaky as ol’ Mcfly’s now is – sadly. I reckon it must have been his first time.
‘It’s probably just a rat or something. You’ve got a jabber, is a snake scared of a rat?’
‘Guess not,’ was his reply. Funny thing was though, even though snakes often ate rats – rats also often ate snakes. Rats were one of those creatures that really shook the shackles of the food chain. Really challenged the grand scheme of things. I liked that – hence Arbie.
‘Is that it?’ It was the stronger one again, talkin’ to the storeowner now.
‘We don’t make all that much, you can take what you want from the shelves though,’ he was reserved but firm, he was accustomed to such occurrences. I heard some shuffling and I knew soon they’d come walkin’ out the door. The same door which I sat crouched next to, waitin’. Whoever was in front, I’d have him. The other was Skrant’s. I breathed quietly and deeply, waiting for that ding-a-ling to go. When it finally did, I lunged forward with my pencil, driving it straight through the back of his ankle. He fell like a bag of shit, and smelt just as bad. It was the stupid one. His mate stepped out quick after and lunged at me, going for a jab with his tiksi. I jumped back, easy. Still in a crouched position, and looking up at him, I realized he was far bigger than I had noticed. Huge. He flipped his tiksi around in his hand, tryin’ to scare me, and then he went for another jab. In the same instance, Skrant stepped out from around the corner and swung the chain, wrappin’ it hard around the man’s head and face and stoppin’ him in his tracks. As he pulled the chain back it dragged and took stocking and skin with it. Openin’ his head like an ol’ can of paint. Red spilt down his front and onto his friend and the pavement. The man stepped back to look at the both of us. The storeowner now stood in the frame of the front door, watching. We were all struck still and silent. Him – because there were two of us, and one with a chain. Us - because he was still standing after the chain. We’d seen it drop many men. After awhile, the huge man threw the bag at the storeowner’s feet, and dropped the tiksi at his own.
‘We’ll go, but please don’t call the blues,’ he said. As in from red, white and blue. The storeowner nodded and so did we. He picked up his whimpering friend and laid him over his shoulder.
‘Thank you,’ he said, ‘thank you very much.’ And with a slight bow of his big head the man started walking the stretch, and eventually disappeared into its darkness.