The Unstoppable Armitage Harrison Wilford Shaw

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

I didn’t mean to say it aloud, at least of all to the kid’s face. The words just slipped out of their own volition. In my defense, it had been a long day. It started with the twins being late getting to school. Then I helped my older brother and his wife move a thousand boxes of books, which were, as he joked, “worth more than I’d ever make,” up to their new penthouse apartment because he was too cheap to hire someone. Finally, traffic got me here an hour late, and Mr. Lannister was too happy to dock me. On top of that, it was still three more hours until my lunch break, and all I wanted to do was sleep.

My co-worker, Edward Jefferson, cleared his throat with a snort, bringing me back to reality. Edward was a forty-six-year-old former map maker who loved a good laugh and claimed he only came to work for the money and to watch what he called “The Marty Moreno Show.” 

 “Uhh-what I meant to say is, who do we have here?”

Edward snorted, knowing good and well that was not what I meant. “As I was saying,” He began in his semi-gruff voice, shoving some paperwork in at him. “I want you to meet our newest junior security guard…” He glanced at the kid, who nodded at him encouragingly, then shook his head. “Armitage Harrison Wilford Shaw III.“

I almost repeated my earlier exclamation, but the kid saved me by reaching forward and shaking my hand like a rattle.

Never once had I judged someone solely based on their looks. That was, until now. He, the kid, was tall, with an average build, dangerously large blue eyes, short brown hair flopping around his head, and an eager look slapped across his round, sun-kissed face. In short, he resembled a overgrown puppy.

 “It is an honor to be here and work with you both!” He cried, grinning so hard that his eyes almost disappeared, which was saying something. I looked to Edward for anything to help me make sense of this, but he just shrugged.

 “Now, Mr. Shaw-”

“Oh, please, sir,” he gushed. “you can call me Armitage or Harry; Harry is what my dad and friends me. Or if you want to, you can call me Armie; that’s what my mom calls me, but only when she’s happy, but when she’s mad, Mother tends to call me by my whole name, or sometimes she even calls me-Oh no, I’m rambling aren’t I sir?”   

He looked so stricken that Edward erupted in a fit of coughing, which was my cue.

“Ahh, no worries, kid.” I waved it off. “Nice to meet you, I’m Marty.”

Sufficiently recovered, Edward continued. “Any questions you have, Marty can answer them, not that I expect you to have many, as this job is pretty straightforward. I’ll be working the door, so you’ll be on screens with Marty-“

“Hey hey, wait a second there, Edward,” I stare him down. “I thought all interns start by the doors?”

Edward shrugged again, avoiding eye contact with a smile. “Feel free to talk to Lannister.” He replied innocently.

I grumbled and sank back into my chair. Lannister’s decisions served only to make those under him suffer, an activity he found most enjoyable. When I recommended we upgrade the monitors we had since Lincoln was president, he scoffed and suggested I get some glasses if I couldn’t see what was on the screen. He even made sure to remind me if I did, they wouldn't cover it under the insurance. Talking to him only makes things worse.

“Alright.” I conceded with a glare.

“Well then, uhhh-Harry- any questions?”

“No, sir!” He saluted Edward, who blinked.

“Well then, I guess that’s good luck.” He winked at me and mouthed you’ll need it.

As soon as Edward left, the floodgates burst. “I just want to start by saying again what an honor it is to get the chance to work here at this small but prodigious store, and I can only hope that one day I can raise to the level you are, Ms...Oh, forgive me, I never did get your last name.” 

I sighed and opened my mouth to tell him, then thought better. The less information this kid was running around with, the better. “It’s just Marty.”

He almost dropped the papers Edward gave him. “Oh no, ma’am, do you know what Mother would do if she knew I called a respectable adult by their nickname, let alone first name?” He shuddered. “it would break her sweetheart.”

Okay, it was time for a subject change. “So, how old are you anyway?”

“Oh, I am eighteen, ma’am.” He smiled broadly. “I bet you couldn’t have guessed. People always think I am either sixteen or twenty-one, though there was this one woman who had the strangest notion that-“

I had met people like this, my dear sister-in-law being the most prevalent. I knew from experience you had to stop them, or they could go on forever.

I held up a hand and plastered on a smile. “How about a tour? Then I’ll show you how to watch the screens.”

You would’ve thought I was Bill Gates offering him a billion dollars the way his face shone.

I gave Harry a tour of our small office, which only consisted of two chairs, some drawers, a table, and the wall of seven CCTV monitors linked to cameras around the store, then ran him through the basics. After he knocked over a chair and the drawers and persistently asked me when he would get his laser gun, I had him sit and watch the monitors. Thankfully, he took to that job and kept his eyes glued to the screens. There weren’t many customers out this late. Usually, there were those just coming from work or mothers doing last-minute shopping.

Right now, we just had a few single people, two couples, a family, and a group of elderly women, all carrying walkers, canes, and enormous bags of all shapes and colors. All of them were either in the meat or close to the front.

Seeing him settled in, I opened the book I brought, some famed mystery my niece had been gushed over nonstop, and started to read.

“Uh, ma’am?!” Harry cried. “Ma’am, ma’am, look!”

“Marty, the name is Marty,”  I mumbled, tearing my eyes from my book to the screen he was pointing at, number five, which showed the meat section. I didn’t see anything unusual for ten at night, the odd lumberjack grabbing a roast, a couple picking out sausages, the mother and little boy with packs of lunch meat, and-

I did a double-take. “What in the-?“

Just behind the mother and boy, one of the elderly women, the tiny one, struggled to shove a whole frozen turkey into her cardigan.

Harry stared at the screen, dumbfounded. “She-she can’t possibly think she can get away with that.”

I shook my head. “Believe me, in the ten years I’ve worked here, this isn’t the strangest thing I’ve seen.” I reached into my pocket and radioed Edward about the situation.

He snickered. “Now that’s one for the scrapbooks!”

On the screen, we watched him slide off his stool and make his way to the freezer section.

“Is he going to arrest her?” The kid was leaning so close his nose nearly touched the screen. “Do we get handcuffs?” 

“No,” I chuckled. “he’ll give her a warning and escort her out.”

As I predicted, the confrontation was brief, and he soon escorted the shuffling lady to the door.

I was so busy watching Edward that I didn’t remember the other monitors until the kid-Harry- yelped.

“Marty-I mean Ma’am-I mean- LOOK!”

I turned back to Harry, his skinny finger shaking in disbelief. In the candy aisle, another elderly woman, this time in a beehive blonde wig and slacks, was stuffing candy bags and bars in her oversized tote bag. Keeping my eye on her, I instructed the kid to watch the other screens while I went for my walkie-talkie.

“Hey Edward, you got another other pilfering Snickers in candy.”

 Edward nearly choked. “Have they gone mad? Is it the full moon or something?”

I held back a smile. “Need my help?”

“Nah, I got it.”

The room filled with silence, a silence that made me glance over at the kid. Harry stared at screen one, which showed the cash register. His face was a ghastly white, and his mouth opened and closed like a guppy.

“Hey, kid,” I asked, “You alright? You look like you just saw the creature from the black lagoon.”

I peered at the monitor and stopped breathing.

In front of the cash registers, one of the elderly ladies from the group, a tall one in the sunhat, was no longer holding a cane. In her arms rested a sparkly pink AK-47. Next to her, two other women pulled handguns from their purses.

****

“Call 911!” I yelled at Harry while radioing Edward and scanning the screens. I finally found him on screen four, not moving. My heart dropped as I saw the one with the ridiculous blonde wig tying him to a stand while the tiny fat one stood watch, toting a semiautomatic. For a gut-wrenching moment, I thought he was dead. Then I realized, with relief, they wouldn’t be tying him up if he was dead. They finished and then hurried to the front.

Harry grabbed the intercom phone and then wailed. “It’s not working!”

I didn’t have time for this.

Hissing softly, I used my phone and called it in. Then I grabbed my Taser and the doorknob.

“Where are you going?” His eyes were blue, frightened moons.

“Stay here.” I didn’t wait for his answer.

The security office was in the back of the store, while the registers were near the front. I crept along the cold floor to the candy aisle and found Edward leaning against the shelves, tussled up like a turkey. He made no response when I tried to wake him, which worried the hack out of me for two reasons.

One, he could have a concussion or, worse, have been knocked into a coma. Two, that meant until the police arrived, I was on my own. My heart dropped and my mouth dried. There was no way I could take on all of them myself.

More shouting came from the front, so I found a hiding spot behind some boxes that gave me a perfect vantage point.

All the customers, except the woman and her child, were on the ground with their hands on their heads. The little boy bawled while his mother tried to calm him, staring fearfully at the robbers. The lumberjack and the couple were closest to the door, and the woman was near the aisle. Three women stood strategically blocking exits and watching the customers. The last two were at the registers.

“We don’t want any heroes.” The tiny one snarled, pointing her gun at the cashier.

“I’m no hero.” One of the cashiers, a thickset, nasally teenager named Rodney, sobbed. “In fact, I’m the opposite of a hero; just don’t hurt me-”

“Quiet now,” The blonde one said. “Just hand over the money, young man, and no one will get hurt.”

The other cashier, a middle-aged woman called Cathleen, was scooping the money into one of their tote bags, her face blank.

I dashed around my mind for a plan, but the only thing I could do was delay them until the police came. I clutched my cross necklace and started praying, for it would take a miracle-

“Freeze!”

My mouth dropped.

All the women obeyed, and their mouths dropped.

Standing, with his knees knocking, was Harry. With a tiny plastic water gun.

I moaned, and reminding myself to strangle the kid later, I tensed, preparing to charge him if they started shooting.

But they didn't.

The four women burst out.

Laughing.

***

The police came five minutes later, to the robbers' shock. They detained and arrested the four grumbling women. After talking to the officers, talking to an embarrassed Mr. Lannister, and seeing Edward, who had woken up dazed but okay, I walked over to Harry, who was sitting on the outside bench staring at nothing.

“You okay, kid?”

 Harry looked up with a stunned expression. “Uhh-I think so.”

“Need a ride home?”

He shook his head. “Uhh-n-n-no, thank you, ma’am.”

We stared at the chaos in front of us, blue and red lights flashing, people shouting and talking, and cold wind whipping through my coat.

“That was one stupid thing you did, they could have shot you.”

Harry gulped, then closed his eyes. "I preferred not to think about that."

I paused, a small smile touching my lips. “But... it kept them busy until the police arrived, and no one got hurt. So, I guess, thanks...Harry. You’re a real hero.” I slapped him on the back.

His face flushed pink, then red. “M-m-me? Hee-he-he-he-”

“Yeah, you.” I turned back toward the police cars, “You know, kid…with a little training, of course, I think somewhere inside that beanpole frame, you got the makings of a true security guard-“

I heard a thunk and whipped around to see empty air.

Armitage Harrison Wilford Shaw III had fainted dead away.