Part one of this story can be found here: https://broussardlana.wordpress.com/2017/10/22/at-the-shopette-pt-1/
“What’s your name?” asked the dark cop.
“Greg….Greg Taylor,” I said.
“So Greg, you should be in school, why are you here?”
“Lunch,” I answered weakly.
“So, you like baseball cards, do ya?” asked the dark cop.
“Umm, yeah,” I said.
“Yeah!” he bellowed. “It’s yes sir!”
“Yes sir, sir!” I said.
“So Greg, what’s your dad’s name?” asked the blond M.P.
“No! He just got promoted!” I whined.
“Oh really?” asked the dark cop.
“Well, how’s he gonna feel knowing you took him down?”
“I don’t know,” I was almost sobbing.
“Look at your hair! You think you’re cool?” the dark cop grabbed me up by the shoulders. He looked at the blond cop.
“How tough are ya?” he sneered. He drew back his hand like he was gonna punch me. I flinched. The blond cop put his arm out.
“Easy Teke,” he said.
“I know punks! You don’t wanna grow up to be a punk!” said the dark cop.
“Yeah kid,” the other cop looked at me. “Nobody likes a weirdo, huh?
“Why did you take them?” bellowed the dark cop.
I looked down at my shoes.
“Answer me!” He lunged at me again. I shielded my face with my hands.
“I just saw them. I wished I had brought more money, but I didn’t…” I said weakly.
“Oh yes, you didn’t, just slipped your mind,” sneered the dark cop.
“So Mr. Taylor, what do you think we should do?” asked the blond cop.
“I…. don’t…..know…..” I said.
“Take him down to the station, call his parents,” said the dark cop.
“No, please!” I said.
The dark cop raised his arm at me. I flinched.
“Whoa, Teke…. We can’t beat him up here,” said the blond cop.
They looked at each other. They looked at me.
“He needs a good lesson,” said the dark cop.
“Yep,” said the blond guy.
“Need to make sure he doesn’t get on the sports teams anymore…” said the dark cop. I looked down. Baseball, football were my life. I thought about what I was missing in math, algebra never looked so good. Did the school wonder where I was? Had they called my mother?
“I mean, do we really need a guy in the Army making major if his son is a Klepto?” asked the blond cop.
“No we don’t,” said the dark cop smirking at me.
“Alright kid, get up, come with us,” said the dark cop.
I got up. This was gonna be it for me. Drowned in shame and taking my family down with me. I followed them outside. My head hung low. A few days earlier I had been the guy taking Kathy Sibley to the dance, now I was a thief, a Stealer of Cards, a base hitter without a future, a wannabe Joe Namath.
In the car, I looked at the back of their heads, military haircuts, police caps. I wondered who I would call when I got to the station. My mom or my dad? Teke looked back at me and smirked again. I stared at the floorboard. The car stopped and I looked up and saw Grayson Junior High School.
“Umm…why are we here?” I asked weakly.
“Go on kid, get out!” said the blond cop.
“What are you waiting for?” asked the Fine Fisted Teke.
“Umm…nothing, do I…just go?” I asked.
“Yeah, march on up there, we’re gonna be right here til we are sure you are inside,” said the blond cop.
“But, I thought…”
“Shut up kid before we change our minds. Don’t let us ever see you again!” Teke said slinging a fist into his palm.
I didn’t ask twice but bounded up the front steps. I turned back to look, the two MPs were laughing and shaking their heads. It was 1975…