Calling All Heroes

The little man sat in a folding chair that had been brought in from the back room. He was in his late 40s with slightly thinning, gray-brown hair, and wore a pink and white vertically striped - worn, but clean - collared shirt, brown cotton pants and a pair of high-top sneakers with the name “Voit” stitched across the tongue. The blue and red rotating lights of the police cruisers parked by the gas pumps shown through the store windows and reflected off his glasses as they spoke.

“Okay, tell me, Mr. Jenkins, what happened,” the female officer asked him.

Jenkins looked up at her, his lip began to quiver and he looked away. “The gun,” he said. “It- it didn’t go off. I watched him. I tell ya, he pointed the gun right at Burt’s face and he pulled that trigger.... I heard the click. But it didn’t go off.”

The officer stood by him taking notes. “Did you see the suspect enter the store?”

“Huh?” Jenkins stuttered. “Oh, no. I was in the back. Burt was behind the counter when he came in. I came out when I heard Burt-” He broke off and wiped his brow with the moist tissue clutched in his hand.

“Was anyone else in the store, sir?” the officer asked.

“No- no, it’s been a slow night,” he said, lowering the tissue and looked up at her. “Some kids were in a little while ago, but they’d gone.” Jenkins shook his head. “I’m glad they weren’t in here when all this happened.”

“Yes, sir. Please continue.”

“Okay. Well I was- I was in the back, like I said, and I heard Burt yell...and...uh... Hey, where is Burt?”

“Mr. Perry was taken to St. Louise,” the office said still jotting in her notepad. When Jenkins was silent for a moment, she looked over to him. “His jaw got a little banged up, but he should be fine.”

“Oh, that’s good.... Yes, I remember that now,” Jenkins said.

“Now, Mr Jenkins, can you tell me what you were doing in the back?”

Jenkins fidgeted in the chair for a moment, then looked at the officer’s belt. “Oh, I was- I was using the facilities, ma’am. I had just... I had just finished when I heard Burt shout.”

“Do you recall what Mr Perry said?”

“Uh, yes, I do. It’s a little- See Burt tends to use...colorful language.”

Once again the office stopped writing and looked down at Jenkins. “It’s quite alright, sir, if there ever was a time for colorful language this is it.”

“Oh... I suppose so. I suppose so,” Jenkins said. “Yes. Well he said, fu-. He said, ‘F you, buddy. You get outta here before I call the cops.’”

“Go on.”

“Well that’s when I came out.” He pointed behind the officer to a short hall beside the drink coolers in the back of the store. “I could see the guy’s back and Burt over his shoulder. I guess I must’ve made a sound or something, ‘cause the guy turned and saw me. That’s when he- Ahh...gosh...I tell ya... Do you have to deal with this stuff every day?”

The officer glanced out the window. The suspect was in the patrol car and she could see another officer interviewing a group of kids out in the parking lot. “Some days are better than others, sir. Please continue.”

“Ah... Well, I had made a sound and this guy noticed me. That’s when he pulled the gun on Burt. He yelled that I’d better get up there or he’d shoot. So, what else could I do? I walked up there. He told me to stand over there by the beef jerky.” Jenkins pointed to a red cardboard display near the small opening that led to the back of the counter. “I did what he said. Then he turned back to Burt. I tell ya, he had the gun right in Burt’s face. He said, ‘Open-’ He said all this really slow. I don’t know if that matters, but it was real slow. He said, ‘Open the register and give me the money.’ Just like that. And Burt... Burt just said, ‘F you,’ again. That’s when-” Jenkins swallowed and shook his head from side to side. “That’s when he pulled the trigger.”

Jenkins sat quietly as the officer wrote. After a few seconds of silence his leg began to shake. He rested his hand on his knee to still it, but was unsuccessful.

When the officer was finished writing, Jenkins continued. “Well, like I said before, the gun didn’t go off, and Burt- Burt didn’t miss a beat, I tell ya. He just reached over the counter and grabbed the guy. I thought he was about to drag him over, but he just held onto him and called for me.” Jenkins nodded his head. “You know, I tell ya, I never thought anything like this would happen. I mean, I know gas stations get robbed sometimes, but this is a pretty good neighborhood and there’s always two of us in the store. Henry - he's the owner - Henry may not be the best boss I ever had, but he’s always been set on having two people at all times. I’ll give him that.

“So when Burt called my name, I came over. I tell ya, I didn’t know quite what to do, but I could see the guy kinda squirming and it looked like Burt might be losing him. So I sorta grabbed him from behind. I reached around him and kinda locked my hands together.” Jenkins demonstrated by forming a loop with his arms and gripping his left wrist with his right hand. “So I had him like this and Burt came around and we both pulled him back up-right.

“And he was cussing and yelling at us and saying I don’t know what, but mostly he was trying to get loose from me. But I wouldn't let him go. I had a real good hold on him. I tell ya, it wasn't easy with him wiggling and moving like he was, but I kept on him. It was something. I'll tell ya, I never thought I'd be in a situation like that. No, si- No, ma'am. I never thought I would. I wasn't exactly a jock in high school, you know. I guess I can tell ya I'd never even been in a fight until tonight. I mean, I got into scuffs with my cousin, Barry. when we were kids, but nothing like a real fight... I never thought I'd be in a situation like that."

The officer had ceased writing in her notebook and was looking around the store. A few moments after Jenkins stopped talking, she looked down at him. His leg had stopped shaking. He sat there, expectantly, still, staring up at her, a slight smile on his face. "You did very well, sir," she said. "You were very brave."

"Oh, well," Jenkins said, his face turning a bright red. "I guess it wasn't much, but it sure was something. I tell ya-" Jenkins paused to cough quickly into is open hand. "Anyway, I had ahold of this guy - the robber - and he was trying to get loose. He swung his arms around and... That was when he got Burt, I think. Must've got him pretty good, too, but I guess it just made Burt mad, and he rared back and punched the guy right in the face.” Jenkins’ smile was large now. He laughed. “Yeah, I tell ya, Burt hit him so hard that his head came back and almost got me. But I dodged it just in time.”

The officer had resumed writing. "And at that point the suspect became unconscious. Is that correct, Mr. Jenkins?" she asked.

"Uhm, yeah," Jenkins said. "Yeah, he went limp and kinda fell outta my arms. You know, just occurred to me- I'm glad he wasn't faking, you know? That would've been pretty clever. Would'a worked too," he said, looking down. His smile fading. He looked out the window to the parking lot and the man in back of the police cruiser. His leg began to shake again.

“Did anyone call Henry,” he asked, suddenly jerking his head away from the window.

The officer stopped writing and flipped back a page in her notepad. “Yes, sir, Mr. Fletcher has been notified. I believe he’s on his way.”

“Good. I bet. Yeah. He’ll want to check the store.” Jenkins looked around him, biting his lower lip. Except for a few packs of gum strewn across the counter, the police woman standing over him and the others in the parking lot there was no sign of the evening’s excitement.

“Ma’am,” he said. He twisted himself around in the folding chair, gripped the backrest and pushed himself up to a standing position. "I mean, Officer. That’s pretty much all I have to say. Is there anything else you need from me?”

“No,” she said taking a last look over her notes, “I believe we have everything. We’ll be calling you downtown tomorrow for a line-up.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess- Okay. Sure. So I can go home now?” he asked. “I’m pretty tired all of a sudden.”

“Yes, sir. Would you like someone to take you?”

“Oh, no. No. I don’t live far,” he said. He stepped past the officer to the door. He stood by for a moment without opening it, then turned for another look around the store, then to the window and out into the parking lot, and, finally, back to the officer. “Ma’am, could you do something for me?”

The officer, having completed her interview, was surveying the scene. At his question, she stiffened slightly and turned toward him. “Yes, sir. What do you need?”

“When Henry gets here,” Jenkins said opening the door, “would you please tell him I quit?”