Cops and Robbers
Copyright March 2, 2011
Aaron A. Lehman
Bang! Bang!
“You’re dead!” Ray yelled.
“No I’m not!” Rickie yelled back.
“I shot you!”
“No you didn’t. See, I’m still walking around. You missed me.”
“No I didn’t. I shot you! Remember. I’m the cop and you’re the robber. You’re supposed to drop dead when I shoot you”
“I’m not a robber and I don’t want to die!” Rickie said as the two boys walked toward each other.
“It’s just a game,” Ray reassured the younger Rickie.
“Why do I always have to be the one that gets killed?”
“Because you’re the robber and I’m the cop.”
“Well I don’t want to be the bad guy anymore. I’m not a robber.”
“It’s just a game.”
“I’m going home.”
Ray and his younger brother Rickie often played cops and robbers around the small town neighbourhood, running to hide in the bushes or behind the big maple trees, pretending to shoot each other. All of the neighbours complained, especially when the games were played with cap guns early on a Saturday morning. Sometimes, when Rickie got tired of always being the robber and didn’t want to play anymore, Ray coaxed his younger neighbour Marty into playing.
“Can I play hide and seek with Ray and Rickie?” Marty asked his Mother one Saturday morning. He was careful to specify that it was going to be hide and seek.
“Okay, but remember, no guns.”
Marty’s parents didn’t think it was right for kids to run around pretending to kill each other, even if movie stars did it in the movies.
“I can play hide and seek,” Marty called as he ran to meet the other boys.
“We’re not playing that baby game,” Ray announced. “We’re playing cops and robbers. Rickie and I are the cops and you are the robber. And remember, when we shoot you, you have to fall down dead.”
Marty knew he shouldn’t play cops and robbers and he didn’t want to be the bad guy who was going to get killed, but when Ray offered him one of his shiny cap guns, he just couldn’t refuse.
“Okay,” Marty said as everyone loaded up their cap guns with new rolls of caps, ready for action.
“We’ll count to one hundred and then we’ll come after you,” Ray instructed.
Marty ran as fast as he could and then found two overgrown bushes behind Mrs. Stamp’s garage.
“Here we come,” Ray shouted.
Marty stayed really quiet as the boys ran past his hiding place.
Wow! I’m safe, Marty figured. I could have shot them, but I don’t want to kill cops.
Just then, Rickie caught a glimpse of Marty’s shiny cap gun.
“He’s over here!” Rickie called to Ray. “In the bushes.”
Ray and Rickie ran toward the bushes with their guns drawn. Marty knew he was going to get shot and would be dead.
I don’t want to die!
Marty didn’t want to get shot, but he didn’t want to kill anyone either.
In an instant, Marty jumped out of the bushes, grabbed his pistol by the barrel and let it fly through the air. The butt end of the gun caught Rickie right between the eyes.
Rickie screamed and fell to the ground crying. Blood from his head, mixed with tears from his eyes and snot from his nose was smeared across his face.
“Why did you do that?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know,” Marty said as he walked slowly to the scene of the disaster.
Tears welled up into his eyes and he started to cry. He honestly didn’t know why he threw the gun. He had gotten caught up in the frenzy of the moment and he knew he didn’t want to die.
Ray wiped off Rickie’s face and they realized that the injury wasn’t really all that serious. It was nothing more than a scratch and bruise from running through the bushes on a Saturday morning.
“I have to go home,” Marty said.
Relieved that Rickie wasn’t seriously injured, Marty headed for home.
The boys never told their mothers what had happened. However, it was a long time before Ray and Rickie asked Marty to play cops and robbers with them again.
