�Okay old man, let�s get the safe now. Caolin, keep an eye on the kids�
With that Charlie moved to the back room; Vittorio followed him with the gun pressed to his back. As soon as they were out of sight I moved quickly over to Felix. I saw that Caolin had a gun as well. He herded us to the far corner as he pulled a stool over to the door where he could watch us, and anyone approaching the store at the same time. He was also young, bigger of frame than Vittorio, with curly, unruly, ash blonde hair and a fair complexion. I couldn�t help but think of several of the bright-eyed freckled children in the primary school, and perhaps another. Caolin definitely seemed out of place in this role, but maybe that was just a product of the prejudice I had developed over the years. He was understandably nervous as he scanned the streets outside hoping that no one approached. I couldn�t help wondering why they chose to rob the store during late afternoon, one of the busiest times of the day for Charlie�s.
No sooner had I thought this than Caolin shouted in a boyish voice, �Hurry up, Vittorio! Get out here someone�s coming!�
The Italian stumbled out of the back room with the satchel full of money, bills spilling loosely on the floor at the same time as the doorbell chimed. I remember that moment clearly, like in the movies when overly dramatic moments are captured in slow motion. The merry ringing of the little brass bell seemed to mock the look of horror on the face of the young mother, who clutched her child, as she witnessed the criminal bolting around the corner towards her with gun drawn. Caolin stepped behind the young woman and the child and grabbed her, sending her into convulsions of terror. He escorted the shocked woman over to the corner where we were sitting and in a surprisingly gentle way told her to sit down. Her child couldn�t be more than six years old; he was a small, curious little boy whose intelligent eyes seemed to take in his surroundings without question. Maybe he was in shock, but I would have expected him to be more distraught seeing as his mother was in a horrible state.
�Don�t cry mama,� he said.
I found that familiar sadness well in me, as I cocked my head and watched him look at her. I understood her fear. Losing a child is the most foundation rocking experience a person can experience. I was awakened from my reverie to the sound of that Scottish brogue.
�Let�s just go now Vittorio!�
I turned to see Vittorio slide into the back room again and heard his voice echo roughly, �There�s more here. I�ve just about got��
The sound of police sirens cut him off. I�m sure that the feeling of dread they instilled in me was multiplied tenfold in the criminals. My heart dropped as I realized this wasn�t going to end easily. Caolin froze. His eyes looked up as if pleading and his hands started to shake. Vittorio blindly rounded the corner with his gun drawn for the second time in all of thirty seconds. He bolted for the glass door with the satchel at the same time as the megaphone outside ordered, �Come out now with your hands up!� I remember thinking stupidly clich� it sounded.
Even more idiotically, Vittorio cracked the door and fired his pistol with a �POP POP POP!� My hands instinctively covered my ears as we cowered in the corner. The young woman cradled her child as she broke into new sobs. Her child stared with wide eyes in a look that seemed to imply both awe and detachment. Felix rose to stand with Charlie and tried to usher us all behind the counter. In the rush I heard many answering shots and the shattering of glass and whine of ricocheting bullets. As we all fell to the floor, hands over our heads, I heard an eerie silence consume the place. It was quickly broken.
�Aaaah shit�aaaaah shitshit�I�m hit, Caolin�BASTARDS!�
The sound of a few more shots echoed loudly and more broken glass shattered. I heard the crash of shelves being overturned and the scraping of dragging tables. I struggled to sit up amid the mass of tangled limbs and slid out around the counter.
Charlie warned, �Stay down, Gretchen.� And laid his hand on my arm. I looked at him, and he smiled with a smile that didn�t quite reach his eyes as he said, �That cross around your neck won�t save you from bullets.�
�I don�t blame it for its frailty, Charlie. I�ll be careful.� I shuffled out to get a broader view of the room and witnessed the destruction around me. The glass of the two broad and blinded windows was strewn all over the floor, glowing like embers in the filtered late afternoon sunlight. The shattered glass of the door flashed blue and red in the reflected light of police car racks. Shelves were overturned to form a barricade inside the door. Caolin sat with his back to the barricade and his shaky hands clasped around the unfired gun. Vittorio was wrapping a pilfered Ace bandage around a bloody biceps, as he grimaced in pain and held the large gun at a ridiculous angle between shaking knees. If not for our proximity it would have been humorous.
Vittorio shouted, �Caolin, you can�t cover the door hiding like that! Don�t let them in!�
�This wasn�t supposed to happen like this�not�I can�t��
�You stupid Mick, I�m the one shot! Stop your whining and cover the fucking door!�
I couldn�t help rolling my eyes at the geographically misplaced ethnic slur as I leaned back against the counter. I was staring right into Caolin�s moisture-rimmed blue eyes when the telephone rang, cutting the air like a bullet. I looked over at Charlie. He looked to Vittorio. Vittorio looked at Caolin and Caolin at me, and the phone kept ringing. Finally Vittorio said, �Answer it!�
Caolin retorted, �I don�t know what to say. You answer it!�
Vittorio gestured violently with his gun towards the phone. Caolin finally capitulated and picked up the phone. �Hello�
It sounded ridiculous, but I guess there is no better way to start off a conversation. �No� Yes� No one is hurt� Keep back� I don�t know� I don�t know� Wait.�
Looking at Vittorio Caolin said, �He wants us to give up the hostages and he says they�ll stop firing.�
Dragging himself to the phone, Vittorio grabbed it from him and said harshly into the mouthpiece, �How'bout you give us a car and a driver and we won�t have to bust off a few more rounds in your doughnut eating asses?� and he hung up.
�Oh, that was a marvelous bit of negotiating Vittorio,� Caolin intoned. �What are we supposed to do now?�
