Naiad 1976 - Lake-Sumter Community College

"Never considered that," Quigley said. "No, sure
didn' t, but you could have something there." He laughed as
a thought entered his mind. "Maybe I should run down and
collect my insurance," he said, his earlier dark mood giving
way to one of jocularity. "I'll have another double."
The bartender laughed and placed the drink on the bar.
Just as Quigley was finishing his drink, the door opened and
a man rushed in brandishing a gun. His mouth twitched and
his nervousness was reflected in his jerky motions.
"Lay the bread on me, man" huasped. "Be quick
about it too. You," he motioned to Quigley, "out with the
wallet. Slide it here and be careful how you slide it. "
The bartender hit the "No sale" button and the register
clacked open. He scooped out the bills and started stacking
them on the bar, glancing only for the briefest moment at
the gun lying on top of the beer cooler, under the bar, only
inches from his hand.
Quigley pulled the wallet out of his pocket and very
cautiously stooped to slide it to the nervous robber. It
slid across the floor like a shuffleboard puck and stopped
at the man's feet. As the robber reached to pick it up, the
bartender shouted, "Stay down, mister!" Quickly snatching
the gun from the top of the cooler he fired over Quigley's
head. It was all in one smooth rapid motion. A small black
dot appeared as if from nowhere right in the center of the
dishevelled looking robber's forehead . He stood for a moment,
as if frozen , and then started to pitch forward. As he fell,
another cracking sound shattered the quiet.
Quigley rose slowly, his knuckles white as he clutched
the corner of the bar. "You okay?" the bartender asked in a
shaky voice. Quigley started to open his mouth, but no
sound came. The bartender looked in astonishment at the
spreading red stain on the front of the shirt, and then
Quigley slumped to the floor. The bartender scrambled over
the bar and gently pulled him to a sitting position. Quigley's
head rolled forward and his chin came to rest just over the
red stain. The bartender eased him back to the floor, then
walked slowly to the phone and dialed the police.
"Better send someone over right away - Office Lounge ­
a guy just tried to stick up the place and he and one of my
customers are dead. Both shot. I'll fill you in when you
get here. No, never saw either one of them before. The
customer's name is Quigley, though. The other guy? "Well,
he said grimly, "I think you're gonna find his name is Quinn.
How do I know?" He paused and his voice grew husky. "let's
just say a computer told me," and he hung up.
Harold Larimer
First place prose
Naiad Creative Writing Contest
133