How it had to be

 

All week, it felt as if one by one was giving their last goodbye at the yogurt shop. At least, some of the co-workers found jobs in the deli at the grocery store. Someone was tending the ice cream bar at the sandwich shop not far from Joey's Yogurt. Even the sign had been auctioned off which surprised J, but then again the week had been full of surprises. Each night it was just the two of them, J and Stevie, and it had been good times. 

They talked about the time the life-sized bag of yogurt spilled all over Stevie when he was trying to get it into the machine and he was left looking like a white ghost. There was a time when a summer camp bus stopped and they sold out all their frozen yogurt in an hour so they'd closed early. Oh, if they had a time like that, this week. But it was practically dead now. Even the owner went off on a vacation in the Ozarks. 

Sure there were a few who dropped by for one last yogurt with all the toppings they could manage, but most of the toppings were gone now. Maybe some Oreo crumbs were left, but the sprinkles went and so did the other candies.

It was sadly depressing. But there was Stevie, happy as an imp. Sometimes, J felt he needed to kiss him just to shut him up. Although, it didn't go that far in the naked yogurt shop. It was like his past was done. Now what? It was as if his life was going down the drain. 

Yes, he was sad and time fell to a standstill as he checked his phone and then looked at the ominous big clock at the top of the entrance. It was as if a bomb was ready to go off. And it might as well did when the guy with the stocking cap mask showed up with a gun. He was in solid black and not any bigger than J.

"Shit," was all J could manage under his breath. It was like a certain protocol was to happen, but then he couldn't remember it. Cause, as long as he'd worked here, they'd never been robbed. Naturally, he wondered if he would actually shit his white pants if he did get shot in the head. He guessed he would never know.

Of course, Stevie jumped out in front of him and opened the cash register immediately. No questions asked. J didn't know what was being exchanged. His heart thumped in his ears so. He was certain his hearing was going. 

Stevie counted out the money. Telling the robber the worth of each bill. Most were twenties and the rest were dollar bills. All they had was a hundred and twenty-seven dollars. Of course, the robber took it.

He was a black mysterious monster. For a moment, J was certain he's seen those Chuck Taylor's before, but he didn't dare ask. J winced hard. The robber left without even turning back. 

About then J started hyperventilating. It was true. He'd never been cut out for this job. Evidently.