3 Swift Run
“I had ducked behind the concrete-walled convenience store and scrunched my eyes shut, waiting for the boom, but it never came. Cautiously, I opened my eyes, stood up, and peeped around the corner. A fat man in a white shirt with a plastic name tag, who might have been the manager, stood by the big red button that cuts off the gas flow, his hand still on the switch. If the ice cubes and Coke-colored liquid were anything to go by, someone had dumped a Big Gulp on the cigarette butt. Another gas station employee was sprinkling sawdust on the spilled gasoline and sweeping it into a dustpan. Whew.
I edged around the corner. Some of the soda stealers had scattered when it looked like the gas station was going to go kablooey, but I noticed a man in a suit peering into the vending machine to see if any sodas remained in it, and the elderly woman with the walker was still trying to reach her Dr Pepper. In a half squat, one hand clutching the walker for balance, she looked like maybe she was stuck.
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