Short Story - The Toy Store - Grant Eagar

The Toy Store

By Grant Eagar

To order my books:

 Angelica: The Princess and the Pig  

Henry and Sophie: A Steampunk Adventure 

Sheila the Vampire: Dancing with the Enemy 

 

Leon Simon ran a toy store in Eastern Europe.  This was a natural fit, since he had never quite grown up and he had an affinity for toys.  He would play with his matchbox car collection while waiting for customers to enter his shop.  Making racing noises as he pushed miniature Formula-One cars around the track he had constructed on the counter.  If business was slow and customers scarce all the better.

He kept a 9mm Glock in a stuffed bear named General Bearson which sat on the counter.  Whenever he got lonely he would talk to the bear. The plastic eyes had a non-judgmental look that calmed him, encouraging him to open up and express his deepest feelings. Then appear to glaze over when he shared too much.

            One morning he set out a Danish roll and a glass of orange juice at precisely 9:00, at 9:05 the door to the shop opened and a young woman walked in. When the door closed little bells jingled, letting him know someone was in the shop. The closing door also activated three lasers that triggered a fifty caliber machine gun hidden behind a poster of Mickey Mouse; the barrel swiveled to follow the customers every move.

            Her hair was currently blonde, with thick, darker eye brows. She wore a full pink sports bra, and a black running skirt. She had her hair tied back with a black ponytail holder.  Leon’s eyes widened and he turned slightly red. He waited until she walked up to the counter and he gave her his most sophisticated secret agent gaze and snortled, “Good morning Mademoiselle, how may I be of service to you?” This was followed by an explosive sneeze, with snot being sprayed all over the Danish.

Her friendly expression instantly changed to one of disgust. “I want to purchase a present for my nephew,” she said through gritted teeth. This was code for, ‘I’m here to pick up a special message.’

Turning bright red, Leon reached over and knocked over a stack of puzzles. While picking them up he asked, “H-how about a puzzle of a p-panda bear?”

“A puzzle would be nice, but it must be that of an Indian elephant,” she said picking up several stray puzzle boxes.

He found the puzzle of the elephant and began wrapping it for her. Women seemed so nice to him at first, then turned colder the more time they spent with him then excused themselves as soon as possible.  It had something to do with his constantly running nose and his tendency to blow snot whenever he got nervous. He thought with his French operative background and his James bond sweater, girls would find him irresistible but it was all to none avail.

There was a dilemma; she was supposed to eat the Danish which contained the capsule with the secret message inside. He took a napkin and wiped the snot off the Danish the best he was able. She looked down at the Danish with the residue of snot on it, and crossed herself and mumbled, “For queen and country.” She took a deep breath and . . . bit into it. She slowly chewed and swallowed, giving him a look of pure hate all the while. She found the small microfilm in the Danish and swallowed it.  She tossed the remainder of the Danish in the waste can then handed him some coin, and drank the orange juice while he made out her change.

He handed her the puzzle and her change, and said, “I’m sooo sorry.”

She flicked her wrist with a, “Pssst,” ‘conversation over’.  Looking into his eyes she gave him a tragic smile, shook her head in disbelief and walked out of the shop.

If only he didn’t blow snot whenever he got nervous, he would have a much better love life.  As he watched her walk down the street, he noticed a taxi following her. Was this her ride or was she in trouble? He picked up Bear-son and walked out the door, “Mademoiselle! You have forgotten your bear.” She turned around and he motioned to the cab. She looked at the men inside and for a moment had a look of terror; then straightening her back and putting on a smile she walked back to him.

The taxi had stopped and was waiting; two large men in trench coats sat inside giving them the eye. Her eyes widened and she turned pale.  “Let me wrap the bear for you so you can also give this to your nephew. Please come inside, I’ll just be a moment,” he said.   She turned and gave him a torn expression.

He handed the bear to her and said, “There is a present inside.”

 The window of the cab rolled down and a man asked, “Pardon me Mademoiselle, do you know where the closest hotel is?”

Leon quickly stepped forward and motioned for her to leave and said, “Let me help you, first you’ll need to go back the way you’ve come. . .”

These men weren’t very subtle; the taxi driver could’ve told them this information. He just needed to keep them occupied until she got away. They were not even looking at him while he talked, just staring at the girl as she walked down the street.  He tried a different tact, pulling two small boxes out of his coat pockets. “Would you like a complimentary gift for your children.”

They were getting impatient; “Thank you, thank you, we need to go now,” the largest man said with a thick Russian accent. He then motioned the cab to go forward. The girl was now a half block up the street and walking fast. After the cab pulled away from the curb and began following her Leon pushed a button in his pocket and the gifts he had given the men exploded with sleeping gas and the men slumped over unconscious.  The taxi came to a stop a short distance ahead.

Leon quickly ran up and opened the car door, the girl turned around and he gave her the thumbs up sign. She gave him an appreciative smile and quickly walked away. Pushing the taxi driver onto the passenger seat, he climbed in and drove the taxi over to a park and dumped the driver into some bushes, and then he drove the car onto a fiery headed for Algeria. He climbed out of the vehicle and paid the toll.  

After walking off the fairy, he found a phone booth,where he made an anonymous call to the Algerian authorities: informing them that a boat with two known criminals was on board. He also told them the time the fairy would be arriving. He gave them the license plate number of the taxi and the men’s descriptions then he hung up when they asked who he was.

He felt bad for the taxi driver, but he would wake up with a headache and would not be able to remember what had transpired in the last four days.  There were 10 other taxis on board the fiery so no one would remember him.  This is a trick that he played different versions of from time to time.  The men in the overcoats would probably only spend a week in a holding tank and would not remember him because of the gas, but they would know that they had been played and would be more careful about coming into his neck of the woods.

A week later he got a call, “Leon is this you?"
"Who am I speaking to?" asked Leon.
"This is agent 0013, your boss, I called to tell you that you're fired."
"There is no Leon here, my English is not so good. Did you say there is a fire?"
"Leon I know it's you, and I called to tell you you're fired. We spent a week in an Algerian jail and I'll have you know it was none to pleasant. What were you thinking of by gassing us and shipping us off on a fairy boat? We had a heck of a time convincing the Algerian authorities that we were not criminals."
"I don't know what you're talking about, this is not Leon, this is the operator. Please put 3 euros into the phone."  

"Leon, I know it's you, you aren't going to weasel out of this so easy. . . " Leon hung up and  patted his new general General Bear-son’s furry head and got out his match box cars and started making vroom-vroom sounds as he raced them up and down the counter.  

The door opened and the girl who was an agent entered, she walked up to him and handed him a huge handkerchief. “Blow it!” she demanded. He gave her a curious look. “Blow your freaking nose! “ He took the cloth, emptied his nose and then she grabbed him by his coat lapels and gave him a long kiss.