The Writers' Circle

"You gotta gimme that back!"
The man in the hunter green coat turned, looking slightly puzzled. "Why on Earth would I do that?"
"It's not mine!"
"So you stole the gun, too?"
"It's Tre's. He'll kill me if I don't come back with it!"
"Then perhaps you should take that as a hint to not go back." The man in the hunter green coat, turned and resumed walking.
Sweets fell into step behind him. He wasn't going to go back to his neighborhood in disgrace like this. No one would ever respect him. It'd even be better if he'd gotten arrested rather than come back a failure. He hated that. He wasn't a failure. He just wasn't good at getting respect.
"Mister, please. You gotta gimme that gun back!"
The man in the hunter green coat stopped short, turning to face him. His expression had changed from the smile he'd displayed before to a look of stern consternation. Clearly, his mind hadn't changed about the pistol, but he realized that this wasn't going to end anything like he'd thought at the beginning of the night.
"What is your name?"
"Sweets."
"I didn't ask for your nickname. I asked what is your name? What is the name that your parents gave you? What is your family's name?"
The man in the hunter green coat was an imposing figure. Sweets had surprised himself by not backing down, even in the face of such an obvious failure. "Tim." He found himself unable to cling to his bravado.
"Timothy is it?" The man in the hunter green coat rubbed his neatly cropped goatee. "Was this your first time robbing someone?"
Timothy nodded.
"Timothy. I am not going to give you back this gun. I will not allow you to return to your evening's activities and potentially harm or rob someone else. I WILL NOT allow you to do this to anyone else. So. I am faced with the dilemma of what to do with you. I can see that you are adamant about not returning to face this - Tree is it? You're afraid that he'll kill you. Did you mean that he will kill you? Or did you mean that he would give you the thumping of your life?"
"Tre, Mister. His name is Tre." Timothy cast down his eyes in defeat. "He'll thump me. He's my brother. But if I mess this up, he'll never let up. He'll never respect me. I can't go back."
"Then perhaps you should consider going forward, young Timothy." The man in the hunter green coat poked his breastbone with two fingers. "The respect that you need.. begins here. You can't get that from Tree."
"Tre."
"Whatever. I'm afraid that at this rate you won't figure it out until it's far too late. Where is your brother waiting for you?"
Timothy was stunned over the question. He didn't mean to actually take him back to Tre, did he? Just what was this man thinking? He couldn't fathom it. Was he just plain crazy?
Without asking, the man in the hunter green coat grabbed the scruff of his collar and tugged sternly in the direction he'd been walking. Remarkably, it seemed that the man in the hunter green coat knew exactly where Tre was waiting for him. He walked purposefully with Timothy in tow, not showing the slightest concern at the thought of confronting his older brother and his gang. His first impulse was to pull away -but Timothy felt very strongly at that moment that this might be a way to save face.
Tre would forget all about his failure if he saw what kind of crazy person he'd run into. They'd laugh for a moment or two, sure; but then Tre would get serious and get his stuff and his gun back. At worst, he might let him try again . only Timothy realized that he didn't really want to do this again. Up until now, all he'd done had been hanging around Tre. The kids around here were tough -and he wasn't. There was the drug crowd or the gangs, or then there was being unaffiliated -which basically meant becoming the victim of either or both.
He let himself be dragged along by the man in the hunter green coat, who was walking almost gingerly towards the park. Tre would be waiting there over by the basketball courts. Timothy resigned himself to the embarrassment of being exposed as a fraud -unable to even bully one man when he had a fully loaded gun. But strangely, there was a sense of relief too. His failure would literally guarantee that Tre would never trust him with another robbery. He'd be the running joke of Tre's gang, but at least he wouldn't have to do it again. His insides had turned to mush when he thought of it -actually taking from someone else.
The man in the hunter green coat crossed the street with him in tow. In the dim twilight of late evening, traffic was light. Most everyone was already at home, enjoying their dinner. Timothy sighed. At least only a handful of people will be around to see this. He could see Tre sitting among the benches. As usual, he sat higher on the bench than his boys, signifying his status. There were several of his friends gathered around him, along with some other people that he knew from school. One of them signaled their approach, and Tre turned around.
The man in the hunter green coat kept a solid grip on the collar of his jacket, leaving no doubt that he'd been caught. He could see the look of anger flash in his brother's eyes. He let go of his collar after they reached the gathering, and Timothy shot a sideways glance at him. The man in the hunter green coat paid him no heed, looking directly at Tre.
"This young man is your brother, is he not?"
Tre looked coldly at the man in the hunter green coat, and then flashed a look of white hot hatred at his brother. "Yeah. So what?"
The man in the hunter green coat fixed his gaze on Tre. "You should take the time to train your soldiers before you send them out to work for you. Young Timothy is clearly not skilled enough to handle such a difficult assignment."
That definitely was not what Timothy expected him to say. He was struck dumb by the man's apparent disregard for his own safety
Tre looked puzzled as well. "What?"
"Look at him. He's barely sixteen, if that. Did you simply expect him to be able to hold a gun and it would all work out? Surely you can't be that stupid."
The man in the hunter green coat did not let his gaze waver. Tre, on the other hand, looked around at his boys, who stared back at him with shrugs and a few sparse snickers. The man in the hunter green coat rubbed the whiskers of his chin again, as if he were giving thought to some complicated matter of state. Tre looked back at Timothy.
"Why didn't you shoot this fool?"
Timothy helplessly shrugged. "My gun. He took it. I tried to get it back. He's crazy! He dragged me back here -made me take him to you.. -I"
"The adults are speaking now, Timothy. You should be quiet." The man in the hunter green coat cut him off, without turning. He maintained his gaze on Tre -not acknowledging anyone else.
"Timothy's attempt at crime was nothing short of amusing. I had to see for myself if you truly wanted him dead or something. Sending an untrained soldier into the field is certain death, so I thought at first he might have been someone you wanted killed. I see now that you are little more experienced than he is, when it comes to such things."
The man in the hunter green coat continued his lecture without waiting for Tre to say anything. "When I insulted you just now, you looked to your vassals, rather than answer my challenge directly. You may have some skill at whatever it is you do amongst your peers, but you are certainly lacking when it comes to the proper instruction in leadership."
The man in the hunter green coat looked calmly at Tre. Timothy could tell that Tre had reached his limit, and he gasped as he watched his brother grab for the pistol he kept in his pants. Everything moved in slow motion as his heart skipped a beat. Tre drew the gun straight across his chest leveling it in the direction of the man in the hunter green coat. Timothy watched him step to his left and forward, even while Tre's finger was squeezing the trigger. It was as if his every move was for Timothy's benefit.
His coat flashed open. Timothy could see the coat move, but he couldn't tell what was happening. A flash of metal sliced through the evening air. Timothy could hear the crunch of steel on steel as the man in the hunter green coat swung downward. In slow motion, he could see the hammer of Tre's pistol pull back, only to be cut instantly by a -sword?
When the motion stopped, the man in the hunter green coat had rested a long straight blade with a curved head and curved handle upon the tip of Tre's outstretched arm. Timothy could hear the clicking of the pistol, but the hammer had been sliced off, rendering it useless.
"Whew." He began. "That was exciting, wasn't it? You know, a long time ago, I would have had your arm off as well, but I'm feeling benevolent this evening."
He could see the edge of the blade dig ever so slightly into the flesh of Tre's wrist. If he'd continued his swing, he would have severed Tre's arm as well as the hammer of the pistol, and everyone else knew it too. The group gasped collectively at the man in the hunter green coat's speed and precision. The deadly blade seemed to sparkle as it reflected the dying rays of the evening sun.
"You should have asked yourself before this all began why I wasn't in the least bit afraid of you or your group here. Your arrogance made you ill prepared for any type of resistance, and your inexperience made you ill prepared for the concept that there might be someone out there more skilled than you."
The blade dug a hair's breadth deeper into Tre's arm. The man in the hunter green coat's eyes had turned to an almost fiery gold hue in the evening twilight. Like before, his eyes never wavered from Tre's --as though the rest of his group were nothing more than lawn ornaments.
"If you move it even an inch, I will cut it from your body."
Tre's eyes widened with an unfamiliar look. His brother Timothy recognized it immediately -unlike the others, it was a look he was completely familiar with. Tre was afraid. His brother glanced sideways towards the rest of the group.
"Don't look to them. They can't help you. At this distance, with Shamiseth I could sever this arm, or impale you three times over before any of them could help you. No, your business is with me tonight. Don't look away again, or I will surely kill you."
Everyone froze. A couple of his group got up from the bench, slowly backing away with their hands up, palms facing out. Apparently, they were as unprepared for a violent response as Tre had been.
"If you want to be a leader of men. Train yourself. Then make damn sure that you train your men. It angers me to see such incompetence."
The man in the hunter green coat stood upright again, and sheathed the great sword with one deft motion. Tre drew his wrist back, dropping the useless weapon on the pavement. A trickle of blood splattered on the bench in front of him.
The man in the hunter green coat turned to his side, letting his hand rest upon the pommel of his sword. The other young men on the bench inched out of the way of the two of them, wanting to be as far away from the deadly blade as possible without looking as though their courage had failed. Timothy wanted to cower behind a trash can, but he felt rooted to the spot.
"We both know where you're headed Tre. I spect' it won't be long before I'm reading about you getting shot in a ditch somewhere. You're too close minded to consider that you might have something to offer to the world around you. Timothy here, is still young enough to salvage his life if he's not hanging around you."
Tre's eyes shot hot fire at the man in the hunter green coat. He wasn't used to having someone speak to him without being afraid of him. Timothy could see now that the tables had been quickly turned and his weakness now lay bare in front of everyone. Faced with this realization, Tre resorted to unspoken bravado in the hopes of inspiring his friends to act. It didn't work because they were just as scared of the huge sword as he was.
The man in the hunter green coat reached into his pocket, and pulled out a wad of large bills. He counted out perhaps eighteen hundred dollars and laid it on the edge of the bench.
"What's this?" Tre asked.
"It's for the two weapons you lost today. I don't want there to be any hard feelings because I expect you to make sure that Timothy is to remain free from interference by you or your soldiers. I will be supervising his free time from here on out."
Tre found some of his courage. "And what if I don't?" He continued to clutch at his wrist as if he was afraid that it might fall off he let go.
The man in the hunter green coat narrowed his eyes to slits. With lightning swiftness, he withdrew Timothy's gun from his pocket and flipped it into the air. His right hand flashed into his coat once more, drawing forth the great scimitar as he slashed through the night air. Timothy's gun clattered in two distinct halves against the pavement in front of him. The gun had not simply been knocked apart by the force of his blow, but was cleanly cleft in twain through the trigger guard and barrel.
"Timothy belongs to me now. Unlike you, I can defend and protect those in my service. If any harm should come to him -even the slightest scratch from you and yours -I will know about it. If any harm should come to young Timothy, you will breath your last breath before the dawn, I assure you."
Timothy looked on in surprise and horror. Tre and his crew all recoiled to varying degrees. The man in the hunter green coat radiated sheer menace and resolve. But just as quickly as he had turned serious, his face relaxed and he smiled graciously at the bewildered youth. He turned to Timothy, lifting his back from the ground and handing it to the youth.
"Let's go Timothy. It's late and I have an excellent repast waiting."
Timothy took it from him without saying a word, knowing for certain now that his life had changed forever.