The Gun Runner(35)

Halfway through the previews, a man in front of us answered a telephone call. He sat directly in front of us, slumped in his chair, talking no differently than if he was in the comfort of his living room.

People beside us and to my rear complained quietly about his rude behavior. He continued nonetheless. The screen went dark. I tapped him on the shoulder.

“Just a minute,” he said.

“I can’t believe he’s so rude,” Terra whispered as the screen illuminated.

He turned and glared at her. I tapped his shoulder again. He spun around, cupped his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone, and sighed heavily.

“I said I’ll be done in a fucking minute,” he said. “Tap me on the shoulder again, and I’ll drag your ass outside and whip it.”

I glanced at Terra. Her mouth fell open.

“Hold this.” I handed her the tub of popcorn.

A quick glance around the front of the theater revealed an exit in both corners, each illuminated by an exit sign. Typically used as fire exits or in case of an emergency evacuation, the doors opened from the inside, but not from the outside. I stood, turned toward the people behind me, and offered a shoulder shrug as an advance apology for what was about to take place.

Standing in the shallow aisle in front of my seat, I turned toward the screen and tapped him on the shoulder.

He jumped up and spun around. As soon as he did, I struck him at the base of the neck with the bottom edge of my flattened hand, paralyzing him for an instant. He dropped his phone, but before he collapsed onto the floor, I caught him by his shirt and dragged him into the main aisle.

Amidst the sounds of hands clapping, a few quiet cheers and a shrill whistle or two, I dragged him to the exit, opened the door with my shoulder and hip, and shoved him onto the asphalt of the dark parking lot. Confused, embarrassed, and scared, he stared back at me.

“If you come back in here, I’ll drag your ass outside and whip it,” I said in a sarcastic tone.

I took my seat at Terra’s side and reached for the popcorn. “What did I miss?” I whispered.

“Shhh,” she said jokingly.

Halfway through the movie, an action film, she pointed toward the screen and pressed her mouth to my ear. “Did you ever get shot at?”

I responded in a soft whisper. “Yes.”

“Did you get shot?”

“Yes, I did. Twice.”

She pulled away and narrowed her eyes. “Did you have to kill anybody? I mean at war?” she whispered.

It was a question most weren’t willing to ask, and as many weren’t either prepared or very enthusiastic to answer.

“Yes,” I said. “Several.”

Her face went somber. “I’m sorry.”

We quietly watched the rest of the movie, and both of us enjoyed it immensely. Afterward, while picking the popcorn up from the seats and preparing to leave, the couple seated behind us thanked me for removing the rude gentleman from the theater.

“You a vet?” the man asked.

I nodded. “Yes, sir. US Marines. Iraq and Afghanistan.”

He glanced at his wife and grinned. “Told you, Sheri.”

He shook my hand. “I told my wife. I said ‘that guy isn’t one to fuck with.’ I could see it when you walked in. You know how you can tell by how a guy carries himself? Well, I saw it in your walk, that’s for sure. And when that asshat started talking on the phone, I told her. I said ‘Sheri, he’s going to drag that son-of-a-bitch outside, you just watch,’ that’s what I told her. Didn’t I, Sheri?”

She responded sheepishly. “He did.”

“Then, when he said he was gonna drag you outside, I just slumped down in my seat. I knew it was on like Donkey Kong. What the hell did you do to him, anyway?”

“It was a knife hand strike.”

He chuckled. “You dropped him like a bad habit. That’s what you did.”

“I suppose so.”

“Appreciate your service,” he said with a nod. “I’m Tracy, and this is my wife Sheri.”

“Thank you. I’m Michael, and this is Terra.”

“Hi,” Terra said.

The lights came on. I glanced around the empty theater.

“You look familiar,” he said to Terra. “I’ve seen you somewhere before.”

“I doubt it,” she said.

“Maybe your shoe store,” I said.

She shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“I think it’s TV. I’ve seen you on TV. You a celebrity? Like a newscaster or something?” he asked.

“No,” she said, her voice conveying slight annoyance.

“I swear. I’ve seen you somewhere.”

“I don’t think so,” she said.

He studied her for a moment, shaking his head lightly. “I’ll remember it as soon as you’re gone, that’s what I always do.”