Flea Market Treasure

It looked just like a cheap kids toy, but it had a real weight to it. Not exactly heavy, but not light like plastic should be. It was a small, plastic raygun done up in cheap red paint. "How much do you want for this?"

Wendell Watt turned to a large, bearded man counting bills in the late-afternoon sunlight behind a plastic table in a back alley flea market. The man ignored him and continued to count bills. Wendell adjusted his dark-rimmed glasses, the left arm crudely taped in place with masking tape. "Hey mister, how much you want for this?" The bearded man, turned and despite his meerly average height had to look down at the 20 year old Wendell.

"I want...ehh...2.50."

"This thing looks like it's from the 60s. A new one costs that much at Wellmans."

"Then go to Wellmans. Kid."

Wendell scratched the considerable bridge of his nose. "It's a long walk to Wellmans," he smiled, "and the paint's coming off here and here."

"Fine. You can have it for a buck."

With that Wendell fumbled for his wallet to hand the man a dollar. After a sigh from the merchant, he stuffed the barrel of the toy in his front pocket to finally fish out the money. "Thanks mister."

"If you're done, beat it kid. I got other costumers."

Wendell nodded and left the man alone. Strolling past a half dozen or so other merchants lining the alley. Wendell was going to a campus Halloween party tonight. He wanted the gun for his costume, a retro spaceman. He thought he might get some attention from the fairer sex with an eye catching costume. As he rounded the alley's corner to get back out into the street and onto the sidewalk, he reflected on the earlier 4th of July party.

It had been a total disaster. He had gotten far too drunk and that prick Guy Hamm had pantsed him after the fireworks. Well, Guy wasn't actually that bad. He was a jockish frat boy and he teased Wendell for sure, but he did still invite Wendell to nearly every event.

A hand slapped Wendell's back catching him completely off guard. Wendell whipped around to see a tall, blonde man with a square jaw and a letterman jacket, Guy Hamm.

"What are you doing out here you queer?"

"Uhh...just out shopping Guy."

With a quick swipe of his hand guy snatched they toy gun from Wendell's pocket. "Wendell...do you still play with toys?"

"N-hey-I bought that from the flea market for my costume, ok?"

Guy examined the gun and held it up to his face like James Bond. "The flea market? You know those creeps steal half the stuff they sell. Costume? So that means you're coming tonight."

"Yeah, I'll be there."

Guy twirled the gun around his finger then presented it back to Wendell and slapped him on the shoulder after he took the toy from his hand. "Well right on. Maybe we'll get you laid this year?"

"And maybe you won't get laid this year?"

"Wendell, Halloween is supposd to be scary but that's a little over the line my friend." He laughed and followed up, "Anyway, I'll see you there. I gotta see a guy about a keg."

"Yeah, see you Guy."

It was always like that. Guy teased him and picked on him, but wasn't really mean, and seemed to genuinely like Wendell. Wendell watched Guy stroll down the road, and turned to head home himself.