The Mission – An Original Short Story

I have a new short story for you today titled The Mission. This is a fun little piece that like my last story, She Looked Normal in Her Picture, was inspired by a true life event. As I built a bit of mystery and a twist or two into this tale, I’ll cut the introduction there and let you get on to my latest story.

We arrived at the location five minutes before 2:00. The temperature had already broken 100. But it wasn’t the heat that made us sweat that Friday afternoon. It was the mission we were on that caused our perspiration.

It might be more accurate to describe it as my perspiration. Jesse wasn’t sweating. He seemed as cool as could be – just like always. Nothing ever seemed to bother or scare him. I knew that wasn’t true, not today.

This mission frightened both of us. If it hadn’t he, would’ve gone alone rather than recruiting me to join him.

“You ready?” he asked.

“I think so,” I answered.

“It’ll be a piece of cake. We’ll grab ‘em and be in and out in two minutes,” he said in an obvious attempt to shore up my confidence.

Jesse and I’d been friends since the Third Grade. He knew I was a worrywart. He also knew that even though I’d agreed to the mission, I still might try to back out at the last minute.

“What if someone in there recognizes us?” I asked.

“We’ll take a look around first, just like we did when we scoped things out.”

That seemed simple enough. We could go in and out without anyone knowing our real intentions. We’d already made two reconnaissance trips to the site this week. We hadn’t seen anyone we knew and no one inside suspected our motives.

“All right,” I said. “Let’s get ‘em.”

I took two steps for the front door and froze.

“I can’t do it,” I said. From out of nowhere fear had risen up and wrapped its fingers around my throat.

“You’re not going in alone. I’m going to be right there with you.”

“What if they won’t sell them to us?”

“They’re not illegal.”

“I know. I just feel weird.”

“Well we could always steal ‘em.”

That suggestion instantly raised my level of anxiety.

“No. We could totally get busted,” I said.

“Then we have to buy them.”

I still wasn’t convinced we had to do this. Jesse put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

“We do it just like we planned. You pick ‘em up and I pay for them. We’ll be in and out in two minutes.”

I took a deep breath and finally said, “Okay.”

I moved for the door, gripped its handle, but couldn’t pull it open. I stopped and stepped back again.

“Oh come on,” Jesse said.

“I can’t do it,” I said, ready to completely abort the mission.

“Yes, you can. Come on. You know we need ‘em.”

“Do we?”

Jesse didn’t want to hear that, but we both knew there was truth in my question. He immediately moved to shut me down.

“Maybe not today, but we will sooner than you know,” he said. “And do you want be somewhere where you need them, but because you chickened out you don’t have them?”

“I’m not chickening out.” I stood a little taller as I spoke.

“Then let’s go in there and get them.” Jesse pulled the door open for me. His taunting had angered me, which he’d probably meant to do. The burst of adrenaline had given me the courage needed to complete the mission.

I stepped inside with Jesse right behind me. My fear immediately returned but there wasn’t any backing out now. The store seemed vacant except for the person working in the back by the counter. It was probably the Old Man we’d seen on our two recon trips.

We walked down the main aisle to check for civilians who might be inside. The place was empty. We circled back to the third aisle where the mission target awaited.

As I turned into the aisle my pace slowed. There wasn’t any reason to sneak up on the target, but the danger now became real. My heart had never beaten this fast before. I finally understood what people meant when they talked about their heart pounding through their chest. If I’d stopped abruptly mine might indeed have kept going without me and pushed out through my chest.

Then we were there. The target hung in midair on the shelves to the right, just as it had been on our recon visits. With a trembling hand I reached out and grabbed the target. I delicately slid it off its hook. Alarms didn’t sound. No one rushed into the aisle to apprehend us. I exhaled for what might’ve been the first time since we’d entered.

I looked down at the small square red box I held in my hand. I had them! And I’d stunned myself by actually taking them off the rack. For a brief moment I considered putting them back on the hook. Jesse must’ve sensed my desire to retreat.

“Take ‘em and put the on the counter and I’ll pay for them.”

I nodded my agreement, unable to speak. I walked even slower the rest of the way down the aisle back to the counter. We arrived but didn’t see the the Old Man who held down this position. He must’ve been in the adjacent room. I placed our mission’s target on the counter next to the cash register. Jesse pulled three one-dollar bills from his pocket. And we waited.

Sweat drenched my forehead. I could hear my pulse beating in my ears. I felt light headed. The wait was unbearable. It seemed to go on forever. It was killing me.

It must’ve been driving Jesse crazy too because he did something I never would’ve. He decided to hurry things up. He reached out and hit the bell on the counter with the palm of his hand. It gave off a high-pitched chime.

From behind the door I could hear footsteps moving in our direction. I took a deep gulp of air and held my breath as we waited for the Old Man. The door slowly opened, but the Old Man with the slicked back hair, black-rimmed glasses and white coat didn’t step through the doorway. No, it was a Pretty Woman with curly hair who was more or less my mom’s age. I couldn’t believe it.

“Hi boys,” she said to us as she approached the counter.

Her eyes went wide as she looked down and saw the red box containing three Trojan condoms awaiting purchase.

“Oh my God!” she said.

Jesse responded by smiling and putting the cash on the counter. I did everything I could to remain calm, which turned out to be nothing. Before I realized what was happening, I’d hurried half way back down the aisle where we’d grabbed the rubbers and then was out the door and back into the blazing heat.

A woman? Where’d she come from? We’d never seen her there before, just the Old Man. Where the hell was he? Had he died since we were last in there? Was he taking his lunch? This couldn’t be a coincidence. God didn’t want us to have the rubbers. That’s what it had to be. God was punishing us.

But we needed the rubbers. Didn’t God know that? I was entering the sexual prime of my life. I needed sex, but I couldn’t be getting any girls pregnant. My dad would kill me if I did that. Besides, even if I didn’t get a girl pregnant this wasn’t like the old days. A girl could give you AIDS. I was too young to have a baby or catch AIDS.

The door opened and Jesse stepped out. He held a small brown paper bag in his right hand and wore a look a grave disappointment on his face.

“You’re such a jerk,” he said.

“I know. I’m sorry. But I put them on the counter.”

“And left me in there by myself.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t expect a lady to come out. But you got ‘em.”

“Yeah, I got ‘em.” He held up the bag.

“Did she say anything?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said, letting it hang there for a few seconds before continuing. “She said, ‘Your friend flew out of here like a bat out of hell.’”

I had. I’d abandoned my best friend. I’d nearly blown our mission, but we’d been successful. There was our prize, resting in a brown paper bag that Jesse now held.

“But we did it,” I said. “We got the rubbers.”

“Yep. And when school starts on Tuesday, we’ll be ready.”

Or so we thought. But we’d soon learn that our steady diet of movies we’d watched on ON TV and HBO like Porky’s, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, and Risky Business raised our expectations a bit higher than they should’ve been.

Despite our success that day, we’d soon learn that the real mission was finding a girl who actually liked you enough to let you kiss her, let alone wanted you to use a rubber with her. That mission would prove more difficult and complicated than buying prophylactics at the local drug store that hot and sweaty Labor Day Weekend back in 1984.

But while we may have been the most eager and overly optimistic twelve-year-old boys to ever enter the Seventh Grade, we were also the most prepared.

The End

What did you think of The Mission? Could you relate to it at all? How could I have made it better?

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