Cowboy Girl Annie Read Free

be here when the gun's owner shows back up. What
would happen when a thug sees you holding his gun box?
    Her inner voice warned, You would be
a dead duck. That's what!
    Annie opened the dumpster lid and
lowered the box inside just as gently as she imagined the owner had
done it. She ought to try and put the box in about the same spot
she picked it up from so no one would know she handled the
box.
    Besides, she was smart enough to be
afraid to drop the box. What if the gun was loaded, and the jolt
made it go off. Wouldn't that be an awful thing to
happen?
    Shots fired were common place in
this part of town. Employees would peek out a crack in the side
doors of both the hotel and barbecue diner to see who shot who.
Probably call the cops to get help coming before they even got up
enough nerve to check the alley.
    She could run away before the police
got there, but she stuck out like a sore thumb in most eye
witnesses memories with her western gear on. Anyone who saw her
would remember the way she was dressed well enough to describe her
to the cops. She was easier than most of the homeless people to
describe on the spur of the moment.
    Almost every cop in town had watched
her push her cart along the sidewalks, in the park and alleys. They
would scour the streets for her until they caught up with
her.
    Looking different than most homeless
people never bothered Cowboy Girl Annie before, but it would really
bother her if someone reported that she shot a gun in the alley and
got her in hot water with the cops.
    As Annie closed the dumpster lid a
series of loud coos startled her. She flinched and swallowed hard
as she came out of her pondering. Looking up, she studied the hotel
roof where the noises came from.
    She let go with a gusty sigh when
she realized she wasn't in danger. Not yet anyway! A dozen gray and
white pigeons strutted back and forth, peeking over the edge of the
roof to stare at her.
    Quickly, Annie took another glance
around to make sure the coast was clear. It was. So she changed her
mind again. Annie opened up the dumpster and lifted out the box.
She set it down beside the shopping cart on the hard alley
dirt.
    Annie rummaged to the bottom of her
shopping cart under the tradeable contents, stacking everything
into a heaped pile on the front end.
    She straightened up with a large,
scuffed up, off white jewelry box in both hands. She always kept
the box at the bottom of the cart. That's where she could hide the
gun. That jewelry box was one item she didn't intend to get rid of
ever. It was her personal treasure.
    Annie tenderly opened the jewelry
box's lid. A small ballerina in a pink tutu bounced upright on a
small stage and twirled slowly around to the tinny, tinkling tune
You Light Up My Life.
    Annie tried every which angle she
could come up with to lay the gun on the jewelry box bottom. She
couldn't find a way. The gun just wouldn’t fit, because the
ballerina’s stage was in the way.
    As much as Annie hated the thought,
the dancer would have to go. She felt guilty about even thinking
such a thing. The thought almost made her feel as maudlin as the
death of a close relative.
    Many a time when she was lonely and
down, she huddled under her cardboard shelter with that jewelry box
beside her on her olive green, wool Army Surplus
blanket.
    She'd open the lid and squint in the
dark, trying to watch the ballerina dance. That little dancer and
the music always cheered her up.
    Annie wrestled with herself about
whether to rip out the ballerina or not. It would be like getting
rid of an old friend that had been good company. She didn't have
very many friends. She could count on one hand the live friends she
appreciated knowing.
    Her eyes filled with tears when she
thought about the loss of that sweet music. She'd miss the comfort
of listening to You Light Up My Life.
    Annie's imagination had always
allowed her to pretend she was at a stage production of ballerinas.
That ship sailed a long time ago. Her being able to go