Cowboy Girl Annie Read Free Page A

to a stage
show was something she knew was never going to happen with her
circumstances what they were.
    At that moment, Annie decided she
best grow a new backbone and be practical. She realized she had to
think about herself and her needs. The gun was a trade or sell item
worth considerable money. Enough to eat well for several weeks in
the Maid Rite Diner on the corner of Elm and Maple Streets if she
stretched the money out.
    As long as she paid cash, the diner
owner had always been kind enough to let her eat in a back booth.
Her stomach full for a few weeks was surely more important than a
ballerina dancing to music in a fancy jewelry box. Wasn't
it?
    Annie's lips flattened together in a
grim line as she wrapped her fingers around the frail figure in the
net skirt. She ripped out the stage the ballerina set on and the
small, gold, metal music box attached underneath.
    The ballerina continued to twirl to
the music when Annie set her gently down on an old army flack coat
she'd wadded up in the corner of the cart.
    Now that the space in bottom of the
jewelry box was opened up, she placed the gun on the dingy, pink
velvet lining. She was relieved to see the gun laid flat now. She'd
have really hated how she wrecked her jewelry box if that gun
wasn't meant to fit in it.
    Gently, Annie placed the ballerina
on the ground. With another look both directions in the alley,
Annie set the jewelry box back on the bottom of the cart and spread
all the other items over it to cover it up.
    She picked the dancing ballerina up
and opened the dumpster lid to toss her into the barbecued swill.
Her hand froze in mid air. She just couldn't do such an awful act
to that clean ballerina that had given her so much comfort when she
was lonely and blue.
    So Annie walked over to the clean
trash dumpster, opened the lid and placed the performer down on the
flat side of a gallon milk jug. Now the dancer could finish this
one last dance.
    “ Take it easy, my little friend. If
this morning works out right, I just might be back after you. Don't
give up hope yet. Maybe I'll see you later, ya hear,” Annie
whispered as she lowered the dumpster lid.
    Without looking back, Annie pushed
her shopping cart out of the alley as she listened to the song fade
away with distance.
    She pictured her ballerina
eventually winding to a stop as the battery died. Her lips
trembled. She surely would miss that ballerina. She had only
herself to blame if this fool notion didn't work.
    Walking away was like leaving a
faithful friend to die unattended. She ought to know about such
things, after all. She'd lost count of all the friends she'd sat
with in an alley or the shelter house in the park until they took
their last breath.
    Mostly, she was on death vigil in
the winter time when everyone, down on their luck, caught head
colds. In their run down conditions and exposed to the winter
elements because they didn't have the nice cardboard boxes like the
one she slept in, the colds turned into pneumonia.
    Dang! She surely did get sidetracked
easily. She still hadn't found any food, and not much chance of
finding scraps until later this evening now. As long as she'd
fooled around in that alley, she was bound to be out of luck for
lunch. The other rummagers were sure to have checked all the good
dumpsters by now.
     

Chapter 4
     
    As Annie headed toward the shops on
Main Street, she had no doubt she'd better get rid of that gun
fast. Maybe she'd be lucky enough to sell it before word got out
about whatever despicable thing it had done in some desperado's
hands.
    If this worked out all right, she
might have time to hustle back after her ballerina and put the old
gal back in the jewelry box.
    When the bell tinkled over the pawn
shop door, the owner was cleaning a show case glass. The case was
full of watches and clocks. Making a final swipe with a drying rag,
he didn’t bother to look up before he spoke, “What can I do for you
today?”
    Annie didn't answer. The pudgy,
balding guy