picture perfect

First Picture

My dad found a few antiques in our attic, which he wanted to auction off, so he went to a pawn shop, which was located downtown. He took me along with him and I was quite overjoyed, since I relished in going there and espied the magnificent stuff they have there.

When we entered the shop my dad looked around as he waited for someone to assist him, whilst I went my merry way through the shop to inspect the paraphernalia. Once in a while I would cease my miniature walk and stare or hearken to people, the buyers and the sellers, surrounding me. Often, I wished I had the money, so I could buy anything my heart desired, but dad told me that the stuff here is somewhat expensive.

Everything was encased by glass for safety. First, I stared at coins. Some were bigger than others or they were in a better state. There were different shapes or words encrypted on them.

Next to the coins there were swords, old-fashioned swords with various formed hilt. A few swords were broken or the hilt was damaged. Amongst the swords there were a few daggers scattered.

A big round man stood on the otherside of the case and asked me, "Do you want to hold one?" His hazel eyes twinkled with misschief in the bright light of the shop. I politely declined, since dad told me to do so if I wasn't with him.

At the end Ialways end up at the gun section. They looked fantastic and formidable; especially in the fluorescent light of the store and because heroes use them to save the world, at least in the movies. However, they aren't that amazing. They are terrifying.

I glimpsed at my dad to see where he was. Afterwards, I awkwardly stood at the gun area, stared at them. Wishing I could touch them for only one tiny moment. Even if I was scared of them, I wanted to feel its texture. Multiple thoughts later someone approached me and stood next to me.

Abruptly, a hand was thrusted in my sight of vision, attracting my attention.

"See, that one over there." I glanced at the boy with wavy brown hair next to me after I had assessed the gun his tiny tanned hand was pointing at and nodded warily.

"It is so," he said drawing out the 'o' with his hands, "huge."

"It is," I shyly mumbled. "But have you seen that one?" I continued, whilst pointing at a miniature gun on the left side of the wall, "It is so tiny."

He bobbed his head in agreement, smiling. Turning towards me he held out his small hand and introduced himself, "I'm Declan by the way." His brown eyes seemed to be happily dancing in to the beat of their own song beneath the light.

Slightly ashamed, I put my clammy pale hand in his and shook it. "Alan."

"It's nice to meet you," he exclaimed as he sauntered to a polished bench. I followed after him and we sat down together, still appraising the guns.

"You too," I said as an afterthought. For a while, nothing was spoken, which wasn't actually needed.

The shop was busy, people were negotiating and music was playing in the background. There was enough noise already reverberating through us, so there wasn't any need to add to it. We simply enjoyed each other's presence and observed the pistols.

"The guns are pretty cool, aren't they little men?" a voice next to us said, making us jump out of our seats. The laughter mixed with coughs, coming from besides us, ringed in my ears.

"No need to be scared, boys," a man older than my dad said, whose bald head with the occasional grey hair here and there glistened in the bright illumination of the shop.

"Do you want to touch them?" the man moved forward towards the guns.

"Can we?" Declan asked, excitedly. Before I could politely decline, even though I want to feel the texture of the gun against my palm.

"Certainly, they aren't loaded, so I don't see any reason why you can't," he replied happily, which made the corner of his eyes crinkle, as he took one of the smaller ones of the shelf and came back towards us.

"Who wants to hold it first?" His eyes went from Declan's to mine. Well, I can always tell my dad, that Declan asked for it.

Declan and I both jumped up and down saying "I". Coincidently, we ceased our jumping and stared each other down. Neither I nor he glanced away from the other. How this suddenly turned into a staring contest is beyond me!

"Boys, you can both hold it," the voices of the man made us snap out of our absurd trance. "Together," he emphasised sternly.

We put our hands out and the old man placed the pistol on it. It felt weird, heavy and terrifyingly cold. A shudder ran up my spine. I want to let it go.

"Can I?" Declan asked politely, motioning towards the gun.

"Yeah, sure," I answered and released the pistol. I was kind of happy to let him hold it, for I wasn't certain what to think about it. In the movies bad guys use guns too and their motives definitely aren't the safety of the people, they are simply bad. So a pistol can't only be used by the heroes.

And looking at a gun is completely different from holding it. It felt more real and potent in my tiny hands, which frankly freaked me out.

After a while Declan handed the pistol over to me and I grabbed it not so willingly, though I didn't want to look like a scared cat. Turning it in my hands I weighed it and examined it. It looked cooler on the shelf to be honest. In my hands it simply didn't seem to have the same appeal.

"Alan, what do you think you are doing?" my dad's voice echoed, scaring the shit out of me. As I looked up I noticed my dad speed-walking towards me, but the shiny-baldy man stopped him.

Alarmed, I pushed the gun into Declan's open hands, who raised his tick eyebrows at me, and worried over what my dad would say. However, when I assessed my dad's face again I detected the tension leaving. He seemed calmer and less troubled as the old man kept on talking. The wrinkles which manifest when he is worried were now gone. Another man was also standing next to them.

I felt Declan shuffle beside me. "That's my dad," Declan piped up, which I obviously already had figured, "next to your dad, right?"

"Yep." I nodded my head wildly in confirmation.

The men turned towards us and my dad was about to vocalise something, but Declan beat him to it.

"Dad, can we take a picture with the guns?" he entreated.

"We have to -," his dad spoke up, but Declan interrupted him. "Please dad," he whined as he clasped his hands in a pleading way.

"Okay, okay," his dad agreed, whilst my dad shrugged as he stood there with his arms crossed over his chest.

Declan's dad, who was towering over the both of us and my dad, grabbed his phone as Declan dragged me closer to the shelf with the guns after giving the pistol he was still holding back to the baldy man. We stood in front of the wall and Declan smiled perfectly, but I stood there uncomfortably. And click the first memorable picture was taken in a pawn show on October 21st 2006. That was the day we first met.