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one of the top shelves. “You have to save pennies wherever you can, right?”
    Derrick kneeled in front of one of the cases. On the bottom shelf, a metal safe rested between several large jugs. The safe had a combination lock. He turned the knob, first to the right, then back to the left. The lock on the safe didn’t actually work; Derrick had to dismantle it a month ago when he forgot the combination.
    As Derrick played with the lock, Juan studied the walls, where various types of guns, rifles, and machineguns hung. Derrick took pride in that collection, although he couldn’t remember exactly where he obtained each individual weapon.
    Finally, Derrick finished fiddling with the combination. He pulled the door open and reached in with his right hand. He pulled out a packet of cash held together by a rubber band and tossed it over his shoulder at Juan, who caught it in one hand. He began counting, riffling through the bills with a calloused thumb and forefinger. “It seems short,” Juan said after a minute.
    “It’s the usual amount,” Derrick answered, his voice muffled as he slipped his hand back inside the safe.
    Juan tucked the money in the back pocket of his jeans. “I’m also collecting for your last order, which you didn’t pay for.”
    “Tell them I’ll have it next time.” Derrick swung the door shut and spun the knob.
    “Nope. I got to collect it today. No credit. No excuses.”
    Derrick glanced up. As expected, Juan’s gun pointed his way. He slowly stood up from his knees, letting out a sigh. “You’re young and enthusiastic. I can see you like to get right to the point.”
    The nonchalance caused Juan’s shoulders to slump. Good . “You know, they say we all have one defining moment that ends up determining who we are, who we associate with, and what path our lives end up taking. Do you remember yours?”
    “I don’t know, man,” Juan answered with confusion in his voice. “I just want the money you owe.”
    “I believe Bradbury named that philosophy after some sort of insect.” Derrick tilted his head up, examining one of the jars. “Would you like to hear the story of the moment that ended up defining my life?”
    “No. I just want to collect the money, and…”
    “I was about eleven years old and I have to say, up until that point, I had endured a lot of abuse from my peers, specifically one really big kid named Kenny. He was always pushing me around and then laughing at me. He even used to get other kids to laugh, too.”
    As Derrick told his story, he walked along the length of the bookcase keeping his back turned. Even with his back turned, he recognized the sound of a pistol’s safety unlatching.
    “The one thing that brought all of us kids together was baseball. There was a field in the neighborhood and we all spent our time after school there. Teams were chosen and I was always the last to be picked. Of course, once a team was stuck with me, the other team would laugh. Kids can be cruel, don’t you agree?”
    Derrick paused for a response. Juan didn’t offer one. How rude .
    “Kenny was always a team captain and a pitcher. I hated ending up on his team, but it was even worse when I was against him.” He wandered to the wall, stopped, and gazed up at the variety of weapons on display. “No matter how badly I wanted to hit a homerun off Kenny, I always struck out. I just couldn’t bring myself to swing that bat. Of course, he always laughed at me over it.”
    “Look, man,” Juan growled. “I just want to collect the money and go…”
    “So, there we were on that one particular afternoon,” Derrick continued. “Kenny was pitching. I’d already struck out my last two times at the plate and I even had a few errors in right field. That’s where I always ended up playing. I really hated that position. The bases were loaded, we were down by two runs, and it was the ninth inning. As I walked to the plate, one kid on my team said, ‘sometimes you just have to take