The Battery Thief - Short Story

Billy’s tall tale was the only tall thing about him. Standing more than 6 inches shorter then the already shortest girl in his class Billy was the smallest kid in town by a long shot. At 10 years old he looked more like he was 8, and he knew it because the other kids asked him all the time; “Why are you so small?”

“How the hell should I know?” was his response in the beginning, but in time he developed an answer, an answer that would give him his dignity back, an answer that would let him walk to and from school with his head held high.

“When I was born my bones didn’t grow. It’s a rare disease. My bones are two years younger then me.” In the first year or two of telling this untruth Billy knew it was a bold face lie, after that he began to believe that maybe it could be real, by the time he was 10 this bone disease with no name, that nobody but him had heard of, to Billy had become more factual than the sun rising in the east.

Being short did have its advantages though. Every Saturday a local electronics factory always had a few workers doing overtime. Since it was the weekend the regular staff was not around and neither was the regular security. When Billy was only 6 his older brother Scott had convinced little Billy to sneak in through a tiny gap between the high barbed wire fence and the building where he would go inside a shipping door and steal batteries. This heroic feat, which had been happening with regularity for three and a half year’s could only be achieved by someone small enough to fit through both the gap between the building and the fence and another escape hole where the fence doors were locked together.

It also paid to be quick, because although the shipping door was always open, and there was never a security guard, there was a dog, a dog who had been nicknamed Hitler. His name was given to him on account of him being a German Sheppard with a mean streak, and when Billy would leap from the shipping door, with his pockets full of batteries and sprint across the weed filled field toward the exit Hitler would bark and growl with such furor it was like the Second Reich all over again.

Most times Scott would be with a few of his older friends, who would stand by the fence where the doors were pad-locked together, the spot where Billy would escape through. Often Billy would scuff his forehead as he passed through the tiny opening between the two giant metal poles, but the mild headache caused by the tight squeeze was worth the reward of doling out batteries into empty and grateful hands.

“Good job little man, you’re alright.” They would say, Billy would smile, ear to ear, proud as punch.

Often the boys would taunt Hitler as the dog jumped at the fence spitting the venom of a thousand serpents at their cruel teenage teasing.

“Hey guys leave em be, he’s only doing his job.” Billy would say.

“Shut up squirt.” would be the reply, followed by a quick cuff to Billy’s shaggy and unkempt head of hair.

Maybe it was because he was their size or because Billy was the world’s best belly rub administer, but there was no denying it, on top of being known for his height, and for a kid who could always get batteries, Billy was known as the kid who loved dogs. Wherever Billy went dogs were drawn to him, many times more than one at a time would be vying for his attention.

“Come on Billy, enough with the dogs, get rid of them.” His father would often say, whether the family be at the beach, or in a park or catching a city bus downtown.

“Can we keep em Pop?” Billy would ask with always the same response.

“You know we can’t have a dog Billy, no pets allowed in the apartment building.

But Hitler was different, he was a trained, attack-dog and Billy knew it. Billy always ran with direct focus, straight to the opening in the gate where he would slide through as quickly as possible, never looking back to see how close Hitler was. The look in his brother’s face was always indication enough to let him know if he was close or not. Not once did Billy contemplate stopping for a quick pat, Hitler seemed disinterested in gentle correspondence.

It was a Saturday morning late in the spring of 1988 with a warm sun hanging in the tips of the poplar trees. Billy followed 10 strides behind the group of teenage boys as they walked through a forest equally thick with trees and bushes as it was with secrets and mystery. A stream trickled below a well sodden path that led to an industrial section where the electronics factory was. The stream was often filled with garbage, a reminder that nearby subdivisions and industries competed for what remained of pristine forest and farmland.

Once they got to the factory Scott told his kid brother; “We need lots of AA’s OK, get as much as you can.” Billy nodded and jogged off toward the tiny gap in the fence. He climbed up the shipping door like James Bond as Scott and his friends silently signaled with arms in a tossing motion for him to go inside. Billy began to fill his pockets with batteries, he grabbed handfuls of ‘AA’ and he searched for a few 9 volt, these were for himself, he needed them to fuel his mini arcade game of Q-BERT, which he played until late hours almost every night. It was his one true treasure, and he needed to keep the juice in it alive. It wasn’t really stealing; he had convinced himself, it was necessary.

Hitler let out a little warning bark as Billy could hear his claws begin to scatter across the hard polished factory floor. Billy turned from the open box of batteries and jumped down from the shipping gate, he sprinted across the dirt road while dust kicked up from behind his little churning legs and through the field that was green and filled with yellow dandelions from the spring rain. He knew he had plenty of time because as he arrived with his pockets full of batteries clinking in his red spring jacket and huffing for breath, the older boys weren’t even paying attention.

“Did you get ‘AA’s?” Billy nodded as he turned sideways and slid his left shoulder through the fence gap, it was always his head that was the tightest squeeze, but he could rest assure that although the rest of him he hoped was going to keep growing his noggin was as big as it was ever going to be. He got his head through and sucked in his gut to pull the rest of his body to freedom. Today it felt especially tight; Billy reached his clavicle bone and stopped.

“I’m stuck.” He said.

“No you’re not, come on push.” Said his brother while his friends watched Hitler leap from the shipping bay door and begin his sprint across the dirt road, barking with madness.

“Hurry up man, here comes Hitler.” Said one of the older boys.

Billy tried again, but it was his bones, the same bones he had told anyone who would listen were two years younger then him, they had finally grown, and now they were too big to fit through the gate. He tried again but no matter how much he sucked in his gut his collarbone wouldn’t fit through. He pulled himself out and tried to put his legs first, but again he got stuck at his shoulders. Hitler was getting close, Billy had less than 10 seconds before razor sharp German teeth (they don’t make em’ any sharper) would be sinking into his flesh.

Billy pushed his head through again, this time scrapping his forehead enough to draw blood and reached his hands to his brother who yanked at him so hard it caused Billy to scream and swear.

“AHHHHH, SHHHITTTTT.” Billy’s brother tried again then realized his kid brother was too big to fit; he shook the fence posts with all his might, his frustration would not break the gate. Billy was stuck with his head and hands on the outside of the fence while his torso and legs lay inside where Hitler would be able to have a field day on his helpless body.

Billy yelled to his brother; “Hey Scott, my bones must have grown, I’m getting bigger huh?” Billy smiled, while his eyebrows reflected his fear as the scuttle of rapidly moving paws drew nearer. Billy could sense if not see as Hitler zeroed in on his exposed, rump rear.

“Oh shit Billy who cares about that now, we gotta get you free.”

“I know. Just be honest, am I getting bigger?” Billy had resigned to the fact he was mince meat, but took solace in the idea of having grown. His eyes conveyed such desperation his older brother couldn’t resist but to answer the question, he nodded and said;

“Yeah little buddy, you’re growing up, that’s for sure.” Then he paused, fell to his knees, so his face was in front of Billy’s and said in the most tender voice a 14 year old boy in front of his peers could muster. “This may hurt a little bit, grit and bear it. We’ll go get help.”

Billy nodded; a tear ran down his cheek as he clenched his teeth and shut his eyes so tight it made his head ache.

“Oh shit man, Oh no.” yelled one of Scott’s friends as the dog leapt. Billy waited for the pain but it never came. With his eyes closed shut he wondered if it was too horrific for him to feel. Then he opened his eyes and saw something that only those that were there could believe. Hitler was now on the outside of the fence. After his remarkable jump, in a could of dust and weed, Hitler turned and charged before stopping just short of the cowering and shocked group of teenage boys that had once been taunting and teasing the dog. With a glint in his eye Hitler barked and growled while lurching forward with fangs glaring and saliva dripping. Scott and his friends were terrified as the dog pinned them up against the outside of the fence, they surrounded Billy’s head and arms that were still protruding through the gap. Suddenly Billy realized that the tables had turned, he was safe on the inside.

Scott looked at Billy quickly, “Go Billy, go now, run little buddy.” Billy did as he was told, and while he did Hitler stayed at the fence barking at the boys. As Billy passed the shipping door, the dog’s owner appeared wearing a navy blue uniform with a sewn on name patch above his heart; visibly upset he stood with hands on hips and watched as Billy ran like the wind past him.

“Sorry.” Billy yelled as he emptied his pockets tossing the stolen batteries toward the man. They scattered in the dust as Billy slithered through the gap between the fence and the building.

As Billy rounded the corner of the fence the man standing on the shipping gate whistled with both hands. As the screech pierced the morning air, Hitler stopped barking immediately and turned toward the man, his ears perked up and his teeth lay hidden by an inquisitive look. He motioned to the dog, which obeyed and began to trot toward the front of the building, leaving the older boys shaking and terrified. As Billy ran the opposite direction through the weeds outside the fence, he and Hitler crossed paths. Billy’s heart raced while Hitler paid him no attention. Hitler had spared him once already and again showed no aggression toward Billy. It was as if Hitler knew Billy was innocent and directed all his well trained aggression toward the real villains who now stood in the field, faces white as snow with piss in their pants.

Billy smiled as he galloped up to his brother and his friends. “How bout that.” He said. “You never know when you’re gonna grow huh?”

It was now Billy who walked a bit taller, who led the boys back toward the forest as the man on the shipping dock shook his head while a subtle grin appeared on his half shaven face. Hitler wiggled his body through the same thin gap Billy had escaped through and leapt up onto the shipping gate, disappearing into the factory. From that day on, Hitler was known as Bionic Hitler.

That was the last time Billy snuck into the electronics factory to steal batteries for his brother and his friends, and it was the first time he found out that dog’s didn’t care how big you were, whereas fences did.