Officer John Parker, just three weeks out of the academy stood in the middle of the Twin Pines Mall looking around puzzled about why he was here. Apparently something was going on or else he'd be back in the squad car with his partner; a twenty year veteran named LaRue. He looked over to ask LaRue just what the hell they were doing here at the mall but by the look on LaRue's face, he wouldn't give him much of an answer.
"Should we go back to the car?" Parker asked.
LaRue nodded slowly. "Yeah. I think we should. I think we are all in agreement here."
The other police that were called to the mall for some unknown reason all nodded. This was something they should just forget about because maybe they wouldn't want to remember it. It was clear that nothing was going on. People were walking around calmly; a woman and her daughter, a man with black socks and Bermuda shorts and a gaggle of teens talking about some wierd guy who tried to ask one of them out a few weeks back.
The police all turned and walked out of the mall.
"Come on Rook. Let's go out of here."
Parker nodded and adjusted his cap. He took a step forward and felt something hard under his foot. He picked his foot up and saw a ring underneath. It looked pretty expensive. He picked it up and examined it closely; it did look pretty expensive but who knew these days.
"Let's go Rook. I going off shift in a half hour."
"Coming LaRue," Parker said slipped the ring over his right ring finger. He didn't even think it might belong to someone who was actually looking for it. As far as he knew, the ring now belonged to him. He didn't notice the wierd warmth that spread through his body.
As they drove their unmarked car to the precinct downtown LaRue noticed something odd going on Murphy's bar. There was a man standing out front. He was leaning agianst the brick facade, his arms folded in front of him. The man's head was moving left and right with a regular cadence.
"He's a look-out," LaRue said as they passed by the bar and made the first right and parked on one of the side streets.
"Dispach, this is car 17. We have a possible 10-39 at Murphy's; 1017 North Grand."
"17. Roger. Possible 10-39. 1017 North Grand." the dispatcher said.
"Come on. Let's go," LaRue said to Parker and they got out of the car.
They went to the back of the bar. The heavy metal door was open, to allow ventilation for the cook who made bad hamburgers in the kitchen.
The kitchen was empty when they went in. Two hamburgers were on the dirty grill. They were already well done on the verge of bursting in flames. Two buns topped with lettuce and tomato was ready to have the burger added to it.
LaRue held out his hand to Parker signaling for him to stay here in the kitchen. Parker nodded and stopped. He did, however, unsnap the leather clasp that held his .9mm.
LaRue slowly opened the kitchen door that opened up to the bar. He peered in and unsnapped his own holster. He put his hand on the butt of his gun and slowly pulled out his own 9mm. Then he burst open the door and yelled "FREEZE!"
The door closed behind him and the second the door closed, a bullet hole appeared in the kitchen door. Parker could feel the bullet whiz past his ear. Then there was another shot and he heard a heavy thud.
Parker pulled out his gun and ran through the door. The first thing he saw was LaRue on the floor; a bullet hole in his chest. The next thing he saw was a man in a ski mask pointing a gun at him. Parker raised his gun and yelled "FREEZE!" As he yelled it the robber fired his gun. Parker saw the muzzle flash and waited for the bullet to hit him but he felt nothing. Just when he was about to fire himself, he noticed something something odd...
No one was moving.
The robber was frozen in a marksman's stance. His legs were spread, his gun was gripped firmly in both hands. His partner who was the lookout was just coming through the front door. The bartender was behind the bar. In one hand was a stack of bills, a horrified expression on his face.
Then there was the bullet. It was suspended in mid air; a .357 bullet, a 200 mph mini missle that would have scrambled his brains right out of the back of his head. But there, it was just a harmless chunk of lead. Parker reached up and plucked it out of the air. He looked at the bullet with a mixture of fear and relief and looked around at the room, wondering just what the hell was going on.
Parker look at the ring on his right hand. A thought went through his head (feeling lucky he was having thoughts at all going through his head). It was a voice that was not his own but it didn't matter, it made perfect sense. It's a wish ring. Make a wish.
Parker went over to the robber. He took off the ski mask and saw a man about thirty with a dirty beard and crazy eyes. He had a wish for him.
"You're a cat," he said.
After a few seconds something remarkable happened; the robber began to transform. Hairs began to creep out from his pores. Short, grey hairs emerged from his skin, covering his face. His nose flattened and turned black as his eyes turned green. His iris went from round to kind of a diamond shape.
He let go of the gun because his fur covered hands were shrinking. Parker took it away and placed it on the bar. He watched with amazement at the robber's body started to move slowly to the floor of the bar, shrinking in his clothes. His head got smaller and smaller as it vanished into his t shirt.
Parker moved aside his clothes and saw a tom curled up in a ball on the barroom floor. He couldn't believe it: the man had turned into a cat. This was something out of some cartoon or an episode of "Charmed". It made him look at the ring and at what had happened around him.
It was time to clean this up.
A squad car arrived. Parker and LaRue stood outside the bar talking about the Yankees chances in the World Series.
"What's up guys?" the cop in the squad car asked.
"Nothing. Just a false alarm," Parker told them. As he spoke, two cats came out of the bar. One rubbed against LaRue's pant leg and then both of them went down the ally.
"Nothing at all."