Loose Cannon
by Paul Campbell © 2006
First published in Ragged Edge Publishing, the Ezine
KAA-BOOM!! The iron ball flew straight to its target of destruction. His hands were raw from the gun powder burns but he quickly began repacking the cannon. Being his first battle, he couldn't believe the destruction the cannon could make. He had heard stories, but now seeing it first hand it was amazing. He had gone over what his first battle would be like in his head, but it wasn't nearly as exhilarating as the actual thing.
As he fired the boom stick yet again, he heard the wooden wagon wheels scream in protest but they held fast. Bodies lay wounded and dying all over the battle field. The dead were the lucky ones, they wouldn't have to live another day in this hell. Death was the product of war and he was dealing it out wholesale today.
His uniform had been worn and tattered when he had first gotten it, now it was mere rags. It had caught fire several times from the flash of the powder. All this aside, he couldn't believe his luck today. He had expected heavy retaliation from the opposing side. They either had no heavy artillery or he had been fortunate enough to have taken it out with his first few shots. Sure there was the return of small arms fire, but none of it was even coming close. Either way, it was like shooting ducks in a barrel.
Repositioning the cannon, he raked his forearm across his face trying to clear his sight. The smoke from the powder bursts was starting to block his vision. He had to make every shot count. Manning the cannon was his duty and he couldn't allow himself to let anyone down, not even the enemy. They deserved the best fight he could give them.
He had lost count of how many shots he had actually fired since the beginning of the battle. Not that it mattered; he had plenty of supplies on hand. He had come prepared for this battle. He was actually beginning to run out of targets to aim at when there was a sudden turn of events. Somehow the enemy had flanked him and was now attacking him from the rear.
Once their attack had begun, they had ended the conflict in minutes. He wasn't able to turn the cannon around in time to hold them back. They had gotten too close too quickly. Before he realized what was happening, they had him pinned to the ground and unable to defend himself. As he prepared himself for a dose of the same death he had been serving, he felt metal cuffs lock around his wrists.
It had taken the cops over an hour to arrive on the scene. There had been a major power outage and serious looting. The entire force had been tied up at the mall which sat on the opposite side of town. Once they had finally showed up, it took them an additional hour to figure out how to tackle the situation. After all, it's not every day when you confront a man firing a cannon from the bay window of his forth floor apartment. He had leveled five adjacent houses, seven cars, and countless dollars in private property. Six people had been killed with twelve wounded.
As he was taken away in the back of the cruiser he began to laugh. The police officer which was riding in the passenger seat turned and asked what the laughter was about. The man replied by saying:
“My wife yelled at me for two weeks when I first brought that cannon home. It had been a real bear getting up the stairs to the apartment but I did it. She thought I was nuts when I started stock piling supplies as well. She had said it was total waste of money. I guess I showed her just how useful it could be.”
Arriving at the station, the cop ventured with one more question asking him why he had did what he had done. He just had to know. The man answered this question as well by saying:
“I've worked just as hard if not harder all my life as everyone else. I've never been able to afford a house or a new car. I figured why should they have those things when I wasn't able to myself.”