Robbed in the hood

Originally written around 2007 - this was a contest entry. There's a bit of strong language in this one specifically the "a" word. Just FYI -

Perhaps it was the heady thought of Guiness chilling in the refrigerator at home. Perhaps it was the wafting aroma of green chile carried on the evening air. Perhaps I was exhausted after a week in corporate hell. Whatever the reason, my usual diligence failed me as I slipped from the protective circle of light in the parking lot and into the unknown.
I'll just swing into the first available space and sprint into the store. Seemed like a logical concept in my tiny villa - only a few blocks away from my house. I'll only be a moment.
Lost in my reverie of a worry free weekend, I sauntered across the parking lot, never noticing the three figures lurking only a few steps from my car. In a rush of sneakered footsteps and a flurry of arms I suddenly found myself sprawled face down on the pavement - my molesters receding into the darkness with my purse and my pride in tow.
"You sorry sonsa..." In an adrenalin induced panic I sprang to my feet, my head snapping right and then left as I scanned the parking lot. Then the nausea hit me. All my unfinished ideas were in that notebook. What was I thinking, taking my bag into the store? Hot tears welled unbidden in my eyes and I brushed them off angrily. Thank God I wasn't stupid enough to toss my keys in my purse.
"Excuse me Ma'am. Are you ok?"
"Don't even think about touching me. You have no idea who you're messing with." The sentence spilled from my lips before I could stop it as I spun around, keys brandished in my fist, prepared to pummel the living crap out of who ever just called me 'ma'am.'
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." The young man stared intently at me, his jade eyes flickering as they reflected the parking lot lights. He reached out his hand in greeting.
"Don't think so, Son. I'm only stupid once." I shook my keyed fist at him with all the venom my quivering flesh could muster after face planting in the parking lot.
"Well, I just saw what happened. I can help you. Do you need me to call some one? Your knee, well it looks pretty messed up." He let his hand fall to his side.
"I'm fine." I spat, jaws clenched. I took a breath and looked down at my kneecaps. Maybe he noticed they were shaking so violently they were slamming together. A trickle of bright red blood wound its way from my knee to my ankle, and an angry patch of rashy flesh covered the top of my foot. "Well, I'm fine except for missing a shoe."
"Its over there." He pointed a few feet away. "I really want to help you." He stepped toward me.
"You know what? I'm fine. I'm just gonna get in my car and drive home to my husband who is expecting me any time, and knows exactly where I am right now. So, thanks but no thanks." I straightened my frame and stomped backwards toward my car with all the force and authority I could muster as the young man continued to watch me intently. I threw myself into the drivers seat, slamming on the door lock mechanism, and revved the engine as I turned my lights on. Then I shot my most venomous look at the young stranger still standing in the parking lot. The slightest hint of a smile played at the corners of his mouth as he raised one eyebrow and held a finger to his lips. He then bowed deeply and sprinted off in the direction of my attackers, his oversized green hoodie billowing behind him like a cape. Jerk! I bit my lip and threw the car into reverse, hearing a dull clunk as my back tire rolled over the shoe I'd neglected to retrieve. Stupid shoes. Stupid purse. I'm such an idiot.
I held back the tears until I was safely nestled in my familiar spot on the couch, chilled Guinness in hand. Then the sobs came as I recounted the events for my husband and children.
"Did you kick him in the ass, mom?" my younger boy piped up.
"Don't say ass. And no I didn't." I took a gulp of foamy stout.
"So what did this kid look like? Maybe I will run into him at school tomorrow." My hulking teen smacked his beefy fist against his palm in a threatening motion.
"Um yeah. Four against one. I don't know. He looked kinda like Robin Hood. You know, mysterious eyes, quiet demeanor and a great big cape like sweat jacket. Forest green."
"Sure, mom. Robin Hood swipes your purse in the parking lot. Mom, robbed in the hood!" The conversation dissolved into giggling as someone suddenly knocked hard on the front door.
"Who is that at this late hour."
"Maybe its Robin the Hood." My younger boy pulled his knees up under his chin and rolled on the floor as he laughed.
"Don't laugh at your mother. Honey, I told you you shouldn't carry your whole life around in that giant bag lady thing." My husband pursed his lips and sighed.
"Yeah, well my life is over now, huh. Get up and see who it was, Son."
"Dang mom, we're just joking." My older son uncurled himself from beside me on the couch and walked the few steps to the front door. He opened it wide and peered out into darkness. "No one's here, Mom. Hey is this stuff yours?" He turned to face me, my stolen purse dangling from one finger as he clutched a pair of new shoes in the other.
"My purse." I snatched the bag away from my child. Rifling through it, I found everything in place, money, credit cards and my precious notebook. A page fluttered out of the notebook as I flipped through it. It came to rest on the floor.
"What's that, a love note? Dear, ma'am - here's your purse. You'll find all is in order. I hope the shoes are to your liking. Best regards....Robin..."
"Gimme that!" I snatched the note away from my younger boy. Robin? Suddenly the image of a jade eyed, green clad young man flooded my memory. I smiled as I stared out my open front door into the darkened night. Thank you Robin. Where ever you are.
TL Boehm