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Chapter 2 of “Iron”
A Dinosaur, a Victor and a Thief

I was good once. At least eighteen years ago, that is. My life of crime started thirteen years ago when I was five and I haven’t turned back since. Back then, life in Grey City was simpler. Back then, the Guards were still human and virtuous and people of Grey City had a sense of direction in life. Also, back then, I was the loved-by-all Marcel Julius, son and heir to the Julius name.

Eighteen years ago last month I was born Marcel Julius the Fourth to my parents Marina and Marcel Julius the Third in North Grey City Hospital. My mother, Marina, was the first woman head Guard for North Grey City’s Guard precinct while my father, Marcel, was an just an average Guard that worked in East Grey City’s most prominent industrial district. When they met at an annual Guard conference in North Grey City, it was, as my father would often put it years later in and old cliché, love at first sight. From a distance, my father Marcel spotted my mother Marina chatting with the other head Guards of South, East, and West Grey City at a conference table on the other side of the room. Too nervous to go over to my mother, Marcel the Third merely waited until the conference was over to actually have a conversation with the first woman Guard of North City. Throughout the conference, he stole furtive glances at her from across the room. His eyes would occasionally drift from the hologram projection screen in front of the room and look at Marina who was taking notes on the information given. Little did he know that, as she was taking notes, Marina had been noticing these quick glances and had fallen in love with him, too.

When the conference ended a few hours later and the other Guards had already gone home to their families, my father remained standing on the steps of the North Grey City Guard headquarters, waiting to catch my future mother stepping out from the building after a short conversation with the other head Guards. Although his palms were sweaty and his heart was racing, he felt an overwhelming sense of inner serenity in the cool Grey City evening. With the stars overhead as some holy providence, he leaned against a pillar and kept his eyes focused on the sliding door of the Guard HQ. He didn’t have to wait long. Minutes later, my mother, Marina, came walking out of the headquarters in her sleek, black Guard uniform carrying leftover pamphlets about various combat techniques and other Guard information. Her hair, jet black as the surrounding night, and her eyes, a deep warm brown, entranced my father and caused him to speak up so suddenly that it seemed loud to my future mother.

“Er…hello, Miss head Guard of North Grey City,” Marcel the Third said loudly in an anxious tone. His loud voice had made Marina jump and drop all of her pamphlets. Embarrassed, Marcel quickly ran over and scooped up the pamphlets, some falling through his arms as he handed them to Marina. “I’m sorry, Miss…” He said in a quieter and softer tone. He stepped back a few inches to give Marina her space as she quickly fumbled with the pamphlets to get them in order and facing one direction.

Marina gave him a weak smile. “No, no, it’s okay,” She said briskly. “I’m sort of a nervous person, so I get scared easily,” She giggled a little. “It’s not the first time someone has scared me as I exited a building. One time a robber decided to escape from the Bank of North with money in both hands. In a flash of anxiety and a mix of subconscious policing, I jumped on him and pinned him down. I don’t know how I did it but I did,” She stopped talking as if she had remembered something important. “Oh, where are my manners,” She said with another giggle. With her free hand and a kind smile, she offered Marcel the Third a handshake. “I’m Marina Allswell from the North Grey City Guard,”

My father, already on cloud nine from just meeting my mother, reached for her hand and shook it slowly. “I’m…um…Marcel Julius from East Grey City’s industrial…sector,” He replied in an embarrassed tone. Working in the industrial sector, as many Guards back then would agree, was the lowest position a Guard could work. The pay was low, the hours were long, and there was absolutely nothing to do except watch the manufacturing of countless androids. He had decided to tell my mother his real occupation because he knew that she was going to find out sooner or later. Fortunately for Marcel the Third, Marina had no real preference towards any particular Guard job.

“Oh really?” She said, immediately full of interest. Marina’s eyes glimmered in the moonlight, making Marcel nervous and, as a result, stammer. His inner serenity resulting from the calm evening had diminished as soon as she looked at him lovingly with her deep brown eyes. The eyes of angels, thought my father. If only they were mine. I must have her.

“Yep,” He said proudly. Then the sudden burst of pride disappeared and he became his old nervous self. “M-miss Marina,” Began my father. Although he seemed nervous, it was taking a great amount of courage just for him to even speak. “I know you’re busy being head guard of North Grey City and all, but would you do me the honor of going out to dinner sometime?”

My mother silently looked over my father. She started from his black hair buzz cut to his tanned skin and brown eyes, past his black Guard uniform and down to his black leather shoes. Perfect, she thought. Giving my father a sly smile, she said, “I guess we could go out sometime. I know this cool place in South Grey City that we could go to,” She winked. “Just you and me, Marcel, after work of course,”

Marcel Julius felt hot. His heart began to race and he could barely keep himself standing. He swallowed hard and tried to ignore his primal urges. He had to stay in formal character despite the beautiful woman standing in front of him as she was bathed in the moonlight. She was a goddess to him; a wonderful maiden dressed in Guard clothing.

Marina smiled as she looked Marcel the Third in the eyes. “So, is this a yes?” She asked innocently. “Or are you going to stay here and watch me pass by?”

My father awoke from his thoughts to answer. “Y-yeah,” He said. “Let’s meet up next week. I’m off that week and the weather’s going to be nice,” As he clung those last words, he waited for Marina to reply.

“Of course,” My mother said with another smile. “I guess I’ll be waiting for you call then, Mr. Julius,” She made her way down the steps and began her walk home.

That’s a woman, Marcel Julius thought. Strong, kind, and attractive. All the things a man could possibly want. If we had a kid he would be the best Guard Grey City will ever see.

Two years later after that fateful night, I was born. Like my father, I was bred to be a part of the Grey City Guard. Growing up my father took me to Junior Guard seminars for children of Guard parents to get me attracted to protecting and serving the people of Grey City. He believed in his heart that I would be the best Guard Grey City had ever seen.

“I think you can fly up the ranks,” My father frequently told me when I was younger. “You have the mental and physical abilities of a legendary Guard. You have the strength of me and the mental strategizing of your mother. Keep it up, son, and you’ll be the best,” I didn’t realize it back then, but what my father had said about my abilities was actually true. I had the build of a future Guard even as a kid. I inherited the physical strength from my father and a knack for solving tough problems from my mother. Unfortunately, early in life I had decided used those inherent talents for bad instead of good. My first chance came at the age of five.

My first and most likely the most life-changing display of thievery occurred when my mother and father took me to Grey City’s History Museum. The sprawling museum was Grey City’s finest monument. Built from the finest white limestone outside of Grey City, it was also one of the City’s last edifices that had survived the metallic revolution in which every new building in Grey City had only metallic or semi-metallic bases and structural materials. Built over one hundred years before, it was still in good shape. Its high ceilings and marvelous pillars made the museum resemble the Parthenon. As you stepped inside past the old-fashioned turn styles of the last century, you would soon come to appreciate the beauty of Grey City’s History Museum and why it was a fine achievement from one hundred years ago. The roof, high up in the air, was made completely of glass so any visitor to the museum could look up into the heavens and wonder about his or her place in life. In the morning, however, the sun’s rays would shine into the museum and bathe its exhibits in a celestial light. In the middle of the museum was a large fountain filled with local small fish. It was an aesthetic choice by the designer. To the left of the entrance was a small museum souvenir shop, filled with little trinkets and replicas of the dinosaurs and cars from long ago. This place is where I did my first act of thieving.

After a long afternoon of going through winding exhibits and hour-long educational movies about whatever, my parents decided to take me to the souvenir shop beside the entrance/exit to the museum. My mother waited outside as my father and I entered the small shop. Toy planes hung swaying from the ceilings as the air vents above them blew. Stuffed replicas of dinosaurs and other extinct animals filled the shelves around us. In the back section of the room was a shelf that had model kits for that busy child that wanted to make his own dinosaur, plane, or model car.

“You can have one thing, Marcel. Only one. You know how your mother is about discarded toys lying around the house,” My father said absently as he looked around. He, himself, was interested in the commodities that the museum souvenir shop sold. He picked up a toy tiger, examined it, and placed it back down in its spot. “Tigers,” He smiled. “Nobody’s seen a tiger on this planet for at least fifty years,” Chuckling, he strolled down the isle, made a right turn into the adjacent one, and passed out of sight.

Now that I was alone, the next objective I had was to choose a toy. My eyes scanned each and every aisle and sorted the possible choices from the obviously unwanted ones. Planes, dinosaurs, cars, or mammals? I thought to myself. So difficult to choose.

At that moment, an idea struck my childhood self. Why not take a few? Nobody’s going to buy them anyway. They’re kid’s toys, not adult ones. The idea sounded convincing enough, despite my nagging conscience. Remember your parents. It sung from my inner core. They’re Guards and they believe in virtue. Unlike them, I believed in material goods. Back then, I had already known that virtue and integrity did not let my play dinosaurs with the other boys on the playground. All of that stuff was for the birds. I had decided against my better judgement to take a few toys. Of course, I’d buy the big one that I wanted and sneak the smaller ones out of the store in my pocket.

The first thing that I had to do was to look around and see if there could be any witnesses to my insidious crime. As I stepped down the aisle and looked out, to my left near the model toys was a young boy about my age with black spiky hair with one of the cashiers helping him grab a model car from the top shelf.

“Is this the one?” I heard the female cashier say. She stood on her tiptoes and strained to reach almost unattainable model car. I stood watching her attempt to grab the model. She grunted as she leaned forward on the shelf below.

The spiky haired boy looked up innocently and nodded. “Yep. That’s the one. It’s for my sister. She likes cars,”
“I…almost…have it,” She said as her fingers touched the box. As if detesting the contact from the cashier, the box slid back as she attempted to pull it forward. The cashier groaned and began to try her luck again. At that very moment, I noticed the little boy below her doing something odd. His hands, quick and deft, were quickly shoving little action figures into his pockets. He’s stealing. I thought to myself. And he stole my plan. Irritated but impressed by the boy’s own skills, I remained watching this interesting display of thievery until the cashier finally reached far enough to pull down the model toy. It landed with a clunk on the floor. The boy with the spiny hair stopped raking the figures into his pockets and gave the heroic cashier a smile. She picked up the toy and handed him the box, not even looking at his unusually bulging pockets.

“Thank you,” The boy said as he gave her the fake smile. “My sister would love this,” He used his free hand to pat down the pointed part of one of the dinosaur tails in his pocket. It was a futile attempt. After he seemed to pat it down, the rogue stuck back up again.
The cashier was oblivious. She grabbed the box from the boy, unaware that he had more than just lint in his pockets. “Let me scan this for you, okay? Then you can be on your way,” The boy continued to smile as she left. She turned and came down my aisle. She looked down at me asked, “Do you need anything, young man?”

I shook my head and gave her a cute childlike grin, dimples and all. “No. I know what looking for. Thank you, miss,” Politeness was one of my advantages. It fooled the adults every time. It was great being intelligent at five. All the adults around you thought that you were the sweetest little thing that ever graced their miserable lives.

She patted my head. “Okay, son, just tell me if you need something,” She sped by with the model car and made her way towards the register at the front of the shop.

After she left I quickly made my way out from the corner of the aisle and over to the boy. At the moment he was pulling the dinosaurs out from his pocket and examining them for damage after he had to quickly shove them into his pocket. He gave a quick look at me and returned to his examination.

Holding one up to the ceiling light, he bluntly asked, “What do you want?” I was surprised at his blunt manner. He didn’t even say hi like normal kids. No ‘hi, I’m Stacy’ or ‘Hello, I’m Maurice. Want to play?’. As I stood in surprise at his bluntness, the spiky haired boy’s brown eyes merely stayed focused on the stegosaurus in his hand. Extending the curled plastic tail of the dinosaur, he continued by saying, “Are you going to speak or what?”

I pointed a finger at him. “You’re stealing those dinosaurs!” I blurted.

He continued to examine the toy dinosaur as if I weren’t there. Shaking off my accusation, he said, “So?”

“So, that was my idea!”

He slowly slipped the stegosaurus into his pocket and pulled out a Tyrannosaurus Rex. “And?” He asked absently. It seemed as though he thought I was annoying. “Nobody said I couldn’t do it without your permission,” He flipped the dinosaur over and ran his finger along the tan stomach. “Smooth,” He said in a childlike awe. Minutes later after he had realized that I wasn’t going anywhere, the spiky haired boy set the dinosaur down on the shelf and looked at me with his deep brown eyes.

“What?” He said with a frown. He moved his arm around the T. Rex as if it were his child. “It’s mine and you can’t have it,”

“I need you to help me get one of those dinos. Are you going to help me?” I replied. His annoying personality was getting on my nerves. I could have tackled him and grabbed his toys and ran off. Instead, I wanted my own.

He examined me slowly. Still frowning, he said, “You don’t look like a thief. You look like a son of a Guard,” I winced at this comment because I actually did. If I were thirteen years older I could have been mistaken for a Guard or at least a mascot for them. My whole outfit was practically an outward show of approval of the Grey City Guard. My black shirt had stitched in the center with gray lettering ‘Grey City Guard. Bathed in honor’: a clear supporter of the Guard. My black pants were even Guard-like. On the back pockets were small crests that were symbols of the Guard. Folding my arms to cover this display on my shirt, I asked him again.

“Are you gonna help me or what?” I was getting irritated with this boy. I could have left but his skills at stealing were what kept me near him. I waited for his answer.

“Sure,” He said with a sigh. Looking around, he added, “We have to act fast, though. That cashier will be done scanning the price of that model any minute. By the way,” He put stolen T. Rex into his pocket. Seconds later the tail bulged again from the side of his pants. “What’s your name, kid?”

I glared at him. I didn’t like to be called ‘kid’ by someone no older than I was. But I knew that in order to get what I wanted I would need his help. “Marcel,” I said. “Marcel Julius,” I waited for his reply. After he continued to look at me, I asked, “Who are you?”

“Victor,” He answered. “That’s all you need to know,” He laughed a little. “That and I don’t really have a sister,” I laughed in response to his joke. His face immediately turned serious. “Okay,” He said. “What toy do you want? I can get any one of them, trust me,”

I looked around. I soon spotted a small toy dinosaur on the shelf in the aisle in front of the cashier’s workplace. Its head was like a shield with three horns jutting out from it. I had never seen it before and it seemed like an interesting target. Extinct or not, I still wanted it.

I pointed to the dinosaur. “That dinosaur over in front of the cashier’s desk. Let’s see you get that,” Smiling with triumph, I turned to Victor. To my dismay, he wasn’t even looking at my smile. He was looking at the ground. He then closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.

“What are you doing?” I asked impatiently. “You’re supposed to be helping me get that stegosaurus,”

“It’s not a stegosaurus,” He corrected me. “It’s a triceratops. And I am helping you. I’m thinking of a plan. Just give me a second,” He continued to breathe in and out, his eyes clothes and his face relaxed. Minutes later he opened his eyes. “That’s it,” he said. “I got it. It’s a simple plan. By now that lady must have scanned the model car for my ‘sister’ and must be waiting for me to go up to the register and get it. I just need to tell her that my sister actually likes model dinosaurs. I lead her to the back of the shop and then you grab the toy and make off with it,” Victor smiled at its simplicity. “Well, let’s do it,”

I frowned. “It’s that easy?” I was expecting a daring mission that had to deal with scaring the cashier and knocking her out with a brick of white limestone in some way. Unfortunately, Victor disappointed me with such a simple plan.

Victor nodded, putting the stolen Tyrannosaurus Rex into his pocket. “It’s just that easy. Just wait until she leaves,” He passed me and made his way down the aisle I was previously stationed in and turned towards the cash register. From the back of the shop I could hear Victor persuading the young cashier to come back to shelf with the models.

“Yes, but my I just remembered that my sister wanted…” I heard him say in an innocent and whimpering voice. A classic kid maneuver. Using the teary child voice to sway the innocent adults. Remembering the plan, I quickly sneaked into the aisle and waited for them both to leave. Come on, Victor. I thought. You just have to move her away.

Peering around the shelf, I could see Victor rubbing his eyes like he was about to cry. He began to sniffle and take deep shallow breaths. His little body began to shake, scaring the young woman. Panicking, the cashier quickly led Victor to the back of the shop again. Jackpot. I thought. And then: He is good. He’s better than I am. I frowned. It was impossible. Although my skills were untested as of now, I still thought of myself as better that that kid. His technique seemed sub-par and straight out of a movie. As I stood there critiquing Victor’s theatrics, I had almost forgotten the plan. The stego-whatever-tops-thing. I thought. How could I forget?

After Victor and the cashier were out of sight, I slowly crept around the other side of the aisle. Unfortunately, my father was on the other side with his back turned. He was looking up at a replica of a 200-year-old jet fighter. “Interesting,” He mumbled. “How did people ever use those? Compared to now, they were quite slow,” After a minute of deep thinking, he shrugged and walked off down the aisle.

A few feet from where I was, I spotted the dinosaur. Its olive-colored plastic skin and its long pointed horns called to me. So close. Just a few more feet. My heart began to beat faster as I kept my back against the shelf as if I was a spy in my archenemy’s evil laboratory and continued to keep my eyes peeled for my wandering father and the nervous cashier. It’s still not too late to turn back. My conscience suggested. You can still get out of this. Just go and ask you dad to pay for the triceratops. Ignoring my cowardly conscience, I soon passed the tyrannosauruses, the pterodactyls, and then the raptors. I finally reached the row of dinosaurs that I wanted. Looking down at the price, I read what the dinosaur actually was.

“Tri…cera…tops,” I read slowly, separating the word into three syllables. I read it in syllables because I had just learned to read about a week before. Back then it was a joyous moment. I had felt like I could conquer the whole world. However, after I realized that it would take more than reading to conquer the world, I immediately discarded the idea. “Yep, this is the one,” I said. Slipping it into my pocket, I made sure that it would not stick out like Victor’s other stolen dinosaurs. I gave one last glance around to check if anyone saw me sneak the dinosaur into my pocket. Luckily, no witnesses. I heaved a sigh and began to search for my father who had disappeared somewhere in the shop.

Walking to the back of the store where the models where placed, I stopped at the shelf where I had met the spiky-haired boy. Luckily, he was still there leaning against the shelf, arms folded and looking in my direction. It seemed as though he had expected me to return.

“You got the triceratops?” He asked with a sly smile. His eyes fell to my pockets as if expecting to see the tail sticking out from one of them.

I nodded and showed him the stolen dinosaur by lifting up my shirt. “Yep,” I said as I let my shirt fall down. Nodding to me in approval, Victor stood up and made his way over to me.

Patting me on the shoulder in a congratulatory way, he said, “Welcome to thievery, Marcel. I don’t think you’ll ever be a Guard now. It’s way more fun being a thief than a Guard,” I smirked. I couldn’t help but agree. To me, at age five, defending the greater good of Grey City was far less rewarding than stealing from others. It was the rush of adrenaline that interested me as a child and kept me hooked. I could also finally challenge myself in ways a Guard never could. Instead of boring desk duty or the routine tackle-and-nab tactics the commanders taught us at the Junior Guard Seminars, as a thief I would be able to use my abilities to their fullest. I knew from then on that I would become Marcel Julius, master thief and ex Junior Guard.

“You want to be friends?” Victor asked. He extended his childlike hand out to mine expecting me to shake it. “Well?” He said. “You gonna do it or what?” I stood there gazing at his hand. Shaking it would seal my future and possibly make my dream a reality.

“I don’t know,” I said. My accursed conscience was taking over again. I started to doubt that this was the right thing to do. Maybe the Guard was in fact my true calling, not the life of crime that I had previously felt was right. Maybe…

“C’mon, Marcel,” he whined. “It’ll be fun. We’ll be partners in crime. Victor and Marcel, Marcel and Victor. Whichever one you like. By eighteen, I think we’ll basically own Grey City. So come on and shake my hand, Marcel,” He switched from his right hand to his left. His right arm must have tired.

I slowly shook his hand. “Sure, Victor,” I said with a childish smile. “We’ll be the kings of Grey City before eighteen, I’m sure of it,” Although sounding a little unlikely, I thought about this being my only chance to actually become somebody in Grey City, infamous or not. As he let go, I felt a piece of paper slide out from his hand. It wasn’t the fact that he gave me something that seemed unusual, it was the fact that he used paper to hand deliver it to me. Paper had been obsolete for a while now. I unraveled the piece of paper. Scribbled on it in red marker were numbers. I looked up and gave Victor a confused look.

“It’s my number,” He said, enlightening me. “I’m giving it to you so we can meet up sometime. I have friends that have the same interest in thieving as you do. Just call and we’ll meet you,” I chuckled. A bunch of five-year-olds meeting me on a regular basis? Unlikely.

“Sure,” I said with a skeptical nod. I stuck the paper into my pocket and left Victor in the back to look for my father. I found him where he had left me before. Apparently he wanted to examine the extinct tiger toy one last time.

Looking down at me with a smile, he asked, “Did you find anything that you wanted, Marcel?”

I shook my head. “No, not really. Everything looked so real. It seemed like it was stolen from the exhibits, dad. Is that possible?”

He smiled and said, “No, its not,”