The Lone Ranger Cap Pistol

The Lone Ranger Cap Pistol(Richard Leone) The Lone Ranger Cap Pistol


When my friend, Donnie, showed me his Lone Ranger cap pistol, I wanted to buy one too. It was painted silver with a carved handle just like the one I saw on TV. When I asked Mother for the money, she said if I wanted one I would have to earn the money.

Mr. Stevens was always looking for boys to help him sell produce at the Farmer’s Market; I would have to be at the town square on Saturday, the day I was supposed to play baseball with Donnie. He always had plenty of spending money to buy baseball cards and Baby Ruth bars. It was bad enough that I lived in an apartment and Donnie lived in a big house and his father owned a new car. So I told Donnie I was going to a Saturday matinee with my brother Joe instead of admitting I was selling vegetables to earn money.

My tee shirt started sticking to my back when I got to the park. There were parents with kids looking at all the produce on sale under the tents on the grass. The stand where I worked didn’t have the best tomatoes and cucumbers like the other vendors. Mr. Stevens who grew the vegetables always came late and had to set up his booth at the farthest end of the park. Many of the customers made most of their purchases by the time they got to our stand. He didn’t have an umbrella to shade the produce and some of the tomatoes got soft. I hoped sales would improve in the afternoon but clouds started to appear just before lunch.

Around two o’clock I saw my friend Donnie walking into the park. I wanted to hide but Mr. Stevens had gone back to the truck to see if he had any more fresh tomatoes. I pulled my cap as far down on my head as possible. But Donnie kept coming closer to the booth and Mr. Stevens was nowhere in sight.

“I thought you went to the movies, Ricky?” Donnie asked when I saw him standing in front of me. I felt my face turn red as the tomatoes in the basket.

“I, eh, I changed my mind.”

“What are you doing here?” Donnie asked, picking up one of the tomatoes.

“I’m helping out Mr. Stevens while he takes a break.”

“Let’s go play ball at the field. I want to show you my new glove.”

“I can’t leave now. I have to wait for Mr. Stevens.”

“You’re sure acting weird.” Donnie said tossing the tomato in the air.

“Put that back in the basket,” I ordered.

“I don’t feel like it.” Donnie started to squeeze it with his thumb till it broke in half.

“You’re going to have to pay for that tomato,” I barked.

“No I’m not.” Donnie said and put the squashed tomato back in the basket.

“You better get out of here before Mr. Stevens gets back.”

“I’ll think I’ll find someone else to play ball with me who doesn’t have to work,” Donnie sneered as he walked away.

“I’m going to buy a Lone Ranger cap pistol just like yours and I’m going to pay for it myself,” I blurted out. Donnie turned around and looked at me with a scowl on his face but before he could say anything I threw the soggy tomato and it hit him in the forehead. I let out a big laugh when I saw Donnie’s eyes bug out. I was still laughing when Mr. Stevens returned just in time to stop Donnie from running behind the stand after me.

It took a few more Saturdays working at the Farmer’s Market for me to save up enough money to buy the Lone Ranger cap pistol. After I bought it, I showed it to Donnie. He said his gun was shinier and his caps made a louder noise. I just remembered when the tomato ran down his face and didn’t say anything.