Viper

Hardware Store

They arrived at an old section of an industrial district. The area smelled of processed foods and furnaces and foundries. They walked into a crowded strip of old buildings with wooded facades which seemed to sell old junk, scrap metal and the likes. A great deal of the buildings were boarded up and looked abandoned. David and Clyde had to go through a fence. 

The whole set up looked as random as could be. Clyde opened a door to one of the old building that read Ferreteria or Hardware Store. David was in disbelief thinking to himself "No way this guy has some sort of high tech crime fighting fortress here," and he was right, he didn't.

Inside was a small room full of trash, cluttered with more metal and scraps. It was tight to walk and navigate through it. Clyde was leading David through though, finally leading into another set of doors that seemed to be hidden.

David again thought "Okay, this is clever. It must be through there."

"Through there," Clyde directed David,

David stepped through with caution and curiosity. Clyde turned on the lights and David saw again little of anything important. What he did see was a shop with some more clutter and some machining tools, electronic equipment and an assortment of fist aid kits and many file cabinets.

"This is it," Clyde said to David

"This is what?" said David with a great level of disbelief.

"This is where I work out of."

"Work? This place is...a dump," said David.

"Sorry no offense," he continued.

"Well, it's not pentagon but it's worked for me for almost a decade," said Clyde with a smile and a lot of pride.

"For what? You some sort of nut?" asked David.

Clyde begun to take his coat and what was clearly armor off.

"Sigh, I guess there really is no nice way to put it. Going out at night with this junk strapped on me, looking for who knows what from who knows who. I can't be right in the head, but that's what I do," he said with some level of melancholy.

"You don't seem crazy. You clearly know this is ridiculous, so why do you do it?" asked David.

"Ridiculous? No, maybe misguided or something but not ridiculous. Others have done more useless things for more meaningless reasons. Something that has meaning, a purpose is not ridiculous," said Clyde with noticeable level of conviction.

"I agree," responded David, understanding the meaning of having a purpose.

"What gives you meaning?" he asked Clyde.

Clyde went quiet, looking down on a shelf with an assortment of things. David could not tell what if anything in particular Clyde was looking at, but his change in demeanor indicated this was something personal.

"It's my boy," Clyde said forcefully.

"He was taken from me about fifteen years ago. The streets took him," said Clyde with pain in his voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that," David said softly.

Clyde pulled out a small tricycle from the shelf.

"He was a smart boy, really playful and curious," Clyde said with a huge smile.

"He was full of life. Always dancing and singing!" he continued, his joyous expression reflecting the vibrancy of the child.

"He wanted to be a star. He was into all that art stuff, plays and singing...He had dreams of making it big too. Even liked going to school because of those classes," Clyde continued looking at the old tricycle.