Friday night, even after 9 p.m., things were pretty hectic. The variety of spend-hungry creatures coroneted the rows of merchandise like hounds on a hunt. Dan saw more women and men in tank tops and pajama pants in the first twenty minutes than he had seen all of his life. One scraggly bearded man in cut-off jeans and a tie-dye shirt was picking his nose as he read the label on a jar of olives. An old woman in Coke-bottle glasses, a tube top, and lime-green sweat pants zoomed by in a in an electric scooter. Only the smell of her perfume was more surprising than her appearance. Clyde sat quietly, holding his nose.
Every aisle had some sort of surprise to humanity. It was like a roving flock of carnival performers who lacked standards or dignity. Dan felt misplaced among the hapless faces as he rolled from aisle to aisle. Clothes. Electronics. Games. Alcohol. Vitamins. Lingerie. Underwear. Diapers. Tires. Floor mats. Guns. Paint. Ammo. Fishing poles. Camping Gear. Fish. Bait. And the least-disturbed aisle of them all: Personal Hygiene. Perhaps that’s what he liked about being here: It was these people, the wal-nauts, that maybe, just maybe made him feel normal. Certainly Ann was better off with him than one of them, but she and his family had a way of making him feel like an outcast.
An old-fashioned phone ring sounded from his pocket, drawing a few bleary-eyed stares in the chip aisle.
“It’s Shooter; maybe he found one already. Speak to me,” Dan said.
“Dan! Dan! Can you hear me?”
“The whole store can. Keep it down, will you?”
Skylar, who had begun eating a bag of nacho chips and dip, was standing nearby. All Dan could hear was a loud crunching sound in his ear.
“Do you mind?” Dan said.
Skylar stopped chewing, but craned his neck.
“Mind what, Dan?” Shooter said on the other line.
“Nothing, Shooter. So, what’s up? You see one?”
“Dan, you gotta see this. I mean it’s unlike anything I ever saw. This is the one! This is the one, I tell you!”
“Where?”
“Lawn and garden! Ho ho, wait until you see this. What!? It’s Liz … She says they're moving on … she’s going to distract them. Be careful, Honey! Dan, you gotta get over here. They are on the move. Looks like they are heading for the checkout … no, wait. They are heading over to the pool supplies, and one of them just broke towards automotive. I’ll call you back! Get over here!”
Click!
“So?” Skylar asked, as he resumed crunching his chips.
Dan was already pushing Clyde and the cart along.
“Get the camera ready. Shooter says he's got something.”
The excitement in Shooter’s voice got his blood going, but his friend’s voice was always like that. Shooter reacted to the most mundane things, such as a black goldfish swimming in a fish tank, the same as the most amazing knockout you ever saw. Still, Dan had a feeling that he was about to find what he was looking for. His phone was buzzing. He had a text message from Shooter.
HURRY TOY SECTION
Clyde’s shaggy head popped up.
“We going to the toys now?”
“Yep.”
“Yes!” the boy said, pulling his fist down.
“Skylar,” he said, sticking out his phone, “keep the camera ready.”
“Got it, Boss,” the man replied, taking the phone.
The small group weaved in and out of the video section and turned down the main aisle where the paint and gun sales started. There seemed to be an unusual amount of traffic in the toy section this evening. Several men, fifty and over, were making casual glances up and down the toy aisle. Dan headed through the bike row to the other side and almost ran into more of the older men, who were slow to move out of his way. Just as he was about to turn down the clearance aisle, Shooter’s impish face appeared.
“Hey,” he whispered and waved, “I got Liz distracting them. Go to the end on the other side, where all of the pool stuff is. I’ll cut them off this way.”
Dan shrugged and pushed the cart down the row, which seemed to be where all of the other men were headed. It wasn’t long before he noticed a community of men gathering as discreetly as they could and craning their necks to get a better view of something. That’s when Liz popped out from around the corner with a pair of lime green pool noodles in the nooks of her arms. Her chest was swaying back and forth inside a short dress as she pointed back in the direction from where she came. A white-haired man nearby went into a fit of coughing as she bent over to slip her loose shoe back on. Then, she headed toward the registers with a troupe of admirers not far behind.
“Okay, act normal. Let’s see what Shooter found for us,” he said, wheeling the cart around the corner.
There they were, part of the giant albatross hung over the neck of American society: two young men, a pregnant young woman, a baby in a dirty stroller, and an older woman who looked like all of the dreams in her life had been undone.
The young pregnant woman, as pretty as can be, seemed determined to chew every last flavor molecule from her gum—as loudly as she could. Each of the young men wore a ball cap and tattoos. They had on designer jeans, gothic T-shirts, and heavy leather boots. One looked mean and the other plain stupid. The older woman—likely the mother of one of them—seemed to be the most together out of the four, but she looked lost at sea. Dan could see that all hope for rescue had faded from her once-attractive face.
“Hurry up. I want to get home. I’ve got things to do,” the older woman said.
“Chill out, Mom. Don’t be such a B. We still have to get formula and cigarettes, ya know.”
Dan could see the woman’s eyes. She wanted to smack her daughter, but the fight wasn’t in her, not anymore.
“Besides, we have places to go tonight. You are gonna watch Jaime tonight, aren’t you? It’s me and Jeff’s anniversary. He’s taking me to Outback.”
The woman opened up her mouth to say something, looked at the baby, shook her head, and said, “Sure, let’s just get this over with.”
Skylar was nearby, wearing his fedora hat, with the smart phone strapped around his neck. Dan had rigged up a special necklace that made for a perfect camera angle. It didn’t always work so well, but it served a purpose. Meanwhile, Dan was beginning to heat up inside as he absently inspected the bottles of suntan lotion.
Clyde hopped out of the cart.
“Be right back.”
The family was on the move, and Clyde had disappeared into the toy aisle.
“Crap, we're gonna lose them. Skylar, keep tabs on them. I’ll find Clyde.”
Dan combed the aisles, and two minutes later Clyde had appeared behind him with a toy in each hand.
“Clyde, don’t run off like that.”
“What do you mean? I’ve been following you the whole time.”
“Huh …, “ then Dan smiled, he’d forgotten how sneaky Clyde was. Then again, maybe the boy was fibbing. “Okay, now just get in; we’ve got to go.”
Clyde climbed back in the cart and said, “Sorry Dad, no blond Hulk.”
Dan rubbed his head saying, “Aw, that’s okay, there’s always eBay and comic shows.”
They followed Skylar's directions all the way to the other side of the store and found themselves in the baby aisle. Skylar was waving them on from ahead. He pushed ahead and stopped in the snack aisle. It was there that the family went into a huddle of sorts. Dan watched as they picked through the carts. The older woman had one and her daughter the other, while the young man was pushing the stroller. The girl pulled several booklets of food stamps from her purse.
“Jeff, you can’t get all those chips and snacks. These don’t cover that,” she said, waving her food stamps. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“It’s food, ain’t it? I can’t believe I have to pay cash for this stuff,” he said, pulling out a roll of twenties. “That burns my ass; the government trying to control how
I eat.” Then the young man whispered something in his girlfriend’s ear. She said to her mom, “Mom, why don’t you buy these for us? Seeing how Jeff is taking me out on our anniversary an all.”
Dan felt the air shimmer just before the woman began to speak.
“What! Have you lost your mind, Missy? He lives in the house rent-free already, and now you want me to buy his snacks? Where the Hell is your food stamps anyway, Jeff? What did you do, sell them?”
“Nah,” Jeff said, with an indignant tone.
“Ah … so you traded them. And for what? Not to feed your child, that’s for sure, you little asshole.”
The lady was storming away, with Skylar ghosting her tail.
Dan heard it all from the end of the row as he scanned over the dog food. Everything he saw and heard bristled his spirit. Clyde was still in the cart, looking over the packs of cards he had picked up. Times like these I need a pill, he thought, rubbing his head. He noticed his hand was trembling a bit. The two young men were laughing, and the half-embarrassed daughter began to join in, too. Jeff handed the other young man two twenties and said, “Go get the cigs.”
Where were Shooter and Liz now? Oh well, he headed back down toward the registers.
It was busy; every register had a line, so no one was going anywhere fast. He wheeled his cart behind the deadbeat with the stroller. Skylar was lurking in the candle aisle nearby. Where’s Shooter? He noticed Skylar peering around and tapping his iPhone. The man took his hat off and waved it in the air. That’s when Dan noticed Liz in a separate line a few registers down. She had a bathing suit, lingerie, and other clothes bundled in her arms as she chatted with an older man whose face was flushed. All of the players were in place.
The mother was one slot ahead of her daughter and boyfriend. The young man Jeff was fidgeting and scratching his head. He had the smell about him, just like the hippies in Dan’s fraternity used to have, but a little more clean. He watched as Jeff pulled out his twenties and began counting. It was odd, stupid, a young man counting his bills in a grocery line. Dan saw his opening and took it.
“Wow, looks like you’ve been working hard this week,” he said, with a friendly smile. “That’s a lot of bills.” He kinda laughed.
The young man, Jeff, and the girl, Missy, both gave him funny looks. The mother wasn’t paying any attention. Jeff glowed for a bit and turned away. Dan tapped him on the shoulder.
“Say, I’ve never seen that big a wad of cash before. How much is it, anyway? Like a thousand?”
“Leave me alone, Dude.”
Missy’s face was beginning to show some signs of worry. Dan looked at her and smiled as he said, “Hi there. You sure are a pretty mommy. Is that your baby? He’s a cute fella. What’s his name?”
Her rigid body began to soften, a smile formed and her lips parted to speak.
“Hey man, leave us alone,” Jeff said, drawing himself up.
Jeff wasn’t as tall as Dan, and his shoulders were slack over a belly that hung over his belt from a life of fast food and cheap beer. Tired eyes were cracked and agitated, but the young man still seemed formidable.
“Sorry, Dude, the line is long, and I was trying to make some conversation. So, tell me, what do you do for a living? If you’re pulling in that kind of cash I wouldn’t mind changing careers.”
“Er … Construction, I’m in construction.”
“Really, now that’s interesting. My dad was in construction. What kind of construction do you do?”
“Uh … I pour concrete.”
The line began to move, and Jeff shoved his cart ahead.
“Wow, so did my dad. You know, you have awfully soft hands for someone that works with concrete. I mean, my dad had callouses all the way up to his elbows.”
“Buddy, I don’t give two shits if your dad had callouses from his asshole to his ankles. Leave me alone.”
Something about the young man was beginning to stir him up. He didn’t like his attitude.
“Hey, take it easy. I tell you what. I bet, just by looking at you, I can tell what kind of construction you do.”
The girlfriend was looking right at him, a small smile on her face, and her mother had turned to see what was going on. Jeff on the other hand had a fist bunched up by his side.
Dan continued, “Here is what I think. You are in bullshit construction. You know what that means. That means you don’t work. No job and the only construction you’ve ever done was probably making a homemade bong in shop class.”
“Who the Hell—”
Dan stuck out his hand and said, “I’m not done. You haven’t had a job longer than a month. You live with your girlfriend's mother and you sell drugs while collecting unemployment. Meanwhile, you get your cash from my uncle Sam, not having any idea where the money comes from. You eat food, use electric and shower with water—occasionally—that you don’t pay for.”
The young man began to smile and said, “What about it?”
Cocky bastard!
“You’re what, twenty-one, twenty-two? You don’t work, and don’t try to.”
“Don’t have to! What are you going to do about it … Dickhead?”
“How about I give you a job?”
“Don’t want one.”
“It’s working in a strip club.”
Jeff looked at him and said, “Dude, that’s what I was doing when I got into this girlfriend and kid mess.”
“Hey!” Missy said, smacking him in he shoulder.
The mother screeched, “You sonuvabitch!”
Now Dan wanted to hit the man, but he felt Clyde’s little hand clutching his from the cart behind him. He turned and saw the nervous look on his boy's face. His heart was racing, though; he wanted to knock some sense into the young man. He couldn’t let it go, not yet.
“Okay, it isn't a strip club, but it’s a decent job, working at a factory. I can get you on. You wanna give it a shot?”
The mother's and daughter’s eyes were hopeful.
“No, I like what I do.”
“Not even for your son?”
“The government pays for him.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Hey Buddy,” another man in a sleeveless jean jacket said, “leave him alone. He don’t have to work if he don’t want to. I don’t.”
The man was in his forties, wearing black sweatpants and a red bandana. His cart was filled with 24-packs of generic diet cola, snack cakes and Top Ramen noodles.
Clyde kept tugging at him.
“Dad, let’s go. Your face is getting all red.”
Dan could feel his heart beating in his chest. He was on the brink; justice needed to be served. He looked at more of the nearby faces and began to realize they were staring at him. They had the same look in their pathetic faces as his family had days ago. It wasn’t Jeff who was the problem; it was him. This infuriated him.
He looked at Jeff and said, “So be it.”
By the time he checked out, the family was gone. He headed outside, where Skylar had pulled the car alongside the curb and now got back into the passenger seat. He and Clyde hopped back into their seats.
“Where’d they go?” he asked.
“That’s them, right there in the bronze mini-van with black wheels. See? See?” Shooter said.
“I got em,” he said, pulling away.
Liz said, “What now?”
“We follow them home, but that’s it for now. I got to get Clyde in. We’ve got some game time planned.”
“Yes!!” His boy said.
“Ah … can I come, too, Danny boy? I just love games,” Liz said.
Shooter interjected, “I’ve got plenty of games planned for us tonight, Baby.”
Dan wasn’t paying attention to all the silly things they said next. He squeezed the wheel. They can’t all get away with this.
CHAPTER 14
Dan was cooking some bacon and eggs while
Clyde was watching cartoons. It was Sunday, and the pair had spent most of Saturday inside, ordering pizza and playing video games. It had been Dan’s best weekend in quite a while.
“You still like those eggs scrambled?” he asked.
“Yep, with lots a salt and a side of—”
“Ketchup. I know, coming right up.”
The smell of eggs, bacon, and baking biscuits filled the air, and Dan’s mouth began to water.
“You want white or chocolate milk?”
“Mmmm … Chocolate! It’s been a while since I’ve had that.”
Clyde tooted.
“Did you say something, Clyde?”
“No,” he said with a giggle.
“Well, someone said something. Did you hear something, kinda like this?”
Dan let a fart go that was a little more than he bargained for.
“Ewww, Dad! That’s nasty!”
Dan pulled his T-shirt over his nose and started spraying cooking oil in the air. That didn’t help. He added, “It sure is. Excuse me a second and watch these eggs.”
“You better take another shower; you’re gonna need it,” Clyde giggled.
Dan headed to the bedroom to change into some cleaner clothes, and when he came back Clyde had the food on the plates and was eating.
“Wow, you're quick.”
“I was hungry.”
The two sat in the quiet, cheap metal forks scraping over the dollar-store plates.
“Dad, I wish it wasn’t raining. I wanted to get in the pool.”
“I know; next time, though, we should be good.”
“I hope. Dad, do you think Mom will ever let you come back home? I miss you. It’s not any fun without you around.”
Dan’s heart began to stir in his chest as Clyde’s eyes started to water. He couldn’t believe Ann would be so selfish. He had to wonder if maybe he wasn’t being selfish, too. He just didn’t understand why she couldn't accept him the way he was. It wasn’t as if he had done anything wrong or anything. He just did things that most people didn’t like. Why they didn’t like it was beyond him. He had tried to let go of his disposition, but it would be easier for the bee to stay away from honey. That’s where the pills came in. They helped; things weren’t as bothersome, but they made him feel like a zombie that didn’t eat brains. The pills made him walk around aimlessly, oblivious to the urgency of his surroundings, a non-factor in the life of others.