The General Store: Where Innocence Goes to Die

by A. L. Moore

  “Is Jayson the guy on the bike?”

  She chewed on the side of her lip before applying a coat of deep burgundy lip gloss. “The bike?” she asked, blotting her lips together with a smack.

  “The black one that was at your house last night.” Geez! How many motorcycles was she hitching rides on? “The guy with the long hair.” And the killer brown eyes.

  “No,” she said dismissively, snapping her bag shut. “That’s his brother, Liam. Jayson rides, too.” She flipped through a stack of twenties before sticking them beneath the cash drawer. “Do you ride?”

  “Me? Ride?” I nearly chocked on my own spit. Until last night, the closest I’d come to a bike was in the Piggly Wiggly parking lot.

  “There’s no other way to travel,” she said, brushing her dark hair off her bronzed shoulder.

  She went back to counting change while I pulled the blinds. I kept my eyes away from the sidewalk, afraid someone would catch my eye and want to come inside. I’d have to practice my poker face for next time. Mason said I couldn’t make a mean face if I tried. Though, that was three years ago. I’d wager he’d changed his mind since then.

  I heard the roar of the engine before the lights flashed across my face.

  “Let’s go! Let’s go!” Robyn shouted, unlocking the door and tossing me the key. “Lock it behind you. I’ll get it later.”

  “Wait,” I said, grabbing my bag from behind the counter.

  She was already gone, a blur of headlights and squealing tires. I stared around the dark store. The storage room light flickered. There was no way I was venturing in alone. It was just too creepy. I quickly pulled the door shut as if a monster might run out to get me. I tried the door three times before I was satisfied it had locked. The red taillights from Jayson’s bike were long gone. I tucked the key into my pocket and started home.

  Mason’s truck wasn’t in front of my house, but the garage door was still open. It was cluttered, but judging from the load on the curb, Mason had earned his fifteen dollars. I smiled to myself in the satisfaction that I’d made twice as much money walking around an air-conditioned store. The house was dark. Mom and Dad were doing their weekly good deed, delivering food to the elderly widow, Ms. White, down the street. I texted Anna and told her about my job. Her last post showed her at an air hockey table surrounded by smiling faces I didn’t know.

  Anna was quick to make friends, always had been. She wasn’t cursed with the shy gene I’d been blessed with. She could walk up to a stranger and have a conversation. People were comfortable around her. Even I was. The first time we met, she'd sat across from me in the cafeteria and asked if I wanted to share her cookies. We were in the third grade then and have ate lunch together ever since, except for freshman year. Freshman year I got stuck on second lunch.

  Anna texted back a line of smiling faces and dollar signs. If I knew her, she was already planning a shopping trip. It would be nice to be able to afford more than one thing during her shopping binges. I might even pay her back for all the stuff she bought me last summer. I couldn’t wait to hit the shops on Main Street. We walked by them on the weekends, but the price tags in the windows kept us on the sidewalk. The clothes were trendier than the ones in the department stores. Everyone at school had things from the mall. For senior year, I wanted something with an edge, something that said more than Penny’s had a two-for-one sale. I was tired of grazing with the other sheep.

  Next year everyone would know Justice Asher.

  Mom and Dad found me sitting on the porch where I’d been listening for the distant hum of a motorcycle for the past two hours. Every headlight added to the growing knot in my stomach, but no one turned into Robyn’s drive. Her parent’s oversized SUV was there. It was tempting to take the key to her dad, but I didn’t want to get her into trouble or come off as some little kid. At the same time, I didn’t know what time the store opened, or if Mr. Smith had another key.

  “How was work?” Dad asked as if I’d just toured a chocolate factory and not restocked shelves, a block away.

  “It was fine,” I said, dragging my bare feet to stop the swing. “I folded a lot of shirts and cleaned up after dirty faced little boys. It was a lot like being at home.”

  “Wow,” he said, wide-eyed, taking a step back. “I was wondering when that would happen.”

  “What?”

  He chuckled, “You sound just like your mother.” He grinned back at my mom.

  Mom rolled her eyes, her fist planted firmly on the hip of her floral, floor length skirt. “I don’t recall you doing too much laundry around here,” she said eyeing me up and down.

  Without dirt smudged on her face, Mom was actually pretty. Her hair was a shade darker than my own. It used to be nearly identical to mine until she started dying it to hide the grey. She kept it in a low bun most of the time and had long since traded her contacts for glasses.

  “I do my share,” I countered, which was a complete and total lie of epic proportions. My room was lucky to be rid of dirty clothes by week’s end.

  I reluctantly followed her into the house. The last thing I needed was Robyn showing up on my doorstep. I could kiss my new job goodbye if that happened.

  “If we all walked around naked, you do your share,” Mom chuckled.

  The lines around her mouth were more pronounced when she laughed. Her face was an older version of mine, with big blue eyes and smooth alabaster skin. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was staring at my future self.

  “Why were you sitting in the dark? Is Mason coming back over?” Dad asked, latching the door behind him. “He seemed down that you were taking a job for the summer.”

  Mason? It had slipped my mind to call him. That was a first.

  “I was waiting on you guys,” I lied smoothly. “I wanted to tell you about my job.”

  “Well, I’m glad you did, kiddo,” Dad said hugging my shoulder. He smelled like popcorn and Brute aftershave. “We’re so proud of you, taking initiative like this.”

  Dad was only a couple inches taller than Mom’s five-feet-seven, but he outweighed her by a good bit. He was broad shouldered with a gut that had seen more than its share of cheeseburger plates. His hair was dark like Josh’s but thinning on top. He kept it combed over, but it only highlighted the problem if you asked me.

  "Ms. White missed you, too," Mom added thoughtfully. "Said she misses her reading buddy."

  "Mom, I have a job now."

  “Right," she sighed, glancing at my dad. "Just remember, you still need to keep your room clean and pick up after yourself around here,” Mom added as I sank into my favorite spot on the leather sofa.

  “How much are they paying you?” Dad asked, pulling his blue sports coat off and hanging it in the hall closet before following Mom into the kitchen.

  “Nine dollars?”

  “Not too shabby,” he said, his eyebrows pulling up. “You might be able to loan me a few dollars.”

  Dad started putting away the stack of plates Mom pulled from the dishwasher, allowing me to get back to my surveillance. I glanced subtly out the window, barley pulling the blinds to the side long enough to make out the curb in front of Robyn’s. The upstairs room she’d been hanging out of the other night was bright. I pulled the key out of my pocket and turned it over in my hand. Things were working out perfectly.

  I’d only been at the store one day, and I already had a reason to cross the imaginary line that separated her side of the street from my own.

  Chapter 3. Introductions

  The glass door was propped open despite the weight of the key in my pocket. My shoulders relaxed, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. It was twenty minutes past opening time, and I’d pictured everyone locked outside cursing my name. I’d fallen asleep last night before I had a chance to sneak over to Robin’s with the key.

  Mr. Smith was busy setting up a sidewalk display of pinwheels and kites, and through the window, I could see the top of Robyn’s head behind the front counter.

  “G
ood morning,” Mr. Smith called. “I was wondering if we’d see your face.”

  “Sorry about that,” I started. I knew I should’ve gotten up earlier, but my bed was so comfortable, especially now that Dad turned the air on. “I wasn’t clear on what time we opened.”

  “Store opens at nine,” he said, glancing at the door where the store’s hours were painted in white, block letters for all the world to see. My cheeks instantly reddened at being caught in a lie.

  “I left an apron for you on the counter,” he smiled. “Robyn is going to train you this morning before things get busy.”

  “I didn’t think it was busy during the week.”

  He scratched his head, pondering the display in front of him. “We have a pretty good crowd at lunch,” he explained, “buying drinks and what not. I’ve told Robyn to stay with you until you have the hang of it.”

  I tied the white apron and waited for him to turn his back before placing the key on the glass.

  “Oh, yeah,” Robyn said, scooping it up. “Thanks.”

  “What time did you get home?” I asked, trying to keep the heat out of my voice. “I watched for you until late. I didn’t know if there was another key.”

  “Who knows,” she said, checking her phone one last time before sticking it in her purse.

  “Have you ever used a cash register before?” she asked, changing the subject. I shook my head as she started clicking different screens on the computer. It looked pretty simple, nothing more than an oversized calculator. “It’s basically just keying in the prices that don’t scan automatically.

  “Is that it?” I asked, peering over her shoulder.

  “Yeah. It’s pretty basic. If you get confused or have any returns, call Tom.”

  “Tom?”

  “Mr. Smith,” she corrected, still clicking away. “I’ve only had a couple of returns since I started, and he walked me through both of them.

  An elderly woman set her basket on the counter, and I started unloading her box of tissues and greeting cards while she dug around in an oversized wicker purse.

  “You got this one?” Robyn asked hopeful.

  I looked at her panicked. She’d only shown me once. “I was thinking more of watching today.”

  “You will learn faster if you try it,” she said, stepping out of the way and gesturing to the keyboard.

  The woman and Robyn stared at me, waiting. I could feel my skin flame. I wasn’t sure where to start. I’d always been on the other side of the counter. It felt like any second I would be scolded for being back here.

  I carefully took each item and ran it over the scanner until the price appeared on the screen. Everything chimed in, and I looked to Robyn like I’d aced the SATs and not just rang up an eight-dollar order.

  “You’ve got to hit the total button,” she said annoyed, reaching around me.

  “Seven dollars and eighty-three cents,” I said, squaring my shoulders and trying to look professional.

  The woman dumped out an assortment of coins onto the counter. I was hoping for a credit card. I’d watched Robyn scan those, and it looked easier to deal with.

  I helped the woman count until she had the exact change and handed her the receipt. I didn’t need to look down to know that my chest was covered in a red rash. It always happened when my nerves got the best of me.

  “That wasn’t so hard,” Robyn yawned, knotting her ponytail into a messy bun on top of her head. “You think you can keep that up while I take a nap in the back?”

  “Are you crazy?” I spun around nearly knocking her over in my haste to keep her planted. “Don’t you dare leave me out here by myself. Mr. Smith said you would stay with me.”

  She chuckled, rolling her black lined eyes and pulling the stool closer to the computer. Her fingers moved deftly across the keys. The screen showed a shopping website.

  “I was just messing with you. You really need to loosen up, Justice Asher.”

  Finally! She knew my name.

  Thankfully, the next few people left their change purses at home. The credit cards were easier, but Robyn said it was a pain when they wouldn’t go through. She said people yelled at her like it was her fault when their cards were rejected. I would die if someone yelled at me.

  By lunch, I felt like I had the hang of it. Robyn begrudgingly went out on the floor to help customers. My line backed up once, but it had done the same thing to Robyn the day before.

  Mr. Smith left for lunch after the crowd left, and I sat down for the first time all day. I could see Robyn through the glass, talking to a couple of guys that were clearly not interested in the kites she was displaying. Of course, that didn’t stop them from coming in and buying two. She’d been selling things all morning. I wondered if she got a commission. It was surprising that Mr. Smith didn’t put me on the register and Robyn on the floor. She was a much better salesperson than I was, confident to the point even I was tossing around the idea of buying some of the useless crap we sold. I wasn’t entirely sure if the kites were made from reinforced nylon or not, but she had me convinced. People could always tell I had no clue what I was talking about.

  “Nine dollars an hour to sit on your butt,” Mason deadpanned, sticking his head out from behind the rotating display of sunglasses. His skin looked darker than it had yesterday. His yard-work business must have started up.

  “Where did you come from?” I asked, hopping up and trying to look busier.

  “Just wanted to see you in action,” he grinned, leaning on the counter.

  Two middle school aged girls giggled behind him.

  “Well, you should’ve been here thirty minutes ago. I bet I sold over twenty Rock- Suckers.”

  “Wow,” he teased, that’s impressive. I scowled and he quickly backtracked. “I saw the crowd,” he admitted. “I walked by earlier, but you looked busy, so I grabbed a burger at Benny’s first. Brought you one,” he said, handing me a grease- stained paper bag. Benny’s made the best burgers in town.

  “Thanks. I’m starving,” I said, snatching the bag. “I didn’t think to pack anything.” I took a huge bite. “I’m glad you came by. It’s pretty dead around here in the afternoons.”

  “Is the register complicated?” he asked, leaning around to see the computer screen.

  “Don’t Mason!” I gave him a shove. “Get back there before you get me fired.”

  He laughed and rolled his eyes, “Do you have an X-rated screen saver or something?”

  “Of course not, but there are cameras in here; I don’t want to get in trouble.”

  “Sorry,” he said, holding his hands in the air.

  We both glanced up when the bell rang to see Robyn coming through the door. A ting of jealousy overcame me watching the way her simple white camisole and khaki shorts hugged her curves.

  “Doesn’t she live across the street from you?”

  “Everybody’s got to live somewhere,” I said dismissively, hoping he’d let it go.

  Mason could be worse than Joshua about snitching on me. Especially if he thought I was doing something that would get me into trouble. I’d gone off campus with Anna for lunch one day freshman year, and he’d told my parents over dinner that night.

  “What time do you get off?” he asked, taking a step back when a woman with three loud preschoolers came in.

  “I’m not really sure. Why?”

  “I thought you might want to do something later.”

  I dabbed the mustard from my mouth and pretended to key something into the computer. “If it isn’t too late.”

  His face fell at my words. He'd looked like that a lot lately. “I’ll call you,” I said as kids piled handfuls of candy onto the glass.

  Mason hesitated, about to argue, but I’d already started loading candy onto the scale. He gave me a half-hearted wave and walked out the door. Robyn came back from the stock room and took over my stool. She rang up the order as I called out the prices. She was so much faster than I was, in every conceivable way. We both had a finger pre
ssed firmly to the side of our heads because of the noise. How kids reached that screeching noise that surpassed the highest volume on my radio was beyond me. They were obnoxious, dirty little creatures. I didn’t remember being that loud when I was little…or that sticky. The last thing these kids needed was more sugar.

  “Who’s the guy?” Robyn asked, massaging her temples.

  “Mason,” I sighed, wiping the dirty smudge prints off the glass.

  “He’s cute,” she mused, tucking a long strand of silken black hair behind her ear. “A little too boy-next-door for my taste but cute.”

  I couldn’t deny Mason was cute. I was constantly having to run off giggling freshmen at school who tried to catch his eye in the halls between classes. He was one of the most athletic boys at school. It was a shame his skill level didn’t match. At one time, I couldn’t look at his warm brown eyes without blushing seven shades of red, but Robyn had hit the nail on the head. Mason would always be just that, the boy next door.

  “Is he your boyfriend or something?”

  “For three years now,” I said, grabbing a dust rag.

  She looked at me questioningly over the top of her phone. “Are you mad at him?”

  “No, why?”

  “You just didn’t seem too eager to hook up later.” For the first time, her eyes didn’t look annoyed when she addressed me. She looked genuinely interested. “I would’ve been out the door if my boyfriend had dropped by in high school.” She would’ve been out the door if her boyfriend dropped by now.

  I debated what to say next. I hadn’t told anyone how I felt about Mason, not even Anna. I wasn’t really sure myself anymore.

  “It used to be like that,” I hesitated. “Things are just…different now.”

  “Different how? You don’t like him anymore?”

  “I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel like it used to.”

  “So, do something about it.”

  “I’ve tried,” I said, my rag smearing the sticky smudges into larger circles on the counter. “I’ve talked to him until I’m blue in the face, but he doesn’t get it.”