Opening Day

Chapter 9: Snap-Mart

"Soup is Good Food," by Dead Kennedys blared from the rickety van as Max parked in front of Snap-Mart. The purple, yellow, and pink sign read SNAP-MART in bold, italicized letters, a snapping hand with three sharp, little lightning bolts zapped from the pointer and thumb in illuminated neon. White fluorescent light poured from the gallery windows, its flow blocked only by various advertisements for various sales, deals, their famous Mighty Guzzler frozen drinks (Don't forget your First Wives Club Collector's Cup!), and three fliers for "Italian Wedding @ the Silver Mine! Saturday - Doors Open 7p!" that made Jonesy's skin crawl. Though the sun had increasingly dipped under the horizon, Snap-Mart's parking lot remained well-lit.

Max once more checked the clock on his dash. It was now five-twenty five, and they were starting to become uncomfortably behind schedule. Jonesy cleaned out and reassembled her inhaler and followed behind Gina who had already headed into the convenience store.

Bing-Bong

The door chimed for each member of the trio, alerting the clerk at the counter to the new customers.

"Yooo!" The familiar shy baritone of Jonesy and Max's D&D comrade-in-arms, Azrael greeted them with delight. The fifteen year old goth was just as tall as Jonesy, but always stood with a self-conscious stoop in his posture. His straight black hair had gotten very long lately, now reaching down to his painted black fingernails. His silver rings clinked as he waved to his older friends, but especially towards Jonesy.

"What up, Azrael." Jonesy gave the boy a salute and made a quick turn towards the nacho bar while Max made a beeline to his pale pal. Azrael's crush on her made her uncomfortable, he was a genuinely kind-hearted kid, he liked poetry and despite his obsession with death and decay, he wrote flowery poems about nature and romance. His mom and dad were Chinese immigrants, and were always warmly welcoming to her and Max when they would go over to his place to game. All of this only served to tie her stomach up in guilty knots whenever she saw him. Best to just avoid contact as much as possible until he moved on to another object of his affections.

Azrael's eyes followed Jonesy for a few seconds with pained longing before pulling them to meet Max.

"Dude! Opening day!!" Max drummed on the countertop. "After the weird as fuck day I'm having, it's all gonna be worth it when my ass hits that seat and the lights go down."

"So jealous, dude. I don't get out til nine tonight. Sucks." Azrael tried to find Jonesy again, but could only make out the top of her head.

"Bogus, dude." Max started cramming bags of Reese's Pieces, gummy bears, and various candy bars into his jacket while Azrael's attention was noticeably elsewhere.

"How's Jonesy doing?" Azrael asked.

"Uh. Fine. We had a run-in with the dynamic dildos earlier, Farley & Greg, and they kind of got in her head, but I think she's finally comin' out the other side."

Azrael's attention finally came back to Max, "Shit. Should I try to scrape those fliers off the window? I told them not to put those there, but they just ignored me."

"Don't sweat it. We have more important things to discuss! Before I tell you my story, though, dude, what happened with the fuckin' seance?? Did you see anything??"

Azrael smiled, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a polaroid. He handed it to Max, "You tell me." He said.

In the inky night of the cemetery, illuminated by two candles set atop respective gravestones there could be seen, what some might interpret, as the ghostly image of a hand. Its long, boney fingers, reaching out of the darkness.