Nobody

Trip to the Store

The bell jingled when I went into the General Store and I was immediately flooded with the scent of good solid working store. There were a few people doing some shopping in the grocery section off to my left, but I went right, grabbing a cart and heading into the hardware section.

I had the car loaded with tools, had spotted the generator and the compressor I wanted, and was looking at paint before someone finally spotted that I was a stranger wandering around in the store with a cart full of high priced stuff.

"Can I help you, sir?" The woman was in her thirties, which was fine, I was on the wrong side of forty myself. She was plump, in that lush way, with brown hair, blue eyes and a pert little button nose. Her stance was a little challenging, letting me know silently that she wasn't going to be pushed around.

"If'n it ain't no bother to ya, missy. I can use a mite bit o' help gettin' the iron I need," I said, letting my Texas drawl slow my words.

She frowned. "Come again?"

I laughed. "Sorry, tired," I told her. I took another drink off that big still cold can of energy drink. Mason had been right, the taste kind of grew on you. I wiped my mouth. "Pardon."

She nodded, still slightly frowning.

"Gonna need a twelve gauge pump action and some critter shot, need painting tape, plywood, some shootin' targets, grid style if'n ya gottem, four boxes of forty-five ball, a fishing rod, some tackle. Hell, pardon me, a box of pre-done tackle, can of bait, and then I'll need to get a Coleman stove and some vittles," I rattled off. I knew I lost her, my accent confusing everything, halfway through.

"I'll need to see ID for the shotgun," she started out, walking toward the front corner of the store. We stopped while she got out ammunition. I filled out the paperwork, let her look over my ID, check out my rental agreement, and get on the phone to Aunt Mary-Beth to validate that I was actually renting from her as well as to tell the woman I was buying a bunch of construction tools.

Satisfied that I wasn't going to run out of the store and down the highway with a shopping cart full of tools or load the shotgun and rob her, she walked with me through the store. The more stuff I got, the bigger her eyes got, until I had four carts worth the equipment and supplies.

Bo came in as she was ringing me up, walking over and standing next to me, watching the woman work.

"Buying a lot, Tex," he said, putting his hands in his back pockets.

"Yup. Lotta work ta be done," I told him. "Gonna fix the roof first, floors too, then get to work on the rest of it."

An older gentlemen with a bald pate and a string of gray hair around his ears and the back of his head walked up, dressed in overalls and a blue t-shirt.

"Lotsa stuff ya buying," He said, squinting at me.

"Ayup," I said.

"He's renting my aunt Mary-Beth's old mobile home, Pete," Bo told him.

The man snorted, shaking his head. "Ain't nobody lived in that place going on fifteen years now."

I shrugged. "It ain't no thing."

The older man squinted at me. "You from Texas or you just puttin' on an accent."

"Spent a bit in the Army, muddled up my accent, but I'm from Texas," I told him.

"Whatcha doin' out here, boy?" He asked me, his squint deepening. "Kentucky's a long way from Texas."

Pru's dead, that's what

"Wife died middle of May. Just couldn't stay there no more. Felt like she was still in the house. Even the Burger King reminded me of her," I said. "This seems like a nice place and it don't feel like she's around every corner, ya know what I mean?"