Dark Recollections (23 page)

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Authors: Chris Philbrook

BOOK: Dark Recollections
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“Idiots! Get out of the way so they can get out of our way!” She hollered at the half dozen folks all jockeying for position in front of her. They turned, astonished a woman was yelling at them. She gave them her stern motherly look and two young men backed their carts away.
 
A few people previously stuck in the aisle rushed out, relieved to be free.
 

“See? We can’t all fit in there, let some more out.” She shook her head at the morons she was surrounded by. Poor Tommy was all flustered watching his mom get angry. She never got angry. A faint tear welled up in one eye as his six year old mind tried to wrap itself around what was happening. For the first time he was starting to realize that something was wrong around him. Stacey smiled at him and shook her head in that “can you believe these silly people?” way. He smiled back at her, and they both started to feel relieved.

Stacey was still frazzled on the inside though. After another minute or two enough people had gotten out of the aisle that more folks could enter. Everyone seemed to be trying to get the same stuff. Heavy soups, canned pastas, and vegetables seemed to be the order of the day. She took a couple cans of everything, and made sure she grabbed extra chicken and beef broth. She could always make soups out of the veggies growing in the back yard garden at the house. Finally after fighting against the current she was done, but now she had her role reversed. Now she was stuck in the aisle while a whole new group of idiots tried to fight their way in. Two blunt forces for stupidity, butting heads yet again.

She was just about to yell something when a giant man came around the end of the aisle she was near. He looked stern, resolute. Just seeing him assess the situation made her pause her second yell. He was tall, fairly handsome (if unshaven), and had an enormous shotgun in his half full cart. He seemed serious, and he seemed like he wanted in the aisle, and it was clear he wanted that now. She was instantly afraid he’d grab the shotgun and start threatening people to get out his way, but what he actually did surprised her.

He leaned over and tapped another middle aged man on the shoulder, “Dude, move. They can’t get out.” His voice was low, authoritative. Not a threat issued, but a calm statement of fact backed by the same confidence she’d heard countless times in her husband’s voice. The young man took one look up at the bigger man and without even thinking about it, he backed his cart away.
 

Stacey could see the big man had tattoos on his forearms going down to the wrist. They were colorful scenes of Koi fish, flowing water, and various tribal designs. Beautiful and scary at the same time. She was both entranced by, and apprehensive about this odd fellow.
 
After getting the first man to move he simply went to the next person and repeated himself again. The message changed slightly every time, but it always had the same simple meaning; “move.” It was the most effective and subtle use of intimidation she’d ever seen. She found herself smiling at the show of charisma. Finally one last person pushing her way into the aisle remained for him.

It was a 60ish year old woman, clearly suffering from a tragically shitty mood. She was cursing under her breath the whole time this was happening, and was pressing her cart against the back of another shopper in front of her. Just as the tall tattooed man walked up behind her, she impulsively reached over and scooped a dozen cans of food into her cart. It seemed to Stacey an action taken out of spite more than need. The tall man’s brow furrowed in disapproval as he watched her do it. By now Stacey could’ve left, but she wanted to see how this ended.

“Ma’am, can you please back away a little so the folks in front of you can get out of our way?” He leaned over gently and said it just loud enough to be heard over the din of arguing shoppers and the beeping at the checkouts.

“Go fuck yourself buddy, you’re not getting in there before me.” She snarled at him without even looking at who was talking to her.
 

The big man just smiled, stuck his hands in the front pocket of his hooded sweatshirt, and leaned in to her again. Stacey could feel his aura of intimidation almost physically flare up as he spoke again to the old lady, “Ma’am, I am
NOT
your fucking buddy. And if you don’t put some of those cans back you just scooped up, and get the hell out of the way for everyone else, I will see to it both your hips get busted right here in this aisle.” His voice was as calm as preacher’s at a Sunday wedding. That wasn’t a threat he’d just uttered. It was another statement of fact.

The old lady finally looked over her shoulder incredulous of the threat and the color drained from her face. You could see she hadn’t figured on the quiet voice coming from such a big, imposing man. She locked eyes with the huge guy, and he held firm for a moment, then smiled like a snake at her. This was a man who would do what precisely what he just said he would. The handful of people gathered nearby in the aisle all took an unconscious step backwards. The arguing died immediately as everyone waited for the old lady to respond. Time seemed to stand still.
 

She licked her lips, never breaking eye contact with the giant stranger. She coughed a wet cough, a smoker’s cough, and looked down into her cart at the cans she’d just put in the cart. She grabbed some of those cans and put them back on the shelf. Her eyes darted around shamefully and she slowly backed her cart away, freeing up space in the aisle for people to leave.

The big man nodded to the old lady in thanks, and turned towards Stacey and Tommy. Her heart jumped a few beats as he took her and her son in. Partly it was fear out of what he might say to her and Tommy, and partly out of excitement. He gave her a genuine, apologetic smile for what just happened, and then tussled Tommy’s hair. She could instantly see Tommy liked him. He was so much like his father, her husband. The big man made a show of presenting the open aisle for her exit, and he gave her a nod as they left the aisle. She looked once over her shoulder as she walked away and saw the big man was letting the old lady into the aisle ahead of himself. Despite being able to push his way ahead, he had kept his spot in line. She knew right then she liked him, and she knew he’d be just fine.
 

The rest of her store experience was much more benign. The biggest battle by far was fighting through the canned goods aisle. The majority of the other aisles were clear of big crowds. She was headed to the checkouts to pay when she realized they were low on dog food for their beagle Scotty. Scotty could and would eat just about anything, but she figured while she was here she should get dog food. A couple minutes later she was in line, and a few minutes after that, she was unloading the cart onto the checkout belt with Tommy’s help. As she chatted with her son about how awful that old lady was to that nice man she saw him again.

50 feet away down at the produce section he was standing still with his cart, clearly in a moral dilemma. He looked at the checkout lines, ten people deep, then looked at the entrance to the store, wide open. She knew what he was thinking. 45 minutes in line to pay, or just walk out? He shook his head one last time, snagged what looked like three bunches of bananas, and headed out the sliding automatic doors. She laughed out loud once at his audacity, and went back to emptying her shopping cart.
 
That seemed like a little bit of justice to her.

A minute or two creaked by in the checkout line. Incessant beeping coming from the barcode scanners in multiple overloaded lanes drowned everyone out. Even Stacey found herself standing quietly, zoning out, bagging her own groceries. Suddenly noise from outside slowed the beeping to a crawl. It was screaming. Several of the people near the exits walked over and looked out the doors and windows at whatever was unfolding in the parking lot. The witnesses stood in silent horror, several of them covering their slowly opening mouths with their hands. Stacey reassured Tommy she’d be right back and ran over to watch herself.

The man that had been hit by the minivan was sitting up in the parking lot. He was covered by an industrial blanket. One of the heavy kinds you’d use for moving. She couldn’t see his face, but the blanket was stained through in several spots with his blood. Dark red circles and splotches were all over the thick blanket. Circling his sitting form was the man from earlier. He had the giant shotgun from his cart aimed at the man. Stacey looked on in horror as he calmly kept it leveled at the victim of the car accident. No one knew what to do. She couldn’t imagine what was happening that would force the big man to shoot someone. He seemed so calm, and controlled earlier.

Just as her mind started to struggle with the idea that this stranger was pointing a shotgun at an injured man, the blanket fell away, revealing the smashed body of the victim. Everyone standing around beside her gasped in shock and horror at his appearance. His body was mangled beyond human comprehension. His torso was crushed so violently ribs were poking out of his side, ripping holes large enough for his innards to swell through. His mouth was crusted with bile and blood and his skin was ashen and pale. Something was clearly wrong with him. The young girl standing next to Stacey formed the sign of the cross and started praying fervently.

Stacey shook her head slowly, her mind refusing to make sense of what she was watching. The victim, now clearly dead in her mind, leaned over towards the large stranger and attempted to go at him. His annihilated legs failed him though, and he fell forwards, hitting his face on the pavement and spilling some of his guts out of his ragged stomach. Her attention turned to the big stranger with the shotgun. Her heart started racing in fear for him as the destroyed man on the ground started to lift himself and crawl at him.

The tattooed stranger pointed the shotgun at the head of the man on the ground, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger. The sound of the shotgun going off was still loud enough to scare the people inside the store. All of the beeping at the checkouts came to a halt.

The head of the car accident victim exploded in a giant mist of reds and browns. There was a flurry of faint thunking noises as bits of his head hit the giant window of the grocery store. His headless body fell to the pavement backwards and began oozing blood and ichors onto the ground from the many openings in it. Stacey could see the tattooed man was hit in the legs by the gore given off from his shotgun blast, but he seemed no worse for the wear. She watched him take a deep breath, assess the situation around him, and calmly walk away. He got his cart, and walked towards the back of the parking lot until she couldn’t see him anymore.

Stacey’s mind was wiped clean. She stood there motionless for some time, watching the pieces of the dead man’s head slide down the window before her motherly sense realized she could hear Tommy sobbing from the seat in the cart. She snapped to and ran over to him. She lifted him up and held him close, whispering in his ear that everything would be alright, even though she wasn’t sure it would be.

*****

Stacey left the store out the same entrance she and Tommy had used to enter it. Fortunately it was the entrance the furthest away from the decapitated man. She was thankful for that, at least for Tommy’s sake. He was going to lose enough innocence today without getting a close look at the aftermath of the earlier shooting. As she pushed her overloaded cart up the parking lot row she made a largely vain attempt at distracting her son from the body on the ground. He was staring intently at the pool of blood the body had fallen in and no matter what she said, he wouldn’t look away. Eventually she just covered his eyes with her hand, and pushed the cart faster to her SUV.

She used her remote entry fob and had the back hatch opened before she even got there. As fast as she could she got the jugs of water out and in the back of the truck along with the bags of cans and other food. The bags were very heavy though, and when she finally finished she felt like she had lifted an entire house. Tommy was facing her the whole time mostly because of the way she positioned the cart, and she kept looking at him and seeing little elements of her husband’s face there. Little Sarah was her spitting image, and little Tommy looked just like his Dad David. Too cute. His face reminded her of her husband though, and that led to thoughts of how her father in law was dead now. Apparently shot by his own good friend by request, and with her husband’s permission. She still couldn’t understand what the hell was happening.

After all the groceries were stored away in the back of her truck she got Tommy secured in his car seat. The SUV thrummed to life when Stacey turned the key, and she backed out quickly. The mother and son got back onto Main Street and started towards the house. The Moore family, Stacey, David, Tommy and Sarah had a very nice colonial style home set in the hills just outside of town. By car it was normally a mere five minute drive. Today the five minutes would be much longer.

Stacey played a driving game with Tommy on the drive back. It was one they played often in the car.

“Okay Tommy, I spy with my little eye, something big and blue!” She laughed as she started the game.

Tommy leaned forward in his little car seat and scanned the traffic around them. Right next to them at the light was a big blue truck, “Is it the truck Mommy?” He pointed his stubby little finger against the car window right at the vehicle.

“You got it! YAY!” Stacey celebrated with her son. He clapped his hands and gave a look of supreme satisfaction. The mother and son continued their silly little game the rest of the way down Main Street, and the two miles on Dove Street. Then, as she slowed to take the right hand turn onto Hill Street where they lived, they were hit head-on by a gigantic pickup truck rounding the corner.

The massive pickup was speeding considerably coming into the turn. The driver, a middle aged man who had just left his girlfriend’s home in search of her was paying little to no attention to the road. Stacey and Tommy were ravaged by the impact. In her haste to get home the mother of two had left her seatbelt curled up in the side of the car, unused. Her small frame was crushed by the pressure of the steering wheel and airbag as the front of her vehicle collapsed in on itself. It took her many painful minutes to die. Ruptured organs and blood vessels slowly emptied into her stomach cavity, suffocating her. She couldn’t even manage to turn and check on her six year old son as she bled out. Finally her body went limp, and her face came to a rest against the steering wheel in front of her.

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