12oz. Six Pack
Mark didn’t come to the store yesterday. We all wondered where he had gone. It wasn’t like him. We had always seen him.
Have you ever had a friend that you saw every day? Felt like every day. All of the sudden it’s cut off and it feels like time stands still. At least for a while. Then you keep doing pretty much what you were doing. But still wonder.
He had a weird Mom.
She used to bitch at him a lot. He had to run errands for her all the time. 13 and on the bike. Run errands and get the fuck out of there. I didn’t blame him.
She had an agreement with the local super market. She would call up there and tell the manager she was sending him up to the store to get her a six pack. Amazingly they let them do that. Did it often.
Once he rode up to get the beer. Well his mom only drank one brand, Old Milwaukee. He went in to get it. This was years ago when Old Milwaukee sold three sizes of cans of beer for some reason. There were 12 oz., 14 oz., and 16 oz. to choose from. Well Mark figured it would be nice to get her the 14 oz. beers for a change. That way she would get more for her money. He was certain she would be pleased. He paid for the booze and rode home with it.
When he got home and showed his Mom the crafty purchase he had made she went ballistic. She bitched at him for not getting “her size”. He had tried to explain he was trying to do a good thing and save her some money but she just bitched and bitched. She demanded he ride back up there and get her the right size. The 12 oz. He was shell-shocked and rode back.
When he got back to the store he went in and told the manager he had gotten the wrong size. Puzzled the manager let him exchange the beer. Mark was numb with embarrasement. He had to see these people every day. He rode home, gave his Mom the beer and without a word she took it, went to the sofa and watched Dallas.
After she had had about five and a valium she was nice again. Things were cool now and tomorrow was Saturday. Things were going to be better soon. It was so hard for them. He realized he was wrong, so terribly wrong to get the 14 oz. beer that day. She looked so content now, and happy. Mark decided when he gets old enough, beer is going to make him happy every day too.
Mark came back to the store a few days later. He got the six pack and I noted that his Mom hadn’t made the inevitable preemptive phone call. He mentioned she had been busy and sent him out in a rush. We sold it to him anyway. He was such a good kid.
The calls are less frequent now but I still see Mark every day in the supermarket. Getting the beer. Getting the 12 oz.
I like when things stay the same.
The Day I Was Gone
Heat hit early.
I’m sticking to the seat again.
Drive is wet and I can taste the smoke. I am a desperate plea for help lately. Got to get out of the car.
Everything is coming down around me and I don’t look the same. Feeling different is tolerable and accepted. But looking different?
The mirror is showing someone tired. Someone without desire, beaten. Car mirror. Closer I look, the farther I am away.
I just got out and walked across that field they cleared for the subdivision. They never built there so it was a tad overgrown. It just looked like a nice place to be…..gone. Someone once had grand ideas for the land. Probably someone before that. I could relate. There wasn’t shit there now.
What were the others thinking? As they watched me go. They could join me. I advocate this type of behavior. Leave, walk a while and just sit down. Someone finds you and you say you just had to give it all a rest.
Gone is good right now. I see you all going by on the way to somewhere and here I sit. In this field. Fire ants biting my nads. But it beats being you.
It beats just about everything.
Tatooine
It embarrasses me that I know how to pronounce the word Tatooine at the drop of a hat. I blame a fucked up former coworker.
The building was huge and cavernous. Seven floors. Empty. We were the last business there. The survivors. What we did for a living was unimportant. We were the third shift. The four of us.
Jeremy had problems. He had problems that were in his brain. Funny, he was drawn to Star Wars. He read Harry Potter at work. Imagine that.
Jeremy was thirty years old.
He showed Everett Tatooine one day.
He begged and begged. Please come up to the third floor and let me show you. I finally have found it. I found my place now. Weird guy wanted Everett to go upstairs. I immediately thought, homosexual encounter. Everett must not have because he went. Or either he was homosexual.
Upstairs they went and when they got there Jeremy showed it to him. “This is it,” he said. “This is my dream.” They gazed on the expanse of a huge empty floor of cubicles and high ceilings. Barely lit. Overlooking the alcove and court yard in the middle of the building that was as tall as all of the floors. It was nothing to note. To me it is alone. To Everett it was concern. He was concerned at the fact that he was up here way away from us with a person we all considered psychotic. Unease for Everett. Yes unease.
Jeremy told Everett, “I’ve wanted this for years.” “This is Tatooine, it is a place from the Star Wars saga. Are you familiar? I have looked for years and it now makes me whole. I haven’t been too comfortable before but now, now it is all okay. No one ever wanted me and now this place does. Will you share it with me? You can be Boba Fett, I can be Luke. We never have to leave. I can lock the doors and they will never find us. No one is looking for us and no one knows I am alive.”
Everett pointed in the other direction and said to Jeremy, “Hey isn’t that Lando Calrissian?" Jeremy turned to look and Everett sprinted away and down the stairs.
Now it is just three. Us three. We can constantly hear Jeremy up there screaming. Smashing fluorescent light tubes. Throwing chairs and file cabinets off of the balcony. He is in his place but the racket is driving me fucking bats. I hope he moves to Alderan soon.
