Fire: The Collapse

by William Esmont

Alicia tucked an errant strand of strawberry-blond hair behind her ear and bumped the drawer closed with her hip.

  “Seventeen, eighteen, and nineteen is twenty,” she said, handing a fistful of bills and coins to the frazzled housewife on the other side of the counter. The woman shot her a grim smile and pushed her cart into the stream of people heading for the store exit.

  Alicia checked her watch. Five minutes until break time. God I need to get out of here. She glanced over her shoulder at the next cashier station. Her best friend Brittany frowned back at her and mouthed the word ‘help!’

  Four minutes. Fuck it. I’m out of here. She reached up and flipped off her light, signaling a closed lane. She spun and started walking toward the door.

  “Wait! Miss!” Despite her desire to keep walking, her responsible side took over. She stopped and turned.

  “I’m on break now. One of the other lanes can help you.” She held firm.

  “But you were open just a second ago,” the customer whined, gesturing at the light.

  “I’m sorry,” Alicia said, trying to sound sincere. She had no intention of sacrificing her precious fifteen minutes for this pushy bitch.

  Technically, she was required to take her break in the rear of the store in the kitchen area, but she wanted to spend her time somewhere a little more interesting. She waved at Dave, the receipt checker, as she breezed past. He ignored her. Dork.

  Her Subaru was in the far corner of the parking lot, out of sight of the surveillance cameras. She beeped the car as she approached, and the headlights flashed once.

  Once safely ensconced in the car, she popped open the center console, took out her iPod, turned it on, and cranked up the volume. As an afterthought, she pushed the central door lock, sealing herself in. Digging around in her backpack, she pulled out a small Ziploc bag. With dismay, she realized her pot supply was almost exhausted. The ounce she had purchased only a week before was no more than seeds and a few lonely buds. Shit.

  She broke the seal on the bag with the tip of her finger and inhaled, reveling in the pungent aroma of the remains of her Super Skunk. She reached into her backpack again and pulled out her bowl, a compact swirled-glass favorite she had had since junior high school.

  Someone rapped on her window, and she jumped in surprise. Cupping her pipe in one hand, she put on her most innocent face and peeked out, prepared for the worst.

  Fuck me. She relaxed. Brittany stood outside the car grinning like a maniac. Alicia exhaled a sigh of relief and pressed the unlock button.

  Brittany slid in beside her. “Thanks. Can you believe the crowds today?”

  With a noncommittal shrug, Alicia locked the doors and retrieved her pot. She chose the plumpest bud from her bag and crammed it into her bowl. “Sucks in there.” She lit up.

  Brittany eyed her. “It does. I couldn’t take it anymore.”

  Alicia snorted, smoke jetting from her nose in twin streams and passed the pipe. They spent the next ten minutes smoking and refilling until only shake remained in the baggie, and they had run out of things to talk about. Alicia laughed to herself.

  “What?” Brittany asked, tapping the ashes of the bowl into an empty Diet Coke can.

  Alicia shook her head. “It’s nothing.” She checked the clock through heavy-lidded eyes. Three minutes until her break was over. Her life was supposed to have started by now. Instead, here she was, stuck in this shitty Costco in Tempe.

  “Are you ready?” Brittany asked, shattering Alicia’s reverie.

  “Sure. I guess.” She wasn’t. She could spend all day out here.

  She stuffed her pipe and the empty Ziploc into the bottom of her backpack, tucking them under a spare pair of panties. “Okay. Let’s go.”

  The girls got out of the car, surrounded by a billowing cloud of smoke, and began the long walk across the hot parking lot. As they neared the front door, Alicia stopped and took Brittany by the elbow. “Do you ever think about leaving here? I mean…”

  Brittany gave her a puzzled look. “Not really... Why? What’s wrong?”

  Alicia shuffled her feet. “I’m just…tired of this place.” She looked at the ground.

  Brittany laughed. “You’re moody because you’re stoned. You always get like this.” She had a point. Brittany arched a perfect eyebrow. “Are you going out tonight?”

  Alicia shrugged. “I don’t know. It depends—”

  Brittany cut her off. “Call me if you do. I want to get out for a little while.”

  “I will.”

  They entered the store and went their separate ways. Three more hours, Alicia thought with a pained expression.

  Three