by Tiana Laveen
“Well, I’m sorry for the inconvenience sir, but that’s Texas’ Temporary Assistance for Needy Families policy for the EBT card. That’s not something I just thought of or am trying to impose. If I were the one in charge, I would definitely allow condoms to be on the list but—”
“You ain’t even the manager. I wanna speak to tha manager!” He pointed down at the ground as if he were standing on the rock of Gibraltar.
“Actually, sir, I am a manager. I’m new here. I’m Sonny’s niece and he—”
“Man! You can get condoms fuh free!” a big Black guy dressed to the nines barked from the back of the line. “Put that shit back, pay for the goddamn beer, and move yo’ ass on out tha line!”
“Who tha hell are you talkin’ to?” Orangy faced him with his hand on his hip.
“I’m talkin’ to you! First we had that ol’ lady lookin’ for shit in ’er purse for umpteen years now here you come wantin’ to argue wit’ the cashier ’bout some shit she ain’t got nothin’ to do wit’. Don’t nobody up in here give uh fuck about you tryna get lit and get yo’ pink willy wet!”
Laughter and screaming ensued as the place became chaos incarnate.
“Boy! You need to mind your business!”
“Who you callin’ a boy? You can’t even pay for your own damn rubbers and got tha nerve to be callin’ me a boy, boy! See, you White folk kill me wit’ this shit! Talkin’ ’bout we tha ones on welfare all the time. I ain’t on government assistance; I ain’t got two pennies to rub together half tha time but I work for mine!”
“You should! You owe us! It’s y’all and that Affirmative Action bullshit and the damn Mexicans takin’ all the goddamn jobs. I been outta work for months ’cause of them! Us White folk are the ones that brought your Black asses outta that hell hole ya call Africa! A real man would appreciate the ones that helped him!”
Oh… shit… no! no! no!
“A real man can buy his dick warmers or at least be smart enough to tarry his ass down on to tha clinic and get a handful fuh free, you dumb son of uh bitch! Now say somethin’ else!”
Yasmine shook her head and leaned into the cash register as the two really went at it then. She felt her cellphone buzzing on her hip and she needed to piss in the worst way. She glanced down at her phone and saw a text message from her fourteen-year-old son. He probably had just gotten in from school.
She sighed heavily and slipped her phone back in the pocket of her light blue jacket with the company logo and her name written across her heart, double stitched. Minutes later, Rick was helping to bag packaged pork chops, cans of black beans, frozen corn on the cob, and cartons of orange juice. The day went on, her bladder grew fuller, and when the final customer had been rung up, she darted to the back of the place, yanked down her pants and underwear, and about screamed from sweet relief. The small stall was covered in silly home-drawn cartoons and on the floor sat a little plastic trash can full of Lord only knew what.
After flushing the toilet, she made her way to the sink and washed her hands. As she was drying them off, the phone vibrated once again. She yanked it out and read a text from her ex-husband…
“Fucker!”
She sucked her teeth and dumped herself back into the groove of things. A woman with two small children was waiting in the line while Rick did nothing but laugh and snort as he cradled his phone in the palm of his hands.
I’m surprised he even knows how to work that thing…
She logged back into the register, took a deep breath, and threw on a mile-wide grin.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, ma’am… thank you for your patience…”
CHAPTER TWO
Special Delivery
…Several weeks later
LANGSTON SAT IN the large UPS truck and parked it. This was his second to last delivery for the evening, then finally, he’d be saying ‘home sweet home.’ Tipping his bottle to his mouth, he chugged the last bit of his homemade protein smoothie with baby spinach, banana, and a few secret ingredients he refused to tell anyone. The hearty green, sweet liquid slid down his gullet, feeling so good. After draining the last drops, he noisily smacked his lips, savoring the last of his special concoction. It had been a long day of deliveries.
He’d accepted another guy’s shift who’d fallen ill. Not that he’d felt like it but his damn bills were definitely down for it and the money was right on time. He sat there for a spell and looked at the red, white, and blue neon lights of the small grocery store. Typically, this place had their own delivery trucks, but with the Halloween season drawing near, as well as Thanksgiving and Christmas, more orders came in for candy, stocking stuffers, and corny props, things of that nature. On a sigh, he jumped out of the vehicle and made his way to the back of the truck.
After loading three large boxes filled with sweet treats onto the dolly, he walked inside the American Market Grocery Store. The air conditioning was a sweet relief, hitting his clammy flesh like a kiss from an ice queen.
It smells nice and clean in here. They always keep this store so nice.
Heading to the front counter, passing a few customers rolling their buggies along the way, he noticed a woman standing there, her back turned towards him, leafing through some magazine. The grocery store was rather quiet, with the exception of some light music drifting from the speakers, specifically the instrumental version of ‘Gangsta’s Paradise.’ It sounded rather silly to him.
“Excuse me, ma’am. I have some deliveries to drop off tonight.” He cleared his throat, desperate to get the woman’s attention so he could get back on the road. She flipped to another page of the magazine and paid him no mind. Perhaps she was hard of hearing? “I went over to the back of the place first but nobody came out.”
The woman slowly turned in his direction, and one of the prettiest women he’d ever seen now glared at him. She wore a blue smock that did her no justice. Her skin reminded him of the midnight Milky Way candy bars—smooth, dark, and divine, with not a flaw, blemish, or pimple in sight. Her long, jet black hair was pulled into a ponytail, exposing high, chiseled cheekbones, a long elegant neck, and small pearl stud earrings on dainty ears.
“I’ll sign for ’em.” She grimaced as she slid her magazine off to the side and extended long and slender fingers toward him, the nails painted bright blue and shiny, long and curled like glossy talons.
“How do you type on the cash register with those?” He pointed at her hands.
“Easily.” She took the electronic signature box from his grip, scribbled her name, and handed it back. He looked down at the thing, barely able to make it out, but that was nothing unusual.
“Jasmine England?” He asked with a raised brow.
“Yasmine English. Thanks for dropping them off. Do you mind moving them over to the side here for me, outta the way?” She pointed towards the other side of the store. “I’ll unload them after the store closes.”
“All right, no problem.” He looked at her from head to toe, then ran his hand slowly down his shirt.
“You all right?” She snatched her magazine up and began to flip through it again. Just then, a couple teenagers entered the store speaking Spanish. He acknowledged them with a nod, then turned back towards her.
“Yeah, I’m fine… and so are you.” He grinned wide, only to have the woman smack her teeth and roll her eyes before turning her back to him once again.
“I don’t come in here too often, maybe once, twice a month… I never seen you in here before. I mean, this town ain’t exactly huge, so, uh, I think I’d remember you. You’re new, right?”
“Yeah… haven’t been here too long.” She didn’t lift her head from the magazine.
“I see.” He crossed his arms over his chest and rocked back on his heels. “I definitely would’ve remembered you. So, uh, do you like to—”
“Do you need some help movin’ the boxes?”
“Why? You plannin’ to help?” He chuckled as he caught her hint and got to moving. The woman didn’t respond as h
e rolled the dolly over to the other side of the place, next to a display of Hostess cupcakes. “It sure feels good in here!” He loaded the boxes onto the floor. “Whew, buddy, it’s hot outside!” He swiped at his forehead with the back of his hand. “Here we are mid-October and it’s still in the 90s.”
“Yeah… they said it’s been unseasonably hot this year,” she mumbled as she placed the magazine back down, picked up a bottle of what looked like lemonade, and took a sip.
He drew near once again and watched how her full lips wrapped around the rim.
“We don’t get many Black folks ’round here.”
She sighed and shook her head.
“Well it’s true, we don’t.”
“Now what’s that supposed to mean? You go from talkin’ about the dog days of Summer that won’t let go and allow Autumn to reign and then wanna bring up me bein’ Black? Get outta my store.” She waved him off, her expression twisted as if she’d swallowed something bitter and wished to spit the shit out.
“I ain’t mean it like that!” He laughed. “Sun, heat, tans ’nd shit… that came out wrong. I was just, uh… admiring your pretty skin is all. I mean that sincerely. It’s perfect. You’re real pretty, that’s all I meant by it.”
She hesitated for a moment as if she wasn’t quite yet buying what he was selling.
“Well, thank you.”
Just then, the teenagers approached the register with a basketful of junk foods and frozen pizzas. She began to ring up the items so he moved back, but not too far away. After a while, the teenagers were gone and the place was almost empty, except for a couple of people. He grabbed a pack of sugarless gum and slapped it on the conveyer belt. She looked at him for a spell, real suspicious like, then rang it up.
“That’ll be $1.39.”
“All right. I thought it’d be like .99 cents though. Must be inflation,” he joked as he reached into his pocket and pulled out two dollar bills to hand to her. Before she could pull away, he gently took her hand. “Yasmine, can I take you out sometime?” She wiggled her hand free and with a smile, tossed his gum in a little plastic bag, which she handed to him.
“All you can do for me is deliver my items and take yourself on about your way. I’m tired, all right?”
“Why you so mean? Damn… All I did was come in here, deliver your stuff, pay you a compliment and engage in a lil small talk but you’re just vicious. You need to come with a warning label. Ain’t no ’cause for it. I haven’t even done nothin’ to you.”
The woman cocked her head to the side and placed her hand on her hip.
“Let me explain something to you, all right? The store is about to close, I got to do inventory and lock up. I been up since five this morning. I got another cashier that called in late ’cause she was out drinkin’ all night and the other one called in sick when I know damn well she’s wit’ the one that was drinkin’ all night, all right. But they both think I’m stupid which is far from the truth and one of ’em, though I can’t prove it yet, been stealin’! The stock boy ain’t worth a damn dime but he stays ’round ’cause my uncle got him a young thang and that’s her son so that’s money bein’ thrown away ’cause he don’t do nothin’ but stand around gettin’ in the way.
“That money could be goin’ to somebody who can actually help ’round here. Then, after dealin’ with the cast of ‘Dumb and Dumber’, I gotta pray over my car every mornin’, afternoon, and night like I’m Muslim and need to face in the direction of Mecca, on my knees three times a day like breakfast, lunch, and dinner, the Holy Trinity in full force in hopes that that hunk of metal gets me home in one piece and don’t fall apart on the way to and fro. The last thing I need is for that damn thing to break down out here and I get robbed or worse! It ain’t safe out here in the daytime, let alone at night, and if you think anyone is goin’ to give a flyin’ shit about a Black woman, single mother, age thirty-one goin’ missin’ out here in Nowheresville, you got another think comin’!”
“But all I was sayin’ was—”
“Then I gotta go in my house tonight and try and fix me and my son a bite to eat, argue with him about not doin’ his homework, listen to how he hates Elsa and wants to head back to Dallas. All while I read a bunch of bullshit ass text messages from my ex-husband harassing me about how many eggs and loaves of bread I got in my refrigerator and crackers in my pantry closet and what did I do with the child support check, all before I start this entire sordid, miserable day all over again, so no, sir! Excuse me if I ain’t really in the mood for any small talk, ain’t exactly all cuddly and friendly wit’ you, ain’t bringing forth any happy go lucky vibes, flirtin’ wit’ the likes of you and whatever it is you think you’re doing right now, okay?”
She jetted her finger in his direction, her eyes steely slits of anguish and disgust. “The only thing that needs takin’ out right about now, Mr. UPS Man, is my trash out back this store.” She pointed to the rear of the place. “It’s piled up high as a mountain out there and needs picked up and tossed in that big stinkin’ ass bin and guess who has to handle that, too?! Yours truly! So, if you’ll excuse me, it’s almost quittin’ time and I’d at least like to be in bed by 4:00 A.M. so that I can have an entire hour to dream and regret the damn day I was born.”
She grabbed the microphone and brought it close to her mouth.
“Good evenin’, everyone. The store will be closin’ in five minutes. Please make your final selections and bring them up to the checkout. Thank you for shopping at American Market Grocery Store. We appreciate your business…”
YASMINE WALKED OUT back in the darkness; well, almost darkness, with the exception of the stream of light from two flickering bulbs. Every single white and black trash bag, beat up crate and broken-down box was tossed in the large garbage bin. She stood there in shock, her hands on her hips.
It musta been him…
After she’d given that UPS man a tongue lashing, he went on his way without another word, or so she’d thought.
Well, it ain’t miraculously clean itself up and throw itself away… This was all filled back here. Now there it all is in the bin. Isn’t that somethin’? She shook her head and smiled, feeling now a tad bit sorry for how she’d laid into him. It wasn’t her typical nature, but the new job was beating her to death. Uncle Sonny wasn’t taking any of her suggestions—if he had, things would be running like a well-oiled machine. He was barely there now that she was manager; he kept saying he trusted her. But trust wasn’t enough. She needed support and wanted to revamp the store but he wouldn’t hear any of it. She sighed and went back inside to lock up the back. Everyone was gone, including Rick, but he left an open bag of potato chips on the ground, a sure treat for rodents to come have their way with the place. Snatching the half empty bag up off the floor, she tossed it in a small trashcan in the corner then made her way to the office, where she placed the money in the safe and locked it up for the morning deposit. Then, she grabbed her jacket and slid it on, but not before ensuring all of the aisles were clean of debris and everything was in its proper place.
When she got to her car, she found a Slim Jim with a bouquet of flowers tied to it under her windshield wiper. She drew closer, picked it up, and looked at the little handwritten note attached:
Yasmine –
I took the Slim Jim from the store but put a dollar on the counter to pay for it. You probably noticed it after I left but didn’t know where it had come from. The flowers were from a delivery where the woman didn’t want them and made me take them back. That happened earlier today… some baby daddy drama, she said. I thought you might want a snack on the ride home and this was the only car back here, so I figured it was yours. I’m sorry that you had such a bad day. I wish I could have made you smile. Maybe I can try again another time?
Good night,
Langston
She stood there holding that note, and began to shake… and then laugh. She laughed so loud, she startled herself, and then her eyes welled with tears of relief. Weeks o
f frustration had come upon her. She had no voice—hadn’t shouted or made a scene. It was a pain not being listened to by a boss, being yelled at by one’s disgruntled son, being blamed by an ex-husband, being played for a fool by subordinates, and not being appreciated one damn bit. She didn’t dare tell her boy, but she missed Dallas, too. She missed her mama and her daddy, as well as her sisters.
They weren’t terribly far away, but it was a drive she couldn’t risk in her car. The damn thing had barely made it when she moved and Daddy was too old for such a thing and Mama didn’t know how to drive to even meet her halfway. She missed her friends and the company she’d worked her ass off at to crawl through the ranks. She’d given up a good job at the bank for this… and for what? At the time it seemed like a good idea, regret now flowed through her veins just as much as her very own blood. Uncle Sonny had called talking about needing help, and after the divorce and all the changes that entailed, she took him up on his offer to assist, with promises that one day, the store would be hers to run how she saw fit. It was a brand new opportunity, a ray of hope.
Besides, removing Noah from the city had seemed like a good idea at the time… but now she second guessed herself, every second, every minute, every hour of the day. Still, she held onto a skinny ray of hope. She had to, for there was nothing else left. In the interim, however, she was destined for resentment. She’d had no idea she’d one day feel like this, all twisted up inside, conflicted. Tonight, she’d burst open like old western saloon doors on the poor UPS driver—and what a handsome bastard he was—wanting to inflict damage and make someone, anyone, finally remember her name.
And he did… spelled it right, too… How sweet.
It had been a long time since anyone had done something like that for her, thought of her in a way that made her feel like a woman, a true lady. She opened her creaky car door and bit into the Slim Jim, tossing the flowers onto the passenger’s seat. And then she prayed just like she said she would as she turned over the engine. It came alive, and she sighed with relief.
