by J. Thorn
I walked away before Robinson could respond. I’d hoped he’d stand there and think about what I’d said. Instead, he followed me to the car.
“What’s going on?” Peaches asked. “Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking back at Robinson.
“Jimmy, can you open the trunk,” Bowser said. “I need to get my pack.”
“No, it’s okay. We’ll give you a ride. You don’t have to walk.”
“I just need to get something before we go.”
I went around and opened the trunk for Bowser. He grabbed his backpack and opened the main zipper compartment. I feared he might pull out a big bag of weed, or worse, a gun. And after I had done all that great work buttering Robinson up. But all he took out was a white envelope. He walked over and handed it to Robinson.
“What’s this?”
“See for yourself.”
Robinson opened the envelope and looked inside.
I prayed it didn’t contain anthrax.
He stared at the contents of the envelope for a moment, and then looked up at Bowser. “Do I need to count it?”
Bowser shook his head. “Nah, it’s all there.”
“Not much good it’ll do me now.”
“I know. But still … I thought—”
“It’s a start,” Robinson said.
“What is it?” I asked. “What’s in the envelope?”
Robinson pulled out a bunch of twenty-dollar bills. Ten or fifteen of them. “The money he owed me.”
“From the NBA finals?” Robinson nodded. “Wow, that’s a lot of money to bet on one game. You guys might have a gambling problem.”
“It was six games, actually,” Robinson replied. “And it was what we did back then, right?”
“Yeah, it was,” Bowser agreed.
Robinson smiled and put the money back in the envelope. “Gonna take a lot more than that to earn my trust. But it’s a good start.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me,” Robinson said. “Thank Jimmy. He fought pretty hard to get me to let you stay. He obviously sees something in you.”
“Maybe you will too.”
To this, Robinson said nothing. He shoved the envelope in his pocket and walked around to the trunk of the car. “Now let’s get your stuff inside. I’m starting to get hungry again.”
Robinson had a fairly old ranch-style house from the looks of the outside. The inside, however, looked brand spanking new. He said that it hadn’t been so nice when he’d bought the place a few years back, and that he’d only recently finished remodeling. He had done a damn good job, too. There were tile floors in every room except for in the bedrooms, of which there were three. New stainless steel appliances in the kitchen. New paint on the walls, those not covered in wooden paneling. Even much of the furniture looked new. After we finished bringing the stuff from the car, including my grandma, who we carefully set down in one of the guest rooms, Robinson led us out back to show off his new deck. It was about the size of the bookstore. Maybe a little bigger.
“Nice view,” Peaches said.
The deck stood about six feet off the ground and looked out on an expanse of large trees that had to be much older than the house.
“Thanks,” Robinson said. “I just got this finished. I thought it would be a nice place for me and Jax to sit and unwind, huh boy?”
Jax, a four-year-old German Shepherd, just looked up lovingly at his owner and wagged his tail.
No doubt tired of hauling Olivia around, Peaches sat down at the covered patio table.
I was inspecting the grill. “Is this where you work your magic?”
Robinson smirked. “Yeah, you’ll see. Oh that reminds me. I need to see what I’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, after scouring the kitchen for ingredients, it was clear that what he had wasn’t much.
“Oh well, we need to make a trip to the store anyway,” Robinson said. “The sun will be going down soon. We’re gonna need lots of candles. Maybe we can locate a generator, though I’ve never used one before, so I’m not sure how to hook one up.”
“It probably has directions,” I said.
We sat down in the living room with pen and paper and made a list of things to get at the store. When we were done, the list contained over two dozen items; some very specific like a bassinet for Olivia, others much less specific, like canned food. There was no point in bringing grandma along for the ride, so we let her continue to sleep in the guest room. Jax, Robinson’s loyal four-legged companion, would stay behind to keep her company. The rest of us loaded into Robinson’s police car—Bowser in the front passenger seat, Peaches, Olivia, and I in the back—and headed off to the Super Walmart about eight miles southwest of Canaveral Groves.
When we reached the outer limits of the store, we realized immediately this trip wouldn’t be as painless as we first thought. On a normal day, navigating through a Walmart parking lot could be a nightmare. People walking every which way, not the least bit concerned with being hit by a car. Kids running far ahead of their parents. Kids lagging far behind their parents. Cars running stop signs, climbing curbs, parking sideways, fighting over handicap spaces.
Today, though…
Today was on a totally different level.
Living on Florida’s east coast all my life, we’d experienced our fair share of hurricanes, and far more than our fair share of hurricane scares. You know, those storms that look like they’re coming right at you and then at the last minute take a quick turn. No matter how many times it happened, people would always rush out to buy supplies like the apocalypse was coming. This time, the apocalypse had actually come, and it made even the legitimate concerns of an inevitable hurricane landfall seem miniscule in comparison. Forget the midnight crowds on Black Friday; this was easily the greatest car clusterfuck I’d ever witnessed.
“Jesus Christ,” Robinson said. “There’s no way in.”
Cars blocked both entrances to the parking lot, as well as the grassy median between them. Every parking spot and every parking lane was filled. Even if we had Doc Brown’s flying DeLorean from Back to the Future, the only place left to park would be on the roof of the building.
Robinson pulled the car as close as he possibly could and then shut off the engine. “Hope nobody has a problem with walking.”
“If the outside of the store looks like this, I can’t imagine what the inside looks like,” Peaches said.
Five minutes later, after a brisk walk weaving between parked cars, none of us would have to imagine any longer. We had to stop to take it all in, and to not step on someone.
People.
Everywhere.
As far as the eye could see. Down every aisle. At every register, even those that were self-checkout. At customer service. At the pharmacy. Even at the vision center of all places. And guess what else we saw.
Shopping carts.
Everywhere.
Loaded to the brim with all kinds of crap. The cart well, however, was completely empty. If we didn’t want to carry everything around, we’d have to first do some unloading.
After I’d finished cleaning out a nearby cart, I realized one of the wheels was fucked up. “I’m not surprised,” I said, looking at Peaches. “But it’ll have to do.”
We decided to take different parts of the store. Robinson and Bowser would get the groceries while Peaches and I would go after everything else. The worst part was finding open lanes to push the cart through. Did I mention there were people everywhere? Face up, face down, lying all around. On occasion, Peaches would have to help me drag someone out of the way. It was embarrassing for them. The best part, besides the fact that everything in the store today was FREE, was that just like the hospital, Walmart had a backup generator, which meant we could still enjoy the soothing sounds of Lady Gaga broadcasted over the speakers while we shopped.
It took some time, but we found just about everything on the list, minus the generator. In fact, the best place to s
earch wasn’t the shelves (which were often wiped out), but the other shopping carts. Had we been so fortunate to find a cart that contained everything on the list, we could have been back at Robinson’s house already eating dinner. As it was, Robinson and Bowser finished before we did, which wasn’t surprising given that we had more ground to cover.
“No generator?” Robinson asked as we met him back at the front of the store. I shook my head. “Ah well, as long as we got candles we’ll be fine for now. I’ve heard horror stories of people setting their houses on fire with those portable generators anyway.”
I nodded. “But no one’s ever set their house on fire with candles.”
Robinson sighed. “Smart ass.”
We pushed the shopping carts through the metal maze outside back to Robinson’s squad car. We loaded the smaller items into plastic bags before transferring everything to the trunk, and then headed back to Robinson’s house. While we were shopping, the sun had decided it was time to set. The sky was a dark blue, and getting darker by the minute. By the time we reached Canaveral Groves, the only light around was from the car’s headlights.
“Who wants to help me with dinner?” Robinson asked.
“I’ll help,” Bowser said.
“I’ll help too,” Peaches said.
When I didn’t say anything, Peaches looked over at me. “What?” I finally said.
“Are you gonna help, Jimmy?” she asked.
“I could, but I’m not much for cooking, unless you need something microwaved. I’ve never even used a grill before.”
Robinson laughed, turned his head back to us, and said, “You leave the grilling to me.”
And that was all it took, that little turn of his head, enough to take his eyes off the road for just one measly little second. Enough to kill the mood in the car, and possibly someone outside the car.
They flew up onto the hood, hit the front windshield, and then rolled off the side. Unlike what you might see in a movie, the front windshield did not crack.
“What in the fuck was that?” Robinson yelled. He slowly pulled the car to a stop.
“We hit somebody,” Bowser said.
We all looked out the back window to see if we could see anyone, but it was too dark.
“Somebody? You sure it wasn’t an animal?”
“It was definitely a person,” Bowser replied.
Robinson turned the car around and very slowly headed back down the street. He stopped when two people appeared in the headlights. One of them was lying on their side in the road, the other leaning over trying to help. Robinson put the car in park, and we all jumped out.
As we approached, two sounds shut out all others. The painful groaning of the man on the pavement, clutching at one of his legs, and the crying of the woman hovering over him.
Robinson kneeled down beside them. “Are you okay?”
The guy, maybe mid-thirties and Hispanic, was wearing blue jeans and a white tank top. There was a rip in his jeans around the kneecap. I could see blood beginning to soak into the fabric around the edges. The woman, also Hispanic, had jeans on as well, with a black lacy top, but not a drop of blood on her.
“You hit him. Why’d you hit him?” she sobbed.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t see him,” Robinson said. “What was he doing in the road?”
“We were heading back home,” she said. “We took a shortcut.”
“Fuck, my leg,” the man whined.
“Can you move it, honey?”
“I don’t know. I think it might be broken.”
“Did you hit your head?” Robinson asked.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Got some cuts on his shoulder,” Bowser said.
“I think I landed on my shoulder.” Both of his arms were heavily tattooed. “Doesn’t feel as bad as my leg though.”
“We need to get him out of the road,” Robinson said. “We can’t do anything for him out here.”
“Can’t take him to the hospital,” I finally interjected.
“Would you mind coming back to my house? It’s just down the street. I got some meds and first aid stuff that might be able to help.”
“Whatever you can do,” the woman replied.
“Bowser, help me pick him up,” Robinson said. “We’ll put him down in the backseat.”
I was hurt that Robinson didn’t ask me to help. Then I remembered that I weighed about one hundred and forty pounds soaking wet, and that Bowser could probably throw me across the street using only one arm.
Once they’d safely transferred the wounded man to the car, Robinson drove him and the three girls, Peaches, Olivia, and the crying Hispanic woman, down to his house at the end of the block. Bowser and I had to walk the rest of the way.
“Shit just got crazy,” Bowser said. “Robinson fucked that guy up.”
“I wouldn’t tell him that,” I said. “I bet he feels really bad about it. Especially since we can’t get the guy any real medical attention.”
“True.”
Without power to the streetlights, the road was so dark I could barely see Bowser walking beside me. He just blended in. I doubt it was the same for him. I probably looked like Casper the Friendly Ghost. Up ahead, the red of Robinson’s brakes lit up the dark momentarily, then disappeared. They had reached his house. Not much further for us to go.
“It’s been one terrible day,” I said. “I still can’t believe everything that’s happened.”
“Man, I thought I was gonna die in that cell,” Bowser said. “And I’ve been shot at, stabbed, you name it. But I was never worried about dying … was just part of living. But today all that changed. I got scared today. Real scared. And I ain’t never been so glad to be alive.”
I smiled. “Well, I’m glad we could share this moment together.”
“Shut the hell up.”
When we made it to Robinson’s house, Bowser once again helped carry the wounded guy. I took on the greater responsibility of bringing the stuff we’d stolen from Walmart into the house. After putting Olivia down in her new bassinet, Peaches went around lighting candles in most of the rooms. Robinson and Bowser set the wounded guy down on the couch. Then Robinson ran off to look for some medical supplies.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
He stuck out his hand. “Diego.”
“Nice to meet you. My name’s Jimmy.” I shook his hand. “And you are…?”
“Luna,” said the grief-stricken woman sitting next to Diego.
“Nice to meet you too. Sorry about all this.”
Robinson returned a minute later with a small box full of random first aid supplies. Ointment. Bandages. Cotton. Adhesive tape. Rubbing alcohol. And then began carefully examining Diego’s knee. Jax came up beside him, nosing around like he wanted to help.
“I’m not a doctor, as you can probably tell by the uniform. But they do teach us a few things.”
“Gracias,” Diego said.
I left them and went to check on my grandma. Surprise, surprise, she was right where we had left her. I stared down at her in the guest bed and lightly touched her face. Still warm. Still breathing. I hated checking on her like this. I always assumed the worst, even though it was necessary. Heck, at her age, I wouldn’t blame her if she just gave in and gave up. She had lived a long life, given so much, loved so many. This was no way to go on living.
“Grandma, if you can hear me. I want you to know I’m okay,” I whispered. “You don’t have to worry about me. I made some friends. I’ll be fine. I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I never told you, but I always thought of you as my mom. And I hoped you thought of me as your son.”
No use trying to hold back the tears. I let them flow. I needed the closure, and so did she.
“You can go now. You’ve earned the right. You’ve earned your wings. Go and be with Grandpa. I’ll never forget you. I love you.”
Chapter 24
After drying my eyes, I headed back out to the living room. Diego
was still on the couch with Luna. He had his bad leg propped up on the coffee table. Peaches and Bowser were in the kitchen prepping dinner.
“Where’s Robinson?” I asked.
“Outside getting the grill started,” Bowser replied. He was rubbing some sort of glaze on the ribs they’d got from the store. Jax was beneath him, licking his chops and smelling the floor for fallen food.
Peaches was pulling apart corn stalks and then soaking them with butter, getting them ready for the grill. “Where’d you run off to?”
“Nowhere. I was just checking on my grandma.”
“How is she?”
“Same, I guess.”
Out on the back deck, Robinson was checking the settings on the propane tank with the help of a high-powered flashlight Peaches and I had snagged from the cart of a comatose customer. The five candles Peaches had set up on the patio table didn’t provide much light beyond a short radius.
“How’s it coming?”
“Fine,” Robinson said, turning one of the knobs on the tank. “Just getting this thing warmed up. Got my worker elves going at it in the kitchen. Did you see?”
“I don’t know if I’d describe what they were doing as going at it, but yeah, I saw. How is Diego doing?”
Robinson stood up and lifted the grill lid, felt for heat. “His knee got cut open pretty bad. Had to bandage it up. Hope it doesn’t get infected. He also has some significant bruising up and down his leg that’ll take some time to heal. I gave him some leftover prescription pain meds I got after having a tooth pulled last month. Don’t know how much those will help, but they were the strongest I could find in the house.”
“Is his leg broken?”
Robinson shrugged. “Don’t know. I don’t have X-ray eyes, sorry to say. I hope not. I feel horrible about it. They’re gonna eat dinner with us. I even told them they could stay the night if they wanted.”
