by Peter Butler
The doctor's endorsement that Jacquelin was indeed a stupid woman had not, unfortunately, been enough for Larry's stomach to settle down and he wondered if he needed to make another appointment, maybe some extra drugs were required. Indeed, it was still rumbling at this very moment.
As he passed the white letterbox shaped like a tiny real house with the number fifty-four displayed on the front Larry flicked on his indicator to make his normal left turn into Troutman Road. This house was the exact legal distance from the intersection that drivers were required to indicate their direction of turn. Larry stopped and carefully adopted his ritual of looking twice to the right and twice to the left. On both head turns to the right Larry could see a bank of multicolored flashing lights in the distance. Police and other emergency vehicles were seemingly blocking Troutman Road, about a half-mile away. Maybe this was the truck crash or the meteor strike that had disrupted his morning so terribly by denying him his precious water. He was already late for work but this development was too important to ignore. In a totally out of character decision he impulsively swung the Transit van in the opposite direction to the one he had indicated and took off towards the mayhem, chiding himself for his poor behavior as he sped away.
As he neared the heavy wooden road-blocks that stretched across the width of the road, a policeman walked in front of his vehicle and held his hand up indicating Larry should stop. It was a no-brainer as the road was completely blocked with the barrier and behind it numerous vehicles that were attending to whatever had happened, so Larry willingly complied, pulling off to the side of the road.
The cop walked towards him, winding his hand around in front of his body, indicating that Larry should unwind his side window.
'I'm sorry, Sir, the road is blocked. You'll need to turn around and go back to the next left, that's Stevens Avenue, then another left at Chism Street and yet another at Richmond Road. That'll get you around this section and bring you out about half a mile further up Troutman.'
'What is the problem here, officer?'
'It's really bizarre, sir. The ground in the middle of the road, just up from here, has suddenly subsided. It's a sink-hole, they estimate to a depth of about twenty-feet and it's taken out a major water pipe. They've had to shut off the water supply to the entire area. Thank God it happened early in the morning and nobody seems to be too effected by it.'
'You think?' was all Larry could bring himself to say about the cops stupid assessment of the situation. Larry's facial expression was telling the officer something, but the man had been distracted by some noise and activity back in the direction of the trouble.
'Well, we haven't heard of any problems that needed our attention,' he added, glancing back to Larry as he picked up his sarcastic tone.
Larry chose that moment to push the cop for his request. 'Mind if I hop out and have a look, Officer? I wont get in the way. Just want to see what left me all soapy in the shower this morning.'
The cop grinned back at him. 'I guess that's the least we can do for you, Sir,' he said, intensifying his inspection of Larry, undoubtedly looking for soap suds behind his ears.
Larry nodded his thanks, climbed out of his van and began walking towards the bank of vehicles that shielded the hole.
'No closer than the nearest car, Sir,' the cop called to him.
Larry waved his acknowledgment over his shoulder without turning. He threaded his way through the maze of police cars, fire trucks and maintenance vehicles until he had a clear view of the problem. A section of the road and sidewalk was missing, it looked like a giant creature had stomped on the ground, forming a near circular hole that was now filled with water. Police, firemen and a team of workmen stood around and watched as two men, both with ropes tied around their waists, fed a large hose deep inside the pool of water, then one of them gave a shout to someone Larry couldn't see. 'Okay, Bill, hit it!'
A motor started up from somewhere on the opposite side of the hole to Larry and the pipe the workmen had hold of gave a shudder and then settled in to a constant pulsing vibration. The men left it on the ground and quickly retreated.
Larry watched as the water level inside the hole slowly began to drop away as the water-pump sucked it up, spilling it out further down the road and allowing it to run harmlessly down the hill to the next storm water drain.
Larry edged closer to the hole to try and peer into it.
One of the workmen noticed what he was doing and called out and gestured urgently with his hand, 'Stay back, buddy! That is a sink-hole, we have no way of knowing how stable the area around it is. It might give-way without warning at any moment.'
Larry stopped and immediately moved back to the line of cars. He remembered seeing vision on TV of these things swallowing whole houses, including anyone who was unlucky enough to be inside them. They never found the people, it was too dangerous to dig to find the bodies.
Larry drove on to work, feeling slightly grateful that the sink-hole had only left him covered in soap. He now had the added worry that the area he lived in was prone to these terrible things - he recalled there was another one a year or so ago in a nearby suburb. It seemed fate was constantly thinking of different ways it could kill him. Thank goodness his brain was more than capable of dealing with them.
Because he had so many unexpected interruptions occur this morning he was now six minutes late for work. This, in spite of his decision to forgo his breakfast coffee in an effort to return to his time schedule. Unforgivable. He would stay back an extra six minutes and tidy some shelves to make amends.
***
The large sign with ornate, flowery lettering from an era long gone, read "Rafferty & Son. Hardware & Lumber. Since 1934". It hung over the front entrance which still looked exactly as it did in 1934, the early sepia photos displayed inside the door of a group of people standing outside the unchanged entrance, next to an early model Ford pickup with timber loaded in the back, verified it. The main showroom was a single story brick building about two hundred feet wide and one hundred feet deep. The ornate brickwork along the street frontage featured eight large windows, all with circular arches on top of a double, split rectangular pane inside a wooden frame. The main recessed doorway sat in the middle of the building. To the right of the main showroom a small access alley ran all the way to the rear of the property, to the left of the building sat the lumber yard, also about a hundred feet wide. It was accessed by its own direct driveway to allow patrons to fill their trucks or pickups directly from the covered racks of milled timber.
Inside, the main showroom was divided into separate areas; close to the entrance were bathroom and laundry fittings, a large paint section sat to that areas right, a smaller area displayed hand tools, including shovels and axes, and fed into the racks that contained the nails, screws and other fasteners. Power tools occupied a large area towards the front-right of the shop and here, near a display of chainsaws, stood a group of four men all wearing the same outfit: chambray shirt and denim jeans held up with an ornate silver buckle. "Rafferty & Son" was embroidered on the pocket of the shirt and stamped on the belt-buckle for good measure, in case any eyes drifted that low.
'I heard on the radio they shut down Troutman Road cos a large sink-hole opened up last night,' Herb Drinkman said to the other three employees. 'Maybe he fell in it?'
'He leaves home at 8:45 every morning, Herb, they would have blocked it off by then if you heard it on the radio this morning,' Jerry Squire offered with a wry smile.
'He's already three minutes late, so he'll be in quite a state,' Travis Crisp added his thoughts to the mix. 'Unless he's dead or injured,'
'Especially if he's dead or injured,' Jerry grinned at him. Of the three men who had commented, Jerry considered himself to be the smart one. He was next in line on the power totem-pole to Larry Rafferty. He had given himself the unofficial title of "Assistant Manager".
The forth man, who up to this point hadn't said a word, had been at the top of that totem-pole for most of his life. '
You fellas mind not talking about my boy like that,' Eli said in a casual way. Eli Rafferty was Larry's eighty-two year old father and contrary to popular opinion was not the Rafferty referred to on the sign out front - he was the "Son", making Larry the son of the son. He was used to people commenting or kidding about Larry's social differences and inadequacies, but jokes about his demise were a step too far.
'Sorry, boss,' Travis and Jerry said in unison.
Eli accepted their apology with a nod and looked away, drifting back to whatever had been occupying his thoughts before he had come to the defense of his absent son. Eli had handed the family business over to Larry nine year ago. Retirement had sounded attractive; endless days of fishing, drinking and playing poker with his buddies. Uninterrupted long walks with time to ponder his life and enjoy nature. Sadly, the reality was, he didn't really like fishing and walking. Drinking too much made him go to sleep and his buddies were terrible, boring poker players. That left him with daytime soap-operas and weeding the garden to fill his days. Two weeks after his retirement Eli was back at work, this time as a sales assistant who kept flexible hours.
A loud noise came from the front of the store as an attractive bottle-blond, with features that rarely found their way to the average customer of this hardware store, came bustling through the main door with a small boy in tow - the source of the noise. Herb was the fastest to react and darted off with a stupid surreal grin on his face to offer his assistance.
'You stop your yelling, Hadleigh,' the blond's voice carried clearly across the store. 'We're not getting your father a box of chocolates for his birthday, he wants a drill and that's what you get to give him.'
'I wouldn't mind helping her out with a drill,' Travis snickered to Jerry who raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes.
'That's the problem with today's kids,' Eli said, shaking his head in disapproval, as he watched little Hadleigh subtly, but noisily, make his case for chocolates. 'Kids aren't being taught the meaning of no. The little bastard just takes it as the beginning of the negotiation. In my day that sort of behavior would have seen that woman's boot planted on his fat, pampered little ass.'
'That would have been doubly painful,' Travis added with a laugh, 'Given that her boots are stilettos.'
Hadleigh took his argument to an even louder level and the woman glared at him more intently. The virtual tug-of-war ended when she abruptly turned to Herb who had arrived at her side and smiled sweetly, she said something to him and nodded curtly. Hadleigh clearly had the ability to hear at the same time as he screamed because he suddenly reined in his make-believe tantrum and fell silent. The blond grabbed his hand, a little more aggressively than necessary, turned and they both headed for the door.
'See what I mean,' Eli said in exasperation, 'that family's being run by a six year-old brat, and the parents will one day wonder why he's grown up to become a useless, unemployable adult.' Eli lifted his voice up an octave or two, mimicking the woman, and added, 'We don't understand why Hadleigh grew up to become a mass-murder, he got nothing but love and kindness from Billy and me, we gave that boy everything he wanted!' Then he dropped his voice back to normal, and answered his own unstated question - 'Except a proper example to follow.'
'Geez boss, you getting enough fiber in your diet these days?' Jerry asked.
'For Christ sake, Jerry, it's not me being bitter and twisted. Open your eyes and look around you, the worlds going to shit in a sack and everybody is just accepting that it's "normal".' Eli made the little quotation marks with his fingers as he said normal.
Herb rejoined the group and Travis laughed, 'How many drills did ya sell Blondie, Herb?' .
He smiled back. 'She decided chocolates were a better idea.'
'A better idea than listening to the little bastard's screaming,' Eli drove home his point.
The other three nodded in agreement. 'You're right boss, it's a different world now,' Jerry offered. 'But it's not all bad, some things are much better now. Sure, things are more expensive, but there's a lot more to choose from. Life's good if ya got a dollar in your pocket.'
Eli gave them a sly, conspiratorial look. 'When I was a kid, I could go to the store with just a couple of coins in my pocket and come home with heaps of candy and comic books, maybe even a toy or two.'
Travis looked surprised. 'No way you could do that now.'
'That's the truth,' Eli agreed with a big grin, 'Too many bloody security cameras.'
The burst of laughter from the four men had the heads of the handful of customers turning, and brought Mavis Kratz scurrying over, a look of disappointment on her face at missing out on something funny. Mavis was the only female employee at Rafferty's and she hated when she was excluded from any male humor. It was never intentional from the men's part as Mavis was more than capable of making a sailor blush with some of her comments.
'What did I just miss out on, boys?'
'Nothing Mavis,' Herb calmed her down with a shake of his head, 'The boss was just pointing out the difference between kids in his day and kids today.'
'You referring to that little shit, the bleached tart just brought into the store?'
'Yeah,' Travis agreed.
'She gets my vote for "Mother of the Year",' Mavis said with more than a hint of sarcasm. She turned her attention to Eli and led him slightly away from the group, then began whispering in his ear. After a few moments Eli put his hands up, like he was surrendering to Mavis, and said, 'Not my area anymore, Mavis. You need to take it up with Larry when he gets in. I'm just one of the boys here, now.' Then he added with a grin, 'Just like you, Mavis.'
Mavis made an exaggerated look of disappointment, shook her head and walked away muttering to herself, leaving Eli to watch her departure and ponder the woman's sudden mood swings.
The vast majority of Rafferty's customers were rough-looking, sometimes tattooed, stubbly cheeked males, the recent departure of a certain blondish customer had started a spirited discussion on to the subject of celebrity boobs and ass between Herb, Travis and Jerry. Herb was adamant that Beyonce was the clear winner, the other two were debating the virtues and finer points of Scarlett Johansson, Cameron Diaz and Jennifer Aniston.
Eli rejoined the group and listened patiently to the pros and cons of each contestant. Then he interrupted, a look of bewilderment all over his face. 'But... what about Liz Taylor?'
Blank looks greeted Eli. 'Who...?' three voices asked.
Before Eli could elaborate a loud piercing scream echoed through the shop. The four men all jumped at the suddenness of it and looked questioningly at each other; perhaps Blondie was outside, mercifully murdering little Hadleigh with one of her stilettos. Or, vice-versa.
'That came from the alley,' Jerry said, and rushed off towards the front door to investigate. The others quickly followed with Eli coming a distant forth.
Larry's transit van was parked in his usual spot just down from the entrance to the alley, beside the store. As Jerry rounded the corner of the store and rushed towards the white van he saw Larry standing in front of it. He was staring at the side wall of the building. His hands were on the side of his head and his mouth gapped, frozen in shock after completing the scream. Larry's whole body was trembling like a mini-earthquake was happening inside him, as his well organized life unwound even further, before his eyes.
FOUR
Emily Kane was walking away from school, surrounded by four friends all around the same age. She wore her trademark miniskirt - today in buttercup yellow with orange zigzags running down its tiny length. Emily was laughing at something one of the girls had said as she reached into her bag and extracted her phone. She looked at the screen and shook her head, clearly not interested in the information or name it was displaying.
'Zac, again?' One of the other girls asked.
'Like a bad rash,' Emily answered. 'Just when you think you've gotten rid of it it reappears somewhere else.'
'I can remember a time when that particular itch was one you were more than happy t
o scratch in all kinds of places.'
'That was before I found out he is a narcissistic pig who thinks he can resolve every situation with his father's money.. and his own fists.' Emily slipped her phone back into her bag and took a moment to readjust her skirt and straighter her belt.
The other girls all resolved to look up "narcissistic pig" the next chance they had.
'Do you have any idea what it feels like to have someone you care about suddenly punch you in the face? And all over nothing important.' Emily instinctively rubbed her cheek where the bruise had been. 'I had to tell my parents I walked into a street sign to explain the lump. I don't think they believed me but I knew it would just make huge trouble for everyone if I told the truth.'
'We agree, the guy's a jerk and whatever brand of pig you called him,' Desi, the girl walking beside Emily agreed.
'If he ever tries to hurt me again, in any way,' Emily added in a serious tone, 'he'll regret it. Really regret it!'
The girls walked in silence for a short distance and then Juni, who was walking furthest out from Emily said in an equally serious tone, 'I've never had a guy hit me,' then changed her tack and added with a cheeky grin, 'but I have been spanked... And I didn't tell my parents about that, either.' She burst out laughing and the other girls, including Emily, joined in.
All five girls were in the same year as Dillon and were attractive in different ways but Dillon's eyes seemed to filter out the other four, dispatching them to an insignificant periphery. When Emily burst out laughing Dillon found his face smiling in response to her mood change. He dropped his eyes and admired her tanned legs as they came towards him. He followed their soft, graceful lines up to her tiny miniskirt that barely covered anything, the little orange zigzags looked like lightening bolts to him and he felt a similar jolt run through his body. Emily's tight fitting blouse emphasized her figure which bounced ever so slightly as she walked. Dillon had already filed that information into his memory and was now happily adding to that database.
