We walked through the store and I said thanks to Mr. McGregor, and I
was glad he was with a customer just then, because I could see Kim and
Steven right out front sitting in the Chevy, waiting for us with the
top down. A suspicious-looking bunch of New Paltz cousins.
"Clan Thomas, Steven Lynch and Kimberley Palmer."
"Kimberley."
She wiped her hand on her shorts, a nervous, birdlike movement. Then
she held it out to me and I took it. It was tiny and delicate, and
very smooth and dry.
Steven smiled at me and nodded and gave me a slightly too-firm
handshake. We got into the car. It was a tight squeeze. I glanced
back over my shoulder at Mr. McGregor.
"Could we get out of here, please? Fast?"
"Sure thing."
He floored it. I couldn't help wincing. I pictured Mr. McGregor
rushing to the window, watching four kids in an antique convertible
fishtailing out of his parking lot. Already I was wondering what
sort
You had to yell over the howl of the wind.
"Where to?" I asked them.
Casey's breath was warm in my ear. "The beach. But first we want to
stop at Shop "N' Save. Pick up a few things."
"Fine."
Steven switched the radio on and turned up the volume, and after that
there was no possibility of talking at all. His long slim fingers beat
time against the steering wheel. I could smell Casey's perfume in
sudden gusts, a clean smell, with nothing sweet or musky about it. Kim
looked back at us from the front seat and smiled. The smile was
crooked, but the teeth were white and dazzling.
We pulled into the Shop "N' Save lot, and all of us piled out. Casey
reached under the driver's seat and pulled out a green book bag with a
long strap and slung it over her shoulder.
"Get us a couple six-packs, will you, Clan? Steve, see if you can find
some decent crackers this time, okay?"
Steven held the door for us, smiling, then flinched at the blast of
cold air. I was the only one dressed for the air-conditioning. They
always overdo it in these chain stores. You could keep corpses back
there and they'd never decompose. Both girls were wearing shorts and
halters, and Steve had on what I came to know as his usual gaudy
Hawaiian-type short-sleeve shirt. With the thin white linen slacks he
looked prosperous and trendy and very cold.
I went for the beer.
I had to do some digging for the Heineken dark, so by the time I had
that and the two six-packs of Bud to the checkout stand, Steve was
already there ahead of me, paying for two boxes of crackers. "See you
outside," he said, shivering.
I paid for the beer, and as the girl was packing it up for me I saw Kim
step into line in back of the woman behind me. She had a large loaf of
french bread under her arm and some butter and was smiling at me in a
strange, uncomfortable kind of way. Then I saw her eyes move along,
following something behind me. I turned around.
around for another set of chocks, I damn near took her head off with
the lift blades. If the manager had seen her there that close to me
I'd have lost the job then and there. I turned the thing off and
climbed off it.
"They fire you for disemboweling a customer."
"What customer? I'm your cousin from New Paltz. Your aunt my mother-
is over at the house and probably she's dying. Her last wish is to see
her sister and her favorite nephew. You've got the day off. It's all
fixed. I didn't even have to ask for it."
"Huh?"
"He said I could tell you just to go home for the day."
"You assume a lot, you know that?"
"Sure I do. You mad at me?"
The way she asked me, it was a serious question, nothing coy about it.
If I thought she'd gone too far, then she wanted to know. I liked
that. Even though I had the feeling that my answer was not going to
make or break her afternoon either way.
"I'm not mad. It's too hot for this stuff anyway. Let's go."
We walked through the store and I said thanks to Mr. McGregor, and I
was glad he was with a customer just then, because I could see Kim and
Steven right out front sitting in the Chevy, waiting for us with the
top down. A suspicious-looking bunch of New Paltz cousins.
"Clan Thomas, Steven Lynch and Kimberley Palmer."
"Kimberley."
She wiped her hand on her shorts, a nervous, birdlike movement. Then
she held it out to me and I took it. It was tiny and delicate, and
very smooth and dry.
Steven smiled at me and nodded and gave me a slightly too-firm
handshake. We got into the car. It was a tight squeeze. I glanced
back over my shoulder at Mr. McGregor.
"Could we get out of here, please? Fast?"
"Sure thing."
He floored it. I couldn't help wincing. I pictured Mr. McGregor You
had to yell over the howl of the wind.
"Whereto?" I asked them.
Casey's breath was warm in my ear. "The beach. But first we want to
stop at Shop "N' Save. Pick up a few things."
"Fine."
Steven switched the radio on and turned up the volume, and after that
there was no possibility of talking at all. His long slim fingers beat
time against the steering wheel. I could smell Casey's perfume in
sudden gusts, a clean smell, with nothing sweet or musky about it. Kim
looked back at us from the front seat and smiled. The smile was
crooked, but the teeth were white and dazzling.
We pulled into the Shop "N' Save lot, and all of us piled out. Casey
reached under the driver's seat and pulled out a green book bag with a
long strap and slung it over her shoulder.
"Get us a couple six-packs, will you, Clan? Steve, see if you can find
some decent crackers this time, okay?"
Steven held the door for us, smiling, then flinched at the blast of
cold air. I was the only one dressed for the air-conditioning. They
always overdo it in these chain stores. You could keep corpses back
there and they'd never decompose. Both girls were wearing shorts and
halters, and Steve had on what I came to know as his usual gaudy
Hawaiian-type short-sleeve shirt. With the thin white linen slacks he
looked prosperous and trendy and very cold.
I went for the beer.
I had to do some digging for the Heineken dark, so by the time I had
that and the two six-packs of Bud to the checkout stand, Steve was
already there ahead of me, paying for two boxes of crackers. "See you
outside," he said, shivering.
I paid for the beer, and as the girl was packing it up for me I saw Kim
step into line in back of the woman behind me. She had a large loaf of
french bread under her arm and some butter and was smiling And there
was Casey, walking out the front door easy as you please. From the
look of the green book bag, she'd stuffed it with apples and
watermelon.
I lifted my own bag and walked outside. Casey had already gotten in
the back, and Steven was starting her up. I handed her my bag and she
looked at me. The pale blue eyes were sly and humorous.
"You don't approve."
"I don't disapprove, either."