Just Needed Some Food – A Short Story

Stepping off the bicycle, Rachael unlocked the chain she kept wrapped around the top tube. She walked the bike the few remaining steps to the bike rack and looped the chain through the metal bars. The combination was set to the code for opening the lock, so she rolled the four dials randomly, setting the lock. Satisfied the bike was secure, she stepped towards the old grocery store.

“I really miss grocery shopping,” she said to herself as she pushed open the door. Just ten years ago she came to this exact store for food and hated it. Grocery shopping always seemed so boring, and a waste of time. There were other more productive things she could be doing with that time. She enjoyed cooking, but that was creative. Grocery shopping was just… time-consuming.

And yet, now, she would have given anything to shop. Sure, the media still referred to it as “shopping”, but it really wasn’t. Everyone had a fixed amount they could spend. Almost anyone, rather.

“I wonder what I’d have to do to be one of the special ones,” she sarcastically wondered to herself. She knew the answer, but it was hard to admit, even to herself. And it’s not like she was going to do it.

Rachael picked up a basket from the front of the store and walked through the aisles. She didn’t even bother with the produce, since it was guaranteed to be either insanely expensive or nearly rotten. When she’d picked up some potatoes to make fries last month it took her entire week’s allotment. But it was for Stella’s birthday, and it was worth it.

At 7, Stella was just beginning to show signs of being like Rachael. After all, as her daughter that made sense, but it was fun to see. Rachael smiled as she thought of the little girl’s passion for life, which seemed to be in such stark contrast to the heavy depression most of the world wrestled with. Putting a can of evaporated milk into the basket, she thought of Stella’s training from the week before.

Rachael had just begun teaching Stella some self-defense. She did her best to keep the mood light and shield her daughter from the importance of the education. The world had changed, rapidly, and it was likely that Stella would need the skills, sooner or later.

Clink

Rachael put a couple of bottles of apple juice in the basket. They cost more than she wanted to spend, but the kids needed to have something with a few vitamins in it. As expensive as it was here, she wondered what people were doing in parts of the country where there weren’t orchards. Expensive as it was, she felt fortunate they had access to fresh juice, in glass bottles, no less.

Then she snapped her attention away from the near-empty shelves. Loud voices were coming from the front of the store, near the checkout. The single register was just out of sight, around a corner, but Rachael could tell something wasn’t right. She heard two distinct voices now, and they were clearly arguing about something. This wasn’t good – the security guards at the store were often heavy-handed, and sometimes just kicked everyone out if it got too rowdy. They seemed to enjoy that power.

“Please, no,” Rachael said quietly. An older woman overheard her and realized what she was lamenting. The older woman made an acknowledging half-smile, shrugged, and continued to study the back of two cans of vegetables.

A loud tone came over the speakers in the ceiling, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Your attention please. Due to a disturbance at the front of the store, everyone is to step outside immediately. Leave your baskets where they are.”

“Great,” Rachael thought. “I really did have better things to do today.”

It wasn’t that this would take terribly long – though it did sometimes. It was more that she didn’t like waiting outside with tensions so high. Inevitably, the person who caused the problem would be waiting outside with the rest of them, angry and frustrated. And it didn’t take much prompting for that tension to turn into a problem.

Putting down her basket, Rachael followed the one-way signs on the floor up to the front of the store, heading outside. The store employee was flanked by two security guards holding rifles, both of whom looked put out by the process. Rachael was following a tall, blonde man out the door, and into the parking lot.

It was funny that they still called them parking lots, but habits were hard to change. So few people drove anymore that there were more bicycles than cars on the roads. Not that there were even many bicycles. Most people stayed inside as much as they could.

Rachael considered just unlocking her bike and going home, but she’d still need the food tomorrow, and there was no guarantee there’d be any. Best to wait for a bit and get it today. She started mentally running through her list of needs and wants when she heard an all-too-familiar sound.

“You’re the reason we’re standing out here?” It was the blonde man, and he was talking to a smaller man. They were both middle-aged, the blonde man maybe 6 feet tall and the smaller man about four or five inches shorter. But what he lacked in height he made up for in girth and had medium-length, brown hair partially covering his eyes.

“No, the stupid putz at the scanner is why we’re out here. He cut up my card.”

“What did you do?” the blonde man asked, sarcastically.

“I didn’t do anything. I came to buy food, just like the rest of you.”

“You must have done something.” Chimed in a third voice. It was the older woman Rachael noticed earlier.

“No, I just came in to buy my food like the rest of you.” The man was clearly getting agitated.

“Uh-huh. You must have done something. They don’t just cut up cards for no reason. “ The blonde man seemed to be enjoying this exchange.

“I overheard the clerk say his card was flagged for subversion.” This was a new voice, a younger woman, maybe 25. She clearly took pride in sharing the information.

Rachael was getting concerned. The group outside seemed to be the perfect recipe for a problem. She didn’t want to be part of it but still wanted the food. She was just making up her mind to leave and try again tomorrow, the safer choice, when the smaller man pulled out a knife.

“That’s a lie! I’m not subverting anything!” he yelled.

Rachael couldn’t tell who moved first, maybe it was at the same time. Regardless, the two men were soon within inches of each other. The blonde man grabbed for the knife while the smaller, brown-haired man alternately pulled the knife back and then half-heartedly stuck it out.

“STOP!” she yelled at the two and, for a second, they did. Unfortunately, that was when the larger man saw his chance and tackled the smaller man. The next few seconds were a flurry of limbs, and Rachael couldn’t tell who was who.

Then she heard the smaller man scream. He let loose with a guttural cry of pain as the larger man stood up, revealing the knife plunged fully into the other man’s chest. Onlookers stood, open-mouthed as the scene was revealed. It was bad. Anyone could tell the man was going to die, there was just too much blood spreading, too quickly. Rachael gasped.

“Hey, who yelled Stop?“ Asked the blonde man. A few fingers pointed Rachael’s way. “Thanks,” he said “I appreciate the help.” As he spoke he stepped closer to Rachael, blood on his hands and some even on his face. He walked with the swagger of a John Wayne-type, but the look on his face wasn’t that of a stereotypical hero. He had a smirk, as if he’d enjoyed what just happened. Rachael was fairly certain he did.

“That was exactly what I was trying to avoid.” She said.

“He was trying to kill me.” The man said, with a blend of sarcasm and offense.

“That’s not what I saw. Not at all.” Rachael was getting nervous. She should have gotten out of there when she could.

By now he was directly in front of her. Part of her wanted to run, but she didn’t – standing her ground, despite the anxiety welling up in her stomach.

“I’m curious, then, what did you see?”

As he smiled again, Rachael could smell the rot on his breath. She knew the smell, and it reminded her of her ex-husband. This man was under the influence of something, some sort of drug. So she knew reasoning with him wasn’t going to work.

He continued looking at her, cocking his head and leaning his head forward, slowly. Rachael saw the expression on his face and wasn’t sure if he wanted to kiss her or bite her nose off. Regardless of his intent, she had no desire to let it play out.

SLAP

Rachael’s right hand found the man’s throat. Open-handed, she connected the space between her thumb and forefinger with his trachea. She moved fast enough that she wondered if she’d even thought about doing it. It seemed to just… happen.

Stunned, the man brought his hands to his throat, reflexively. Rachael took a small step forward, putting the toes of her right foot behind the man’s left heel and shoved him. Down he went, still holding his neck. His head cracked against the pavement and he laid there, groaning. The bystanders started to step back, some began to run away. It was then that Rachael looked up and noticed the two security guards watching the scene. Rachael had no idea how much they’d witnessed, but it was clear they were no more likely to step in now than they had been before. They were paid to keep the store safe, and anything that happened outside was beyond their job description.

Some of the remaining shoppers were now speaking to each other. Some pointed at Rachael and whispered. Her instincts told her to get out of there. Now. The blonde man started to move a bit and she heard him cursing as she backed away towards her bicycle. Looking over her shoulder she saw there was no one near the bike rack. When she got there, she quickly unlocked the bike and hopped on. She didn’t even take the time to reattach the lock, instead holding it loosely between her right hand and the handle grip. She pumped the pedals and started to ride away. A few seconds later she heard the blonde man screaming at her, threatening to do horrible things.

“I might need to find a new store.” She said aloud as she took the first turn, hiding herself from everyone’s view.

Check out more from Jeremy Lesniak on Martial Journal.