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Let Me Hold You Down
Bobbie stood behind the front register watching him strut in through the front doors. Those baggy clothes she thought, that dragged on the ground giving the floor a good sweep, and the ratty old belt that kept his jeans exactly below his ass. So unlike her own professional-looking pressed khakis and dark green polo.
He walked past her, hiking up his pants so that he was able to move and she gave him her recycled smile. But as soon as his back was turned she crossed her arms and glared at him.
Probably here to steal something. She shook her head. Either that or his buddies will follow him in and cause trouble: destroy the shelves or use the handicapped vehicles again. Last time him and his buddies had paid a visit they had raced down the aisle on those motorized carts, their girlfriends hanging off the front or back, screaming at them to go faster and faster. As if a motor that was made to only go a maximum of five miles an hour could suddenly leap to sixty or seventy simply because they made enough noise. Those girls threw up their hands, pretending to have the time of their life while the guys strained over the handle bars, their faces contorted in order to get to the finish line first. She grimaced, remembering the noise they had caused. The same night, if she remembered correctly, that she had a pounding headache and only wanted some peace and quiet.
The guy walked quietly down the third aisle, strolling along as if he had nothing better to do. Slipping out from behind the counter she causally walked in his direction. On her way she grabbed the manager’s clipboard, so that if anyone asked she was simply checking inventory.
Bubba, she thought, his name finally coming to her; at least that was what everyone called him. What a stupid name. Made him sound like he had no education, like he lived in Hicksville. She chuckled to herself. In fact, he lived in the exact opposite of Hicksville. According to her family, he stayed in the ghetto part of town, the worst area on the face of this earth. It seemed that every other day somebody was getting murdered down there. And if she was right, he and his friends were most likely the ones firing the shots. As least that’s what the newspapers claimed.
She cocked her head to the side. Wasn’t he arrested only a year or two ago? If she remembered right, a couple of his buddies had been messing around at some bar and when the police came on a noise complaint, found them all drunk and underage. She remembered hearing whispers in the school halls that Bubba had taken the rap for it all and was taken in while the rest of them got to go sober up at home. How stupid, she thought, now his record was ruined and all because his friends didn’t know how to hold their liquor. Bubba did it because one of his friend’s family was dependant on the guy, her best friend had told her in a hurried whisper, and they would have been on the streets if he had been put in jail. But her only response was that that kid should have thought about his family before drinking his problems away.
Bobbie followed Bubba as he made his way over to the magazine aisle. She was surprised as he walked past the large and provocative Rolling Stone and instead picked up a Teen Disney magazine. The front cover pictured the newest Halloween costumes for young girls. It brought last year’s Halloween to mind, when Bubba and his friends had stopped at her house for candy. She and her father opened the door and dropped the candy in each bag while they all screamed a dirty version of trick or treat at the top their lungs, seemingly oblivious to the fact that they were only a few inches away. As Bubba made his way to the front of the group she has asked him, if her memory was still intact, where his costume was. He was dressed in his usual extra large jeans and baggy t-shirt, despite the chill in the air.
I don’t have enough money to waste on a costume, so I thought I would be myself. Most people think I’m scary enough to hide their kids behind them when I’m around, so I thought it would fit for tonight.
But she only brushed off his sarcastic response as she usually did whenever he spoke.
Bubba left the magazine aisle and made to turn left. Thinking of cutting him off from the other way, Bobbie ran down the opposite lane, almost running in her haste to see what he was up to. She made an immediate right into the cereal aisle expecting to see him at the other end but it was empty. Confused, she followed it down, trying to decide which way to turn. As the end cap came into view though she rushed the turn and instantly crashed into somebody.
“I’m sorry ma’am,” came a slow voice.
Bobbie looked up into Bubba’s large, kind eyes. Startled, she attempted to smile but her lips barely twitched. As she bent down to get her fallen clipboard, so did he. Next to it however lay the magazine and….
“Is this yours?” she asked. In her hand she held a pink birthday card.
Bubba smiled and took it from her.
“It’s for my little girl.” He picked up the magazine. “And so is this. She’s already three, can’t believe it.” He shook his head in pleasant disbelief. “She used to be my biggest regret, but now she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Bobbie simply stared, not sure yet how to react.
“Here, I think this is yours.” He handed her the clipboard.
“You’re Bubba, right?”
He smiled at her sheepishly. “Call me Earnest; makes me feel smarter than Bubba does.”
She nodded while he continued to give her a serene smile.
“Are…are you the cashier tonight? Only ‘cause I think I’m ready to check out.”
She hesitated, her heart thumping a sporadic rhythm against her chest and her mind going just as fast.
“You can take it, just take it… please.”
Bubba gazed at her, confused.
“Nah, I can’t do that…”
She pressed the card into his hands.
“Please.”
And he left, doing exactly what she originally thought he came in there to do.
~ Tayler Cole