"The Aisle" - (chapters 7, 8 & 9)

Chapter 7

     Not everything on Beth's list was for today's celebration. She needed a few personal things for herself as well. Recently, as in the past five years, Grandee had become a tad bit incontinent, if there was such a thing. Mostly, its either you are or you aren't, but Grandee insisted the affliction was only temporary, thus, not officially the case. She wasn't fooling anyone though, especially Beth, who was the one to get the necessary supplies at the store.
     Aisle eight, with the household items, baby supplies, and personal hygiene products was a regular destination for Beth. She stopped two thirds of the way down the aisle, on the left, where they displayed the “Depends Undergarments for Mature Men & Women.” The available stock was meager compared to the selection at the larger stores, but there was enough for now. This was the one item that made Grandee seem old, and Beth couldn't imagine wearing them. She normally bought these at the Super Stop & Shop, where you could get a discount on a caseload. But she had forgotten to get some on her last trip there, so she needed a small supply to get through the week.  
     She looked up and noticed the large number of the darker, blue packaging. She craned her neck to get closer and read the label.
     "Depends Undergarments - Large - For Men". The thought itself made her want to chuckle, but the picture was what made her actually do so out loud. It seemed that the drawing on the package, an older man proudly wearing his diaper, was very generous in its interpretation concerning the gentleman's privates. "How absurd," Beth thought. Trying to make this person attractive and desirable, and ignore the fact that he pees in his pants.




Chapter 8

        Stan didn't notice the person approaching, as he mindlessly adjusted the various cans of corn. He didn't even realize someone was standing next to him, until he heard that familiar clearing of the throat; the coughing, whimper type guttural tick that his least favorite employee did regularly. Stan adopted his most pissed off face, so he would be prepared to deal with this rude interruption; then he lifted his head to stare right at the end of a shot gun barrel. “Screwball,” as Albert was not so affectionately known, stared straight at Stan with the same distain that Stan always used for him. Stan adopted a new expression; a mix of confusion, anger, and disbelief; with a good bit of fear mixed in as well.
     "Hi Stan. Whe...where's Hales?" screwball stuttered, his posture displaying a bravado most atypical.
     "Wha...uh...uh...ut?" Stan stammered back, mockingly.
     "Where's Hales? I need to speak with him." Screwball shifted, like a gunslinger, waving the barrel a bit for affect. No one said anything for a very long second. Then Stan broke the silence.
     "What the fuck is wrong with you, screwball?" Stan used the nickname it a little too often, which no doubt contributed to Al's resentment. Stan wasn't the most sensitive guy; or the most sensible. This wasn't the best time to antagonize.
     Al smiled. He pitied Stan. A bitter man who never made much of himself, and took out his anger and frustration on the rest of the world. He was pathetic; one whose callous nature would wreak havoc wherever he went.
     "You really have cracked this time, haven't you, screwball?" Stan taunted, glaring at Al with an angry face. "And what the fuck is that?" he said, jutting his chin out at the gun.
     Al shouted at Stan. "Listen, you prick, I've had it with your arrogant bullshit. I'm looking for Hales, and either you tell me where he is, or I'll just find him myself."
     Stan, who was sitting on a plastic milk crate, shifted sideways so his body faced Al. Not knowing what to do, Stan immediately tried to bully his way through. He was good at that; coming on strong with nothing to back it up. In reality, he wasn't all that tough, and was known to back down easily. Regardless, it did not seem sensible to rationalize with this person by making demands, taunting with judgments, and tossing out insults.
     Stan spoke slowly, calmly, and clearly. "Listen you dumbshit, chicken ass, motherfucker. I don't know what you think you're doing, but you're buyin' yourself a whole shit load of trouble talkin' to me that way. If that ain't a toy, which it probably is, you're too much of a spineless motherfucker to use it. Now you just turn around and get right the fuck out of here before I kick your ass up and down this aisle."2

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      Beth couldn't believe that the “Depends Undergarment” company would attempt to do something so ludicrous. Maybe it was the light or her vision was going, or something. In order to make sure she was seeing what she thought, she needed to look closer at that package. She grabbed the edge of the top shelf, put her foot on the lowest shelf to step on, and reached to the upper shelf area where the larger style Depends were stacked. She didn't want to knock down the pile, so she had to reach up to the uppermost package; the one on the top of the stack. She pushed up on her toes, stretching every part of her body, and reached, fingers extended to the highest point.6

     Stan’s anger and overly arrogant demeanor prevented him from responding properly to Al's question. Sometimes Stan could be such an ass.  7

     "Don't fuck with me today Stan. Now where's Hales," Al repeated, fully expecting Stan to continue being the jackass he usually is. Stan’s lip snarled. He slowly raised his arm up, and flipped the bird right in Al's face; then shook it bit for emphasis. He straightened his arm a little, turned his hand over, and using the extended middle finger as a pointer, he said "take that toy out of here, and shove it right up your ass, you dumb shit motherfucker."8

     Al screwed up his face. He wanted to blow this jerk's head right off here and now, but his sense of reason, whatever was left of it, made him decide otherwise.9

"You don't think this is real?" Al shouted. Stan just stared, not sure what to think. "You don't think this is real" Al said again, his face in a total snarl. At that, he turned the gun to his right, pointing sideways a foot from the products on the shelf, and fired.10

     Beth was yanked away from the shelves. It was like an earthquake had just hit, with the full effect loaded into one big bump. The shelf unit seemed to break, and her left hip was kicked by something. She flew back into the air, as a roaring noise made the moment even more confusing. As if shot from a canon, her body rocketed back, crashing into the shelves on the other side of the aisle. There was a bright flash of light, followed by darkness.     11

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