A&P (part #2)

“Why?” my mother cried, arms flailing as if trying to get a grip on her life that was slipping away from her.

“I…” Realizing that I didn’t have an explanation she’d like, I decided that it would be safer to stay quiet.

“Now I’ll have to take a third job!” she sobbed, glaring at me through her tears, “How could you Sammy? How could you?”

“I’ll get another job!” I promised in hope of calming her down.

Ignoring my feeble proposition, she murmured, “You’ve really disappointed me, Sammy.”

“No Ma—”

“You need to learn some responsibility,” she sighed, a lone tear running down her cheek, “I want you out.”

“But—”

“Now,” she whispered, turning her hunched back to me.

I had a sudden urge to beg for forgiveness, to take her in my arms and promise her the world. But instead I walked away, the little pride I had left the only thing holding me back.



“Sam, buddy!” my fellow employee greeted me, grinning, “How are ya?”

“Hey Larry,” I sighed, forcing a smile, “I’m okay. You?”

“I’m good,” Larry replied, pulling on the ‘uniform’ we all had to wear to work, a yellow baseball cap that said “Rooney’s Gas Station” on it in bright purple print.

“Oh man,” I said, grimacing, “I can’t believe we wear these.”

Nodding in agreement, my friend left my side to greet a customer.

“Mr. Bedard,” my boss called, “you’ve got a customer!”

“Got it,” I called back, trudging over to where the blinding green car was parked, waiting to be refueled.

“Excuse me Ma’am,” I said, irritated, “Would you mind turning off your engine?”

“Oh, I’m not here for gas,” the driver cooed. There was something familiar about her voice that drew me closer.

It was her. The girl in the bathing suit. Queenie.

“Hey,” she said, smiling encouragingly at my wandering eyes, “I heard you quit for me.”

“What?”

“You saw how they treated me at the A&P and you quit.”

“Yeah,” I said, suddenly angry, “I did.”

“Well, I just wanted to say thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“Yeah,” she said dumbly, “thanks.”

“Thanks?” I repeated, “All you have to say for ruining my life is thanks?”

“Are you—”

I cut her off with a snarl, “I gave up my life for you!”

Before she could say another word, my hands we’re around her throat, squeezing so tight her pretty eyes bulged. “I gave up my life for you!”

“Sam!” Larry cried, noticing me strangling the girl, “What are you doing? Get off her!”

But I only had eyes for the girl who I’d given so much up for. She wasn’t worth my life, so she’d lose hers.

“I gave up my life for you!”

And suddenly I was being pulled back. Back. Away from Queenie. A terrible sound was coming from somewhere close. It hurt my insides, pulled at my heart. It took me a moment to realize that the sound was coming from me. “I gave up my life for you!”