I stepped into Larson’s Country Market and felt the heat wrap around me like a flannel blanket. I thought of that Bible story I learned years ago in Sunday school, the one about Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego being thrown into the fiery furnace. A film of sweat broke out on my upper lip.
Eve Larson perched on a stool behind the counter, her round face flushed and damp. “Hi, Craig.” She looked too exhausted to muster her usual smile. “Air’s broke again. I called Ed, but he ain’t going to be able to fix it till tomorrow.” She fanned herself with a magazine.
I walked over to the counter and folded my arms on its surface. Even the laminate was warm against my skin. “It’s hot as hell in here, Eve. How are you standing it?”
“Well, I opened the windows.” She gestured to the one behind her; its curtains stirred in the weak breeze. “I had to close the kitchen. Too damn hot to fix anything. The lunch crowd wasn’t happy.”
Eve was famous for the chili dogs she made, and patrons flocked from miles around to order them. When I first started coming to the store after school, I ordered one every day as an excuse to be there. Truth was, the chili gave me indigestion, but I couldn’t hang around without buying anything. Only after Eve and I got to be friends did I feel comfortable stopping in just to chat. In the mid-afternoons, we were often alone, before the five o’ clock rush of commuters from the city descended on the store.
I glanced at the empty aisles. The canned goods were perfectly aligned on the shelves, and the cooler holding gallons of milk hummed to my right. Fresh produce lined half of one wall. I breathed in the scent of vine-ripe tomatoes, damp cardboard, and fresh earth. “Why don’t you let me run home and get a fan for you?”
She waved a dismissive hand. “I’m okay. Besides, it’s supposed to rain in a bit. Hopefully that will cool the place down. I can’t remember June ever being this hot.” She nodded to a folding chair against the wall near the door. “Have a seat.” I lumbered over to the chair and sat down. Eve slid off her stool and walked to the cooler. “What have you been doing to keep yourself busy today?” she called.
“I mowed the lawn, took the garbage to the dump, and tried to stay out of Monica’s way.”
Eve brought me a cold bottle of soda. I knew better than to offer to pay for it. Sometimes I helped out at the store, lifting cases and stocking canned goods while we talked, and she insisted that giving me free soda and chili dogs for my work was the least she could do.
“She driving you crazy?” Eve asked.
I pressed the bottle to my forehead, grimacing at the thought of my stepmother. “You should see how sweet she acts when Dad is around. But during the day when it’s just the two of us there, she treats me like a servant, especially when her snooty friends visit.”
Eve patted me on the shoulder and then returned to her spot behind the counter. “Well, you’ll be heading off to college this fall.”
I took a swig of soda, studying Eve as the fizzy liquid coursed down my throat. She was in her mid-forties, heavyset and encased in faded denim jeans. Her soft cotton shirt was damp with sweat. She wore her dark hair, liberally streaked with gray, pulled back in a messy braid, and strands stood up from her scalp like minute antennae. Eve was the polar opposite of Monica, who busied herself with sunbathing and waxing off all her body hair, counting calories and frequenting the gym in Norton. Everything about Eve was soft, though she hauled crates around all day. Sometimes I stood close enough to see the pale downy hair lining her jaw and upper lip. I wondered if, beneath her clothes, she had soft hair like that all over her body, and the thought made my face grow hot.
“I’ll be glad to get away from her,” I said, scuffing the toe of my sneaker over the concrete floor. “I never expected Dad to marry so soon after Mom died.” I cleared my throat. Every time I mentioned my mother, it felt like a cold river stone rested on the back of my tongue, threatening to choke me.
Eve let out a sigh, her gaze drifting toward the store window. “Love makes us do strange things, Craig. It made me stay with Wade far longer than I should have.”
Eve and Wade Larson had run this store together for years, but they busted up when I was still in elementary school. Though this was Wade’s hometown, Eve kept the store after the divorce, and he moved to Norton. Everyone liked Eve, so Wade’s departure didn’t hurt her business any.
The soda bottle sweated in my hands. “I don’t think love is what’s keeping my dad and Monica together.”
Eve propped her elbows on the counter. “Once you’re in college, it will be up to you how often you want to see them.”
I nodded, and then a crooked smile pulled at my mouth. “You’re going to miss me when I’m gone, Eve.”
Her expression turned serious. “I sure am. It’s not every day that free labor walks in the door.”
I pressed a hand to my chest. “You make me sound exploited, when you buy me off with soda and chili dogs.”
She snorted with laughter. “I’m not a healthy influence, that’s for sure.”
“That ain’t true. I might get into all kinds of trouble if I weren’t spending time here with you.”
Eve rested her chin on her hand. “I guess you’re right. Ain’t much trouble to be found in this town, but I remember being your age. You can always find a way.”
I ducked my head, wondering just what trouble she’d gotten into when she was eighteen. Had she met Wade by then? Did they sneak off together at night?
The door opened, and the man who stumbled inside brought a wall of hot air with him. I’d never seen him before, but that wasn’t uncommon. Plenty of folks stopped in on their way to who knows where. He looked about sixty, wearing a ratty white t-shirt and stained jeans. I sat several feet from the door, but I could still smell the drink on him, mixed with stale sweat.
Eve sat upright behind the counter. “Good afternoon,” she said.
The man grunted. Wiping a hand over his grizzled face, he tottered toward the coolers in back.
“That man’s drunk as a skunk,” I hissed. Eve gave me a curt nod and scrunched up her mouth like she’d tasted something bitter.
He returned to the front carrying a six-pack of beer. I set my soda bottle on the floor and stood. Eve shot me a warning look.
The man placed the beer before Eve and reached for his wallet. Eve braced her hands on the counter’s edge. “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t sell you that.”
He stared at her with bleary eyes, hand frozen in the back pocket of his jeans. “What?”
Eve shook her head. “I’m not selling you any alcohol. You’ve had enough as it is.”
He ran a hand over his oily hair, smoothing down the flyaway strands. “Look here, lady, I’m a paying customer, and you got no right to tell me what I can and can’t buy.”
“I own this store, and I can refuse service to any customer, but I’ll give you a cup of coffee free of charge.”
The man slapped his palm down on the counter. “I don’t want your goddamn coffee. I want to buy my beer and go.”
Eve narrowed her eyes, and her face flushed a deeper red. “You’ll have to buy it somewhere else, because I ain’t selling it to you. Now it’s time for you to leave.”
The man recoiled as though she’d slapped him. “You stupid bitch.”
“Hey.” I stepped forward. “You watch your mouth.”
Eve held up her hand. “Craig, don’t.”
The man swiveled his head in my direction. Looking me up and down, he snickered. “You better listen to your mama, boy, because you’re about to get an ass whooping.”
I had a couple of inches on the man, but aside from his beer belly, the rest of him was made of wiry muscle. Eve’s eyes met mine, and she shook her head furiously, everything in her face telling me no.
“You get the hell out of this store before I throw you out,” I told the man.
Rage must have had a sobering effect on him, because his movements were a blur as he lunged at me and sent us both sprawling on the floor. I slammed my head against the concrete, and the impact made my brain sluggish. He straddled my stomach and punched me in the face. I’d taken a hit during a fight in tenth grade, but nothing as powerful as the man’s fist against my jaw. He hit me again, mashing my lips into my teeth. Blood filled my mouth and tasted like melted pennies as it poured down my throat.
My hands sought out the man’s face. I wanted to poke my thumbs into his eye sockets, but he dodged my attempts to wound him. “You think you’re tough now, you little shit?” The man’s spittle rained down on my cheeks.
A loud thwack sounded in my ears. The noise reminded me of the time I was carrying cantaloupes into the store from the truck outside, and one fell from my arms and smacked against the floor.
The man’s body slackened. Sputtering blood, I shoved him off of me and tried to scoot away, but my head swam.
“Oh my god,” Eve said. “Craig, are you okay?” I couldn’t see for all the blood in my eyes. She cradled my head in the crook of her arm as she wiped the blood from my face with a wet cloth. “You have a gash right above your eyebrow, and those bleed like a sonofabitch. Press hard with this cloth.” I raised a feeble hand and applied pressure to the wound. Now that I could see, I noticed the baseball bat lying on the floor beside her. I wondered if the man next to me was dead and discovered I didn’t much care. My left canine tooth wiggled when I pressed my tongue against it.
“Say something, Craig.” Eve’s voice quaked as she peered down at me.
I rested my head in her lap and coughed. My throat felt raw from the blood I’d swallowed. “Guess we showed him, huh?”
She brushed my hair back from my face and eased me into a sitting position. I took her hand in mine and held it beneath my chin. When I opened my mouth, the canine dropped into her palm.
Eve gaped at the tooth with its long bloody root. “Craig, we need to get you to the dentist. Dr. Sawyer’s office is still open.”
I shook my head and closed her fingers around the tooth. Eve furrowed her brow and started to say something else, but I stroked her face, the way I’d always wanted to. She closed her eyes, leaning into my touch, and I grinned as my tongue prodded the gap where my tooth used to be.
