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“N-now th-that that don't kill me...can only make me stronger…” I continue singing.
His chest heaves as all the air expels, and he eases up his fight.
“I need you to hurry up now…‘cause Pickle can't wait much longer.”
His hands curl around my forearms and he gently squeezes twice.
“I know I got to be right now…‘cause Pickle can't get much wronger. Man, I've been waiting all night now. That's how long I been on ya.”
He sucks in a breath and lets it out again. I feel his body finally sink against mine.
“I-I need you right now,” he recites in a cracked tone.
“That's it, Col,” I say reassuringly. “I'm here, bud. I'm right here.”
We sit like that for about five minutes, until I feel his heart rate slowing down. I loosen my hold, just hugging him from behind.
“Want to tell me what happened?” I finally ask, my chin still resting on his shoulder as I feel him swallow.
“T-Terry took the bag. Took the bag from Colin. Terry took the bag.”
“Terry,” I say to myself as I release him, turning his body to face me.
“I'm so sorry. I-I know I can't get in trouble. Colin will lose his job if he doesn't bag right. They said it. They said it and I heard them. Colin will lose his job. I'm so s-sorry, Pickle. I can't lose the job. I'm sorry, Pickle.”
“Shh...no Colin. It's okay. Don't ever be sorry. Pickle is always here. Don't be sorry. It's not your fault, Colin. Things happen, and I'm just happy you're okay.” I pull him into me, bringing his face into my chest as I clutch onto his hair. “It's going to be okay.”
Tears well up in my eyes as he inhales a deep breath and slowly releases it against me, and I squeeze them back with a quick, hard squint.I love you so much, Colin.
Who the fuck is Terry, and why is he taking bags from the bagger?
After helping Colin up and getting him back into his old Piggly Wiggly t-shirt—without the tag—I grab the new one and head for the registers. My protective instinct comes into play, and I feel the anger rising inside me, heating me with defensive rage.
I'm about to find Maureen and get some fucking answers.
8
Lake
“SoItoldher,your boy Lake is out of commission for a while. Besides, what she really needed was a man who's good with his hands. A man who specializes in holding oblong things for a living.”
I contort my face against the phone, unfortunately still listening.
“And guess what she said?”
I groan internally at his need for me to respond.
“What, Candy?”
He stalls for an over-dramatic pause.
“She said she paid good money to make sure hers weren't oblong anymore,” he deadpans.
An unintended cough finds its way up my chest until I'm laughing.
“So we fucked, doggy-style if I might add, and she and her spherical silicone breasts left when we were done. Haven't heard from her since.”
I shake my head, pausing to give a quick nod to the woman behind the counter who’s holding out my bag for me. She says something in her Native tongue and I smile back appreciatively, grabbing the bag of food. I turn to leave, hobbling on one crutch as I push through the glass door of the tiny restaurant with my shoulder.
