Billy Summers

He walks down to the sad little strip mall. Merton Richter’s blue SUV with the scratched side is nowhere to be seen and the office is closed. So is the Nu You Tanning Salon, Hot Nails, and the Jolly Roger Tattoo Parlor. Beyond Hot Nails is an abandoned launderette and a Dollar Store with a sign in the window reading VISIT OUR NEW LOCATION IN PINE PLAZA. The Zoney’s is at the very end. Billy gets his milk out of the cooler. There’s no Pop Secret, but there’s Act II, so he grabs a box of that. The clerk is a middle-aged woman with hennaed hair who looks like she’s been down on her luck for awhile, maybe twenty years or so. She offers him a carry sack and Billy says no thank you. Zoney’s uses plastic bags, which are bad for the environment.

On the way back, he passes two young men standing outside the abandoned launderette. One is white. The other is black. They are both wearing hoodies, the kind with kangaroo pockets in front. The pockets sag with the weight of what’s inside them. Their heads are together as they murmur to each other. They give Billy identical glances of narrow assessment as he passes. He doesn’t look at them directly but sees them perfectly well from the corner of his eye. When he doesn’t slow, they go back to whispering together. They might as well be wearing placards around their necks that say WE PLAN TO CELEBRATE LABOR DAY BY ROBBING THE LOCAL ZONEY’S.

Billy walks out of the sad little strip mall and back to the street. He can feel them looking at him. There’s no telepathy involved in that, unless it’s the ordinary telepathy of someone who has survived a war zone with only a half-gone great toe and two Purple Hearts (long since discarded) to show for it.

He thinks of the woman who sold him his goods, a hard-luck mama from the look of her. Her luck isn’t going to change on this holiday, either. Billy never considers going back to brace them, judging from their cranked-up expressions that would be a fine way to get killed, but he does consider calling 911. Only there are no pay phones in the vicinity, not anymore, and the phone he’s carrying is Dalton Smith’s. If he calls the cops, he’ll burn it. Then the rest of his identity will catch fire, because what is it made of? Just paper.

He goes back to the apartment building instead and tells Beverly they didn’t have any Pop Secret. She says Act II is fine. There’s scant traffic on Pearson Street at the best of times, and it’s even scanter on this holiday. He keeps his ear cocked for gunshots. He doesn’t hear any. Which means nothing.

2

Billy downloaded an app for the local newspaper shortly after arriving in this city he can’t wait to put behind him, and the following day he looks for a Zoney’s robbery. He finds the story on the Close to Home page, just a snippet in a roundup of minor news items. It says two thieves armed with handguns made off with just under a hundred dollars (which would include my dollars and Beverly’s, Billy thinks). The clerk, Wanda Stubbs, was alone in the store at the time. She was taken to Rockland Memorial, where she was treated for a head wound and released. So one of those scumbuckets hit her, probably with the butt of his gun, and probably because she wasn’t emptying the register fast enough to suit him.

Billy can tell himself it could have been a lot worse (and does). He can tell himself the robbery would have gone down much as it did even if he had called 911 (and does). It doesn’t change the fact that he feels like the priest and Levite who passed by on the other side of the road before a good Samaritan came along and saved the day.

Billy read the Bible from cover to cover while he was in the suck, every Marine got one on request. He has often regretted it and this is one of those times. The Bible has a story to puncture every equivocation and denial. The Bible – New Testament as well as Old – does not forgive.

3

Me and Mr Speck went to Chattanooga, which was where I joined the Marines. I thought I would have to go to a Marine base to sign up, but it was just an office in a shopping mall with a vacuum cleaner store on one side and a place to get your taxes written up on the other. There was a flag over the door with NOOGA STRONG printed on one of the stripes. In the window was a photo of a Marine that said THE FEW THE PROUD and DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES.

Mr Speck said are you sure you want to do this Benjy? and I said yes, but I wasn’t. I don’t think your sure of anything when you are seventeen and a half although you might pretend so as not to look like a total dub.

Anyway we went in and I talked to Staff Sergeant Walton Fleck. He asked me why I wanted to be a Marine and I said to serve my country, although the real reason was to get out of Speck House and out of Tennessee and start a life that didn’t seem so sad. Glen and Ronnie were gone and Donnie was right when he said only the paint remains.