Bentley Little - The Store

"It's about time you got here," she said. "Help me fill these up before the rush starts."

Grad Night this year was sponsored by The Store, all of the decorations and refreshments, even the entertainment donated or paid for by The Store. A big banner strung above the doorway announced WELCOME TO THE STORE'S FIRST ANNUAL

GRAD NIGHT CELEBRATION!

That was nice, Shannon supposed, but it also meant that they had to abide by rules and regulations imposed by The Store. Traditionally, Juniper's Grad Night parties lasted from dusk until dawn, with parent and teacher volunteers chaperoning the kids inside the gym and policemen monitoring the parking lot and the streets abutting the school in order to make sure there was no trouble. This year, however the chaperons had been scrapped. The Store had supplied its own security. And the police would probably have very little to do in the parking lot or on the street because once seniors entered the Grad Night party, they were not allowed to leave the gym.

This was all supposed to cut down on problems and troublemakers, but to Shannon it lent to the celebration an uneasy atmosphere. Teachers and administrators were still in attendance, but they were relegated to the sidelines: making lame announcements from the stage between songs, helping students serve refreshments. In contrast, stoic guards in green Store uniforms were conspicuously stationed around the gym to monitor the partiers' behavior and to block all exits. The guards were not people from town but part of the group of initial Store employees brought in from the corporate office. No one knew them, and they knew no one, and it made for an unsettling time. This was supposed to be a graduation party, a celebration of freedom from compulsory schooling, but it felt more like a dance at a prison, and long before midnight Shannon was sorry she'd agreed to help out. She felt like she was being watched all the time, monitored, and it was a feeling she didn't like.

Sam stopped by several times throughout the early evening, accompanied by different dance partners, but eventually Shannon lost track of her sister, and the next time she saw her, several hours later, Sam was huddled with a group of Store guards to the left of the bandstand.

During a break in the music, while Mr. Handy gave out joke awards that were supposed to be humorous but were merely embarrassing, Shannon made a quick trip to the bathroom. Sam was already in there with a bunch of other girls, and she put a hand on Shannon's shoulder. "I've been promoted," she said. "I'm going to be lead in Housewares this summer. They're letting me out of Infants. I guess they like me."

"What's a lead?"

"It's the lead salesperson. The department manager'll be over me, but I'm pretty much second in command. I'll be like the boss of all the Housewares part timers."

"Who told you? One of those guys guarding the door?"

"Yeah. Ray."

Shannon smiled teasingly. "Ooh, first-name basis. Is there something going on here I should know about?"

"With Ray?" Sam laughed. "I don't think so."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Shannon said. "That's great."

But it wasn't that great, and she wondered why her sister seemed so proud and excited over such a trivial thing. Sam had always disdained those girls at their school who set their career sights no higher than being a waitress or a sales clerk. She was adamant about getting out of this town and getting an education and becoming part of what she called "the real world." It seemed completely out of character for her to feel honored because some security guard told her she'd gotten a minor promotion in her menial part-time job.

Shannon wondered if she should tell her parents what she thought but decided that it would only make her dad crazy. He had a bug up his butt about The Store, anyway, and this would only make him worse. So she said good-bye to Sam, pushed it out of her mind, and by the time she returned to the refreshment table she had completely forgotten it.

SEVENTEEN

1

The addition was finished.

The grand opening of The Store's new grocery department was tomorrow.

It was impossible to believe that it had been completed so quickly.

Groundbreaking had been only a little over a month ago. By the time Ben's photos of that morning had appeared in the paper, they were already out of date.

Construction had moved ahead so rapidly that, according to the town council, it was all Juniper's various inspectors could do to keep up.

Bill had jogged by there this morning, and already the banners had been strung, the helium balloons tied in place. A page of coupons had appeared in the paper on Saturday, offering such outrageously low-priced items as one-cent lettuce and twenty-five-cents-a-pound catfish fillet. The Store was bribing people to shop in its food department, and Bill knew the bribes were working, because he and Ginny were going to stock up on a bunch of groceries tomorrow and if _they_ could be bought, anyone could be bought.

He wished there was another place in town to buy foodstuffs. But Ben had been right. Buy-and-Save was scheduled to shut its doors next week -- just after The Store's grocery department opened. Already, the place looked abandoned. He drove down Main, slowed as he passed the market. The windows were dirty and dark, and there were only two cars in the parking lot. Employees' cars, probably.

Once Buy-and-Save closed, there'd be only The Store.

He wondered what had happened to Jed. Rumor had it that he'd skipped town, owing bills, but he didn't know anyone who actually bought that story. It was completely out of character for Jed, and Bill had the feeling that the truth was something far less ordinary and far less benign.

And connected to The Store.

He drove by the empty cafй. The windows were soaped up, whited out. As were the windows on an increasing number of storefronts in town.

It was Tuesday, benefits day, and up ahead the line in front of the unemployment office was long. Even longer than it had been after the lumber mill closed. It wound outside of the brown brick building and around the corner to the parking lot. At the end of the line he saw Frank Wilson, one of Hargrove's old cronies, and while a small mean part of him wanted to gloat because the man had gotten what he'd deserved, he couldn't really feel good about it.

Revenge was not always sweet.

There were quite a few construction workers in line, and underneath the metal letters euphemistically identifying the building as the Arizona Department of Economic Security, he saw Ted Malory. He waved, but Ted didn't see him, and he continued on, not wanting to honk and draw attention to himself.

According to Ted's wife, The Store had stiffed him on the roofing job he'd done, not paying the amount originally agreed upon, deducting money from the payment for imaginary errors and oversights. He hadn't had a job since, had had to lay off his whole crew, and Charlinda said they'd probably have to file for bankruptcy. To top it off, his son and a group of other boys had recently been caught dropping M80s down the toilets at school, and, along with the parents of the other boys, Ted and Charlinda were responsible for covering those damages as well. Trouble came in waves, his grandfather used to say, and that sure as hell seemed to be true.

Especially these days.

Street's store was still in business, and he stopped by, bought a diamond needle for his turntable that he didn't need, then walked over to the record store.

Doane nodded a greeting as he stepped inside.

"Hey," Bill said.

"Hey, yourself."

"I probably shouldn't ask," Bill said, heading over to the used-CD rack, "but how're things today?"

"Well, you heard what happened to the radio station, didn't you?"