Page 9 of A Fate of Ice and Lies
“Whatever you say, crazy.”
From over the phone, I heard Hee-haw bray in agreement.
I jerked my head toward the door, which I apparently forgot to lock, when a man I didn’t recognize came in.
“We’re closed,” I called out to the man, who stared at the chiming bell over the door.
“Did someone just come in?” Ryenne hissed in my ear.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” I replied. “Let me let you go, and I’ll be home in like twenty minutes.”
“It’s after eleven, Ted. Bad shit happens at this hour.” Her alarmed hiss rang through my ear.
“Okay, Grandma Richter.” I laughed and hung up before she could say anything about my tease, but seriously, Ryenne’s grandma had the worst conspiracy theorists beat with her paranoia.
I took a few steps toward the man, who still stared at the bell in puzzlement. His gaze dropped to me, and I had to fight my body from taking a retreating step back. His eyes were sunken and bloodshot, his cheeks hollow and frame thin. He looked so tired and lost it was as if a small gust of wind could topple him over.
It was obvious he needed help. Food, yes, but also some much-needed rest.
“We’re closed right now, but if you know what you need, I can run and get it for you really quick,” I offered.
He scratched the scruffy beard on his chin. “Do you have anything for a fever for a kid?” he asked. “She’s ten.”
My bottom lip wobbled, but I forced my smile to grow wider. “Sure, I can get that. Has she eaten? We have some canned soup and crackers.”
“I-I don’t know.” His hands went to the back of his neck,where he massaged the base. “I was at work. Just got home. My wife—she’s sick. Cancer, end stages.” He swallowed, and his ashen face turned paler. “My oldest boy was taking care of both of them. I didn’t ask. We have food. We do, but. . .”
I was familiar with the look he gave me. It spoke of pride and hurt, where he worked too many hours for far less money than he needed. I had no doubt he provided for his family the best way he could, but they still went without.
“That’s okay.” I patted his bony arm. “Why don’t you get a cart, and we’ll fill you up with some medicine and food?”
His nod was jerky, and while he rushed to get a shopping cart, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out, and after I rejected Ryenne’s call, I quickly texted her to let her know I was almost done.
Not wanting Ryenne to worry and send Donnie to check on me, I rushed through the aisles, making a mental note of everything I placed in his cart so I could mark it off inventory the following day.
“This is a lot,” he whispered when we went through the third aisle, and I continued putting items in his cart. “Are you sure this is okay?”
“That’s what we’re here for.” My words came out calm despite the way my heart ached.
I wanted to do more for him. Needed to do more. He and his family were hurting, his wife dying.
When I reached the back of the store, where the refrigerators lined the wall, I tipped my chin toward the baked ham.
“Think your family would like one for Easter?” I asked.
His red-rimmed eyes turned glassy, and he nodded. “Thank you.” His low voice was laced with pain.
I gave the problematic door a tug to no avail. I gruntedwith another hard pull. It ultimately gave with a final jerk. As I reached into the refrigerator, the man yelled and tried to push me out of the way, but before I could clear it, the refrigerator and everything inside of it toppled forward.
Pain lanced through me when I fell to the floor with the heavy refrigerator on top of me.
Trapped. I was trapped. My lungs flamed and struggled with each ragged breath as I tried not to let my anxiety rear its ugly head.
I’d get out of this. I had to.
The man tried to heave the refrigerator off me. I tried to help him, but it wouldn’t budge. I pushed harder, the pain in my body intensifying. My head swam, and black spots narrowed my vision to almost nothing.
“I-I. . .” the man said.
