Read Frisbee Page 8

SIX

  Once inside the convenience store, Jason was quick to note the time on the clock that hung on the back wall above the beer cooler. “It’s seven-forty,” he said. “We’ve got about thirty minutes before we have to leave.

  Cory headed straight for the video games. There were three in all behind the cashier’s station; Pac-Man, Space Invaders and Asteroids. It was the latter of the three that he started stuffing quarters into.

  Jason and I went around to the far side of the cashier stand to change our bottles into cash. There, on the counter, a jar stood, change littering the bottom, asking for donations for Donald Miller and to help find a cure for Canavan disease. The lady behind the register had the phone to her ear and seemed to be listening intently to whoever was on the other end. When she finally saw us, she held up a finger as if to say ‘just a moment’ until she finished with her conversation.

  After a minute or two of nodding and saying yup she hung up and turned to us. “Alright. How can I help you boys?”

  “We’d like to cash in these bottles please,” My brother said.

  “Oh, is that so. Well how many you got there?” she asked.

  I stood there looking at the vest she wore. It was red with a 7-Eleven logo on the left breast. Beneath the logo was a gold badge that read Diane. She must have been about five feet even, lean and had blonde hair and a dimpled chin, probably in the neighborhood of forty years old.

  “Twenty-one all together,” Jason told her.

  “I’ll take your word for it. And at ten cents a bottle that comes out to two dollars and ten cents. Sound about right to you kids?”

  We both nodded at the same time like a couple of bobble head dolls.

  “Bring your wagon around to this side of the counter and stick the bottles right there in those crates,” she said and jerked her head toward the back corner, “and I’ll get some money out of the till for you.”

  I stayed where I was, staring up at the woman behind the counter while my brother went to offload the bottles into the crates. Finally I found the nerve to ask, “Are you new here, Diane?”

  She pulled the money out of the register, closed it, cocked her head to one side and with one eye shut said rather comically, “How’d you know my name? Are you one of those psychics with ESP or something?”

  I smiled and pointed to the gold badge and said, “It says your name right there. Diane. That’s my aunt’s name too.”

  She looked down at the left side of her vest, looked back at me and said, “Hey, you’re right.” Then gave me a wink. “What’s your name little man?”

  Although she had used the word little first, I had never been called a man before and part of my eight-year-old ego did a mental back flip.

  “Ricky Sinfield,” I said with swollen pride.

  “Well it’s a pleasure to meet you, Ricky.” She shot her hand out toward me and I shook it. “No. I’m not new here. Not really.”

  “How come I never seen you before then?”

  From the other side of the counter I heard an electronic explosion from one of the video games and Cory yell out “Damn.” He then smacked the side of the machine before resuming play.

  Jason had come back to the front of the counter and Diane handed him the money.

  “Do me a favor buddy,” Diane said to Jason. “Take the wagon outside if you guys are going to hang out here, okay.”

  “Okay,” he said and pulled the wagon outside and set it in between the bike rack and a trashcan.

  Diane turned back to me and said, “The reason you haven’t seen me in here before is cause I usually work while your sleeping. What I mean is I usually work the night shift. Have since last November. I asked Ron, the owner, if he couldn’t switch me over to the day shift this summer, seein’ as I don’t have air conditioning in my apartment and it’s always cool in here.”

  It made sense to me. And being somewhat of an inquisitive kid, I was about to ask my next question when a middle-aged man came rushing into the store and with a raspy voice demanded, “Pack of Benson and Hedges menthol 100’s. And I’m in a hurry.”

  Diane rolled her eyes and shrugged at me before helping the man with his purchase, I walked around the counter to where the video games were.

  Jason was standing behind Cory watching him play Asteroids. I poked him in the ribs and asked him for some money and he handed me a dollar and thirty cents. Half the money from the bottles and half of what Rod-the bearded giant from the construction site-had given us. I stuck a quarter into Pac-man and proceeded to eat dots and ghosts.

  We all switched off playing the three video games for another half an hour before we took what was left of our money and headed for the opposite side of the store. In the middle aisle, I went for the candy and Jason headed for the baseball card boxes.

  After finding everything we wanted, we made our purchase and began to head back home. Cory chose to stay behind. Apparently he wasn’t done playing the hell out of Asteroids yet. He knew we had chores to do and said he’d meet up with us later.

  Jason and I walked in front of the houses on Fullerton instead of behind them in the alley, switching off pulling the wagon. We passed back by Lincoln Elementary and crossed the street that paralleled Fullerton until we came back to Acacia. Standing on that corner for a minute, we wondered aloud if Mike Wood was still at the stairs and taking no chances ran past at top speed. There was no sign of him except for a few cigarette butts and an empty beer bottle, so we slowed down and walked the rest of the way back home, down Redwood and back up Cottonwood to our house on the corner.