Rustle, Oklahoma

Henry continued driving down the main road. On the left side, was the market and back down the street would be Dole’s. Henry got on the left most lane, drove further down the road and go onto a middle-turning lane. Henry waited for a couple of cars to go past then made a U-turn. He drove up the road, turned into the small market parking lot and turned the truck off. “Here we are,” Henry announced our arrival.

I exited out my side. Lenny came down my way, I helped him down. Lenny and I walked around the hood of the truck to meet Henry. “Give me a sec,” Henry said leaning into the truck, “I’m grabbing my phone.”

The lot was mostly full. Saturday mornings were the busiest here in Rustle. People trying to get things done and taken care of to enjoy the rest of their weekend in peace. In a working town, the weekend is a godsend. Which is probably why, even on early Sunday mornings, people still come to church.

People walked around the lot. Some pushing empty carts or ones full of goods towards their cars. Others pulling out of the driveway and new cars pulling in. A family of six came bustling past us. The metal shaking from two carts filled my ears. Along with the classic squeaky wheels coming from a shopping cart in need of repairs.

I looked towards the market. The big, brown building is the only grocery store in town. Aptly named Rustle’s Market, it’s where everyone in town goes to grab their food. I was glad to be out of the church for a while but a bit anxious thinking about who we might run into here. Many in the town know me before I made my vows to the Catholic church and became a priest. Some found it funny considering the man I once was, and others still wanted to talk about those old days that bring me shame.

The truck door closed. “Ready,” Henry said to us then walked ahead. Lenny followed close behind, his little legs moving fast to keep up with his father’s long strides. I came up from behind and overtook Lenny shortly after. Henry began speeding up and so did I. Until Lenny shouted, “Wait for me!”

“Did you hear that?” Henry asked.

“Naw, can’t hear anything way up here,” I said, my head swiveling around, exaggeratedly straining to hear.

“Wait for me you jerks!” Lenny shouted again and ran between me and his father.

“Jerks. He called us jerks,” Henry howled with laughter. I joined in. We both looked down at little Lenny who was in the middle. He was smiling ear to ear then out of nowhere, wrapped his arms and legs around Henry’s leg nearly causing him to fall. That made me laugh, then Lenny, and then Henry.

We crossed the short parking lot stopping by all the docked carts. Henry pulled out a shopping cart close to the entrance as Lenny and I stared at a red, yellow striped, rusted rocket-ship kiddie ride. “Oh no, Lenny. If you’re a man, you can’t ride a kiddie ride,” I told him the bad news.

“Fine, but does that mean I can start learning how to drive?” He asked.

I chuckled, “When you can finally touch the pedals while being able to look out the window, then you can ask your dad. Until, you’ll have to stick with your bike.”

Lenny and I then went to Henry who waited patiently with his cart. “Vamos,” Henry said, sounding somehow more midwestern speaking Spanish, and pushed the cart inside the market. There were four checkout lines, each with about seven to ten people in line. The town had about four thousand people living in it. On the weekends, you could see the population out in full force. We passed by aisles with two-to-four people in each one.

“Do you still think this is only going to take an hour?” I asked Henry.

My little brother shrugged, “Maybe Nelson will help us skip a line.”

Nelson is the owner of Rustle’s Market. The store has been open for nearly fifty years, with Joshua Nelson being the original owner and his son, Malcom Nelson, being mine and Henry’s friend. With Joshua pushing eighty years, Malcom has taken over the business. Whenever he’s at work, Henry who grew up with him, gets his friend to give him the VIP treatment. Which means skipping lines, discounts, and sometimes free snacks for Lenny.

“That wouldn’t be fair for everyone else, Henry,” I said to my little brother.

“Ha,” Henry laughed as he pushed the cart down towards the snack aisle. “You know, some people will think you act like that because you’ve gone and b’come a preacher. Little do they know you’ve always had a strange sense of morality. Didn’t your mentor say that you were an ‘interestin’ man?”

“Really?” Lenny asked, curious to hear more.

“He did,” memories of my time spent with Father Terrence brought a smile to my face. He was my mentor during my time spent training to be a priest. It’s only been four years since I became a preacher. Father Terrence helped guide me and stood by my side during some of the darkest hours of my life. “He said I have a strange sense of honor and loyalty. But, he said, that the strange are often the best when it comes to seeing.”

“And what does that mean?” Henry asked while looking forward. Henry and I kept our strides small for Lenny. So, we were barely coming up on the snack aisle.

“It means, that people who look at the world differently, are not distracted by the normal. What may blind the common man from seeing the truth. For example, think about how one might perceive a man who steals. The common man may label him a low-down, thirty thief. But the ‘strange’ ones look past those labels and look at the true problem.”

“Hmm,” Henry nodded with a comprehending look. Lenny nodded his head along with his father but whether Lenny understood or not, I couldn’t tell. Henry said, “Different perspectives. Right?”

“Exactly,” I answered as we turned into the snack aisle.

The aisle had two others already in it. They stared at us as we entered, one’s look lingered longer than the other. Another suited fellow, his skin a fair-white like a rabbit. He was much taller than the other well-dressed man I met today. I noticed, draped over his shoulders, is a black scarf. I stared at him from the side of my eye as I turned to the shelves of chips and dips. The three of us scooted aside to let the suited, man who couldn’t stop staring, through. Soon after the other person in the aisle, a lady, left leaving the three of us alone.

“Billy, what do you think people would want?” Henry asked as he rubbed his chin inquisitively while looking at the chips. Lenny on the other hand, was busy eyeing the chocolate on the shelves across from the chips. The Snickers were right in front of him but presented with all the other options he was at a loss for what to grab.

I answered Henry, “You gotta pick at least two ol’ plain potato chips so people can dip them. Then you need spicy and maybe barbecue chips?”

Henry nodded, mulling my answer over in his head. “You know what, we’ll do that. Two large plain, two spicy, and one barbecue. As for dip?” Henry stared at the larger containers of chip dips that were above the regular size dips. “We’ll go with avocado and onion.” Henry grabbed the dips and put them into the cart along with the chips.

“Dad,” Lenny said to his father, “can I stay here? I can’t decide on what I want.”

Henry and I both grinned at the kid. “Sure, but no king size bars. We’re going to eat cake later. Remember?”

“Oh yeah,” Lenny said then reluctantly looked away from the large size chocolate bars.

“We’ll be at the refrigerators grabbing drinks. If you don’t come looking for us first, we’ll come back to get you, okay?” Henry told his son.

“Yeah, I think I’ll wait here,” Lenny said.

With that, we left little Lenny. Henry and I walked to the other side of the store where the packs of sodas and water were kept. “Billy, can you get three packs of water? I’m going to grab the sodas.”

Henry pulled ahead of the shelves to where the sodas were kept. He left behind the cart with me so I can load it with water. I grabbed the packs, placing two underneath the cart and one inside of the cart. I then pushed the cart over to my brother who loaded it with five packs of different kinds of sodas. A twenty-four pack of lemon-lime soda, two twenty-four packs of dark sodas, and a twenty-four pack of orange flavored soda.

“Okay,” Henry smiled at me, “now the beer.”

The beer was kept in the refrigerators not too far from the sodas and water. There Henry spotted one of his co-workers from the meat packing plant Henry works at. The meat packing plant is an hour out of town. Henry has worked at the same plant since he was twenty-four years old. At the time, my little brother like others, was still going from job to job. He had spent two years at the plant (the longest job he had held down) when he finally decided he wanted to try his hand at driving semis. Though, before he could put his two-weeks in, Mary had become pregnant with Lenny when Henry was twenty-six.

Not wanting to lose such a stable job, especially when he was making twelve dollars an hour, Henry stayed. His charm and happy attitude made him popular among his co-workers and bosses. After another two years, Henry became a supervisor at the plant. The promotion to supervisor kept him at the plant ever since. Soon after, Henry would eventually stop complaining about the long hours and six-day work weeks. As he was making enough money to give Lenny a good childhood.

The co-worker is a burly man with a wide chest and round shoulders. His face is puffy and rosy with a light-brown beard, wide eyes, round nose, and short-trimmed brown hair. His voice was loud as he spotted Henry and said, “Mr. Rile! You’re not going to make me work, right?”

Henry laughed and pushed the cart forward towards his friend. The two men shook hands and Henry said, “Today, I’ll take it easy on you. How about you head down to the plant and work until my son’s party starts?”

“Ah, you bastard,” the man’s laugh was surprisingly light and warm. “Fine but you have to get me a bottle of whiskey.”

“What do you mean? It’s my son’s birthday party not yours. No, you’ll get watered down liquor and half a rib,” Henry jokingly said. Tommy playfully punched Henry’s shoulder and called him a bastard once more. When the laugher died down, it seemed like he finally noticed me.

“Is this your brother? The preacher?” Tommy asked gazing up at me with wide white eyes.

“Yup, this is my big brother. His name is Billy,” Henry turned to me. “Billy. This is one of the forklift drivers at the plant. His name is Tommy.”

I walked over and shook Tommy’s hand. Tommy was about two inches shorter than Henry which meant he was six inches shorter than me. “Nice to meet you,” I said as we shook hands.

“Holy hell! Henry said you were tall but you’re a giant! Ever think about taking up boxing,” Tommy laughed. “I’d put my money on you anytime.”

“No, boxing isn’t my thing. I did play football in high school though.”

“No shit? Me too!”

Henry cut in, “They used to call him Knox. When he was on the line nobody could break through.”

“Of course, you were a lineman! Fuck yeah. My man,” Tommy went for another handshake. I obliged him and took his hand but instead of shaking it Tommy gripped my hand. He pulled me in and clapped my back. Tommy was energetic but he calmed as he said, “Oh shoot! I’m over here cussing like a sailor when you’re a preacher. Forgive me Father.” Tommy hung his head and clapped his hands together, mockingly asking for forgiveness.

Tommy raised his head, his body shaking, as he let out a body shaking laugh. Henry and I couldn’t help but to grin. “I forgive you,” I jokingly said putting my hand on Tommy’s head which made the large man laugh harder.

After, Tommy grabbed the beer he wanted from the refrigerator and said his goodbyes. “Nice guy,” I said to Henry.

“Yup, he’s a good dude. Drinks beer like a sailor though. I’m thinking he’ll finish that six-pack when he gets home then drink some more at the party,” Henry said as he opened the same refrigerator Tommy grabbed his beer from.

“Does he have a Wife? Kids?”

“Nah,” Henry squatted down to grab the larger packs of beer. He pulled out a dark blue box and handed it to me to put into the cart. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s why he drinks,” Henry said then bent down to grab another case of beer. He handed me another then opened another refrigerator. From this one, he pulled out two yellow boxes and I placed them in the cart. “Now for a bottle or two.”

In a working town, the people know how to put back their drinks. Long ago, I used to finish a six-pack of beer after work all the time. At my worst, a twelve-pack. Starting off my drinking sessions with a shot or two of liquor. “Liquor before beer you’re in the clear,” is what I learned. When you work manual labor, and when the workdays can last well past ten hours. The only thing that seems able to soothe you is alcohol.

The liquor aisle is short with a bit of wine at the end. Henry stopped before the shelves holding whiskey and rum. “Look at that, Billy,” Henry pointed at a green bottle of rum. Sailor’s Cure, read the black letters on the red label on the bottle. “Dad’s favorite. And it’s still cheap.”

I grunted, “Do you remember what he used to say?” Henry nodded. I spoke the words first, then Henry matched me, “Cheap liquor. Expensive liquor. It all tastes the same after six gulps.” We laughed at the memory of our dad. Though, it was soured with the memory of his addiction. The darkness in man is a scary thing. It’ll pull you down and tear you apart. Until you become unrecognizable from the man you once were.

Henry grabbed the cheap bottle of rum and a well-priced bottle of whiskey. Henry liked his whiskey. As we walked back to the snack aisle, I broke the news to Henry. “I’m sorry but I won’t be at the party Henry. Lisa, I told her I can look after Richard for her. The poor lady doesn’t get to go out much. I want to give her a night off at least.”

Henry stopped, dumbfounded, his mouth open. He shook his head side-to-side, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed. “Fine,” he sighed once more, “selfless. Ugh. Why you gotta be so damn selfless? Can’t even get mad at you. You’re doing a good thing. You’ll come visit if she goes back early, won’t ya?”

“I sure will,” I patted my brother on the back. “Thanks for understanding.”

We found Lenny still staring at all the candy. He held two chocolate bars. One in either hand, a Snickers and a Hershey’s bar. “Which one should I get?” He asked the two of us. We told him to take the Snickers then we went to get checked out. As we went down the aisles, we spotted Malcom Nelson. Henry called him over.

Nelson is lanky, wearing a white shirt with a brown tie, brown slacks, and black sneakers. His black hair is slicked back, his oval shaped face brown, tight, and smiling. His narrow eyes fixed on Lenny as he approached. “Happy birthday kid! Do you want that chocolate? For you, Lenny. It’s free, go ahead and eat it already if you want.”

“Thanks uncle Malcolm,” Lenny said to his father’s best friend.

“Hey, Malcom. You’re actually going to work?” Henry asked then shook his friend’s hand.

“Oh, come on now Henry. I don’t just watch people all day like you do,” the two kid around like the boys they once were. Malcom turned to me and shook my hand. “Always nice to see you, Billy.”

“Likewise, Malcom.”

Malcom stepped back and took a breath. “I’m heading to the back. With how busy the store is I need to help out the others in putting stuff out. You guys getting ready for the party?”

“Yup, going to check out now.”

“Oh no. Henry. You aren’t going to ask me to let you skip the line. The last time I did that the customers got angry at me,” Malcom was serious. He was tensed waiting for Henry’s answer.

“No. A righteous man said it wouldn’t be fair if you did that. We’ll just wait in line like everyone else,” Henry said dismayed.

Malcom let out a breath of relief. “I guess I got you to thank, right, Billy?”

“Heh, I guess so. You can also just say ‘no’, you know? Anyways, how’s your dad doing?” I asked him. Joshua nelson was around forty years old when he had his only son Malcom. Malcom was the same age as Henry, thirty-five.

“That old man is strong. He’s eighty and still can’t sit still. Always wants to do something. Without my mom around to keep him company, he often comes down to the store just to see how things are. Good thing he doesn’t criticize our employees. He just likes watching his store. Right now, he’s with some of his buddies.”

“That’s nice to hear,” I said to him.

“Anyways, we won’t keep you any longer,” Henry said to Malcolm. Malcolm went back to his duties, and we entered a line.

Twelve minutes later we were out. We loaded the back of the truck with the snacks and drinks. Henry closed the cover on the back and locked the truck. The three of us left the lot and walked up the road to Dole’s the butcher shop. Another cool breeze blew against us as we walked. Lenny had eaten half of his bar inside the store and finished the rest now. The butcher shop was only two minutes from the market parking lot.

We walked along the sidewalk. The sounds of rustling leaves and shoes on the sidewalk was nearly deafened by the sound of tires and engines. We entered Dole’s to the sound of a bell. As we entered, the only other customer inside paid for his meat and left. Leaving the three of us alone with Bob Dole’s father, Samuel Dole. He was behind the counter, short and round with wide forearms. His face is square, his head bald, with bushy eyebrows and a bushier mustahce. He looked up at us and said with a gruff voice, “Well if it isn’t Lenny’s boys. How have you two been?”

“Good,” Henry said.

“Fine. How about yourself, Sammy? And how’s Claire?” I asked him. Sammy was what our dad called him. He and Sammy were childhood friends.

“I’m good Billy. Claire’s doing fine too, enjoying her retirement from teaching. She’s been planting her flowers all over our lawn,” Sammy chucked heartly. “Glad to hear you two are doing alright as well. Look at you two, I know Lenny and Jasmine would be proud to see you two. You two grew up to be fine men.” His comment made us smile.

I asked Sammy another question, “How are your boys?” Sammy has two boys as well, Clark and Bob. Clark is his oldest, two years older than me, and my friend. Bob is my friend as well, but he grew up with Henry. Bob is a year younger than Henry.

“They’re both doing well. Clark is still up in Washington. Bob is in the back, he said he was waiting for you, Henry. Let me get him,” but before he left, he looked down at Lenny. “Well, if it isn’t little Lenny. How are you son? How’s it feel to be nine years old?”

“I’m good,” Lenny was a bit bashful; he didn’t answer Sammy’s other question.

“Heh, enjoy your party. You only get to be a child once. Don’t squander it. Play all night and then play tomorrow and the next day. You hear?” Sammy said, his voice as kind and gentle as a thick and rough voice can get. Lenny nodded with a shy smile. “Good,” Sammy’s grin hidden by his bushy stache, “let me go get Bob now.”

Sammy and Bob entered through the two doors that led to the back of the shop. Bob was holding a box. Inside of it would be ribs and brisket. How would Henry cook all of that in a few hours? I did not know. Odds are Mary would help him, he mentioned to me earlier that some of Mary’s friends might come over to help as well.

“Hey Henry! Billy! And Lenny!” Bob said as he set the box of meats down onto the counter.

“Thanks for saving the meats for me, Bob,” Henry reached over the counter to bump fists with Bob.

“No problem. What have you three been up to?” Bob asked. He, like his father, wore a white apron over his clothing. Bob, unlike his father, was taller but still chubby. He had a belly that went over the waistband of his pants and muscular arms. He was beginning to bald with the black hair on top of his head going first. And, like his father, Bob had bushy eyebrows and a square face.

Henry told Bob about what we had been up to. Then we spoke a bit more, talking about the party. Sammy commented that Lenny looked like my father when he was nine. And then Sammy and Bob told us about their day in the shop. Once we were done, I grabbed the box of meats and we prepared to leave. Though, before we could go, Bob asked us a question.

“Hey. By the way, did you guys notice anything strange a couple nights ago?”

Henry and I looked at each other. We both shook our heads. “Why do you ask?” Henry asked, tilting his head at Bob, curious.

“Well, we were in the shop around one in the morning. Everything was fine, dad and I were enjoying some good old country while going over the books. Then the radio started flipping through the stations, stopping, and then pure static. The lights began to flicker rapidly then, in an instant, it all stopped. The radio went back to normal, the music playing clearly, and none of the lights were damaged. The skies were cloudy but there was no storm or anything, right dad?”

Sammy spoke up, “Yup. There was nothing going on outside that should have caused it. The breaker was perfectly fine too. Strange. Strange. Strange.”

“Woah,” Lenny said amazed at the story.

Henry and I shared curious glances. “No, I would have been in bed. Lenny would have been asleep before me. No lights flickered in our house, it probably would have woken Mary and me,” Henry told the father and son.

“I would have been deep asleep by then too. I’ve been sleeping on schedule for a while now,” I put in.

“Ah, I see,” Bob folded his arms across his wide chest. “The odd thing was that none of the lights that were turned off, turned on. Do you get me? Usually, in an electrical storm or some problem with the voltage all the lights will go on and off. Only, when this happened, the lights that were on were the only ones affected. Strange. Ain’t it?”

“Yeah…how long ago was this?” I asked.

“It was a couple nights ago. Like three or four days ago, right dad?” Bob asked his dad and he nodded.

“Maybe ask around at the party. Somebody else is bound to have shared the same experience. Anyways we gotta get going,” Henry said.

“Of course, say hi to Mary for me,” Bob said.

“Take care boys,” Sammy waved.

We left the butcher shop and went back to the parking lot.