Time to go

"That will be forty-five dollars and three cents." Mike shook his head not believing that that the few items being scanned was forty-five dollars. He thought about the three cents and looked down. The penny trough in front of the pimple face teenager behind the scanner was almost bare. He counted five pennies. There was enough so he wouldn't have to break another ten spot. He pulled out the handmade wallet he had gotten from his neighbor six years ago. Two twenties and a five and a clump of lint. His mind wondered to when his next payday would be as he handed pimple face the last of his cash. He looked up to see the interaction as Waldo, his name tag really said Waldo, snatch it from his hand. Mike reached around and dropped three pennies on the scanner from the trough. It hadn't happened for a while but as he looked at Waldo he saw it. He couldn't help but stare. Waldo wondered what Mike was looking at, then continued the transaction. "Thank you sir" and handed Mike the 2 bags from the round turnstile. Mike watched as it floated up to the ceiling then disappeared. Waldo was still wondering what Mike was looking at then turned his attention back to the next in line. The old woman who was next in line gently shoved Mike with her cart. With a smile, you could see she really meant to say, "Get the hell out of my way I'm next are you blind dumbass." Mike smiled back at her looking at the cart knowing exactly what she meant. Waldo had already lost interest in what Mike was looking at and went back to sliding boxes across the scanner. Mike slipped his now empty wallet back into his pocket, grabbed the two bags and started to head to the automated exit door. It never made him feel very good when he knew someone was about to die. How long had been since he last saw a ghost. Two and a half years since he watched the kid handing him popcorn at the movies while the ghost floated through the popcorn machine. He never told anyone that he saw these things. It was only when he spent the weekend with a group of friends at Meyer's Lake did it finally make sense. They had been enjoying a beautiful day at the beach. He was sitting in the shade of the umbrella on one of those beach chairs with no legs. The sand was warm. Mike was in charge of the cooler as usual. Probably because he was always the single one. It wasn't a bad job since he got to enjoy the cold beer all day. The family fifteen yards to his left had been playing in and out of the water for hours. They had three smallish children. A true American picture. He smiled as they ran screaming from the water to see who could get to their blanket on the sand first. They piled onto it laughing and rolling around. Mike truly felt happy at that moment. He was watching a memory in real time. His smile disappeared when he saw all five of the family members ghosts float above them. He wanted to turn away but couldn't. The ghosts floated in unison for just a moment above the family then wisped into the sky till they disappeared into the deep blue. Mike felt odd listening to the laughing of the kids, the feeling of dread ruining his beach day. He wished that he never saw the things he could see. The following day as he drove into town for a another beer run he heard on the radio that a family returning from the beach the day before had all died in a pile up on route sixty-eight near Langford. Listening intently to the radio report he almost hit a dog that had run out into the street in front of him. He pulled over to the side of the road and just sat. It was the family next to him at the beach. His mind connecting the ghosts to what they really were. A premonition? A warning? Was it the people’s soul leaving their bodies ahead of dying? All these years he thought he was a little crazy. Just seeing things. Then this. "Oh, you are crazy. Go get the beer and shut the fuck up." Mike hated that his mind talked so loud. But that had been the moment. The moment when he knew deep inside of himself that those ghosts meant whatever person was going to die. He never wanted this. But he was alive. Now, leaving the grocery store he felt bad for Waldo. No matter how many times he saw the ghosts it still freaked him out. He tried quieting his mind as he walked past car after car in the parking lot. Maybe it was why he was still single. Mike smirked then let out a small crooked laugh. "Single, maybe I should just get some cats?" He was almost through the parking lot when one of the grocery bags he was carrying ripped open and spilled his cans onto the ground. He cursed pimple faces name as he chased them rolling in all directions. Sabotage. Mike picked them up before they rolled under a parked pickup truck. He balanced all five cans kicking the sixth to where the bag ripped open. He looked at the torn bag and wondered how he was going to carry it all. He looked around to make sure no one saw what hapened. This is when he saw them. They were coming out of the top of the grocery store roof. He was transfixed. He tried to count them as they rose into the sky. Ten- eleven - twelve. He stopped looking and turned back to his cans. A car horn honked scaring him. He looked up to see an older car right in front of him. A scruffy looking man with a cigarette in his mouth was behind the wheel yelling something at him and reving the engine. Three more ghosts floated out of the top of the car as he watched the mans mouth move. Mike got up and ran. He went through the parked cars towards the street leaving the cans in the parking lot. He stopped at the sidewalk out of breath. He turned and saw two kids picking up the cans he had left on the ground. He was still holding one bag. Looking back at the parking lot his mind was spinning as he saw dozens of ghosts floating upward. He stood in shock. "WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING," his mind screamed at him. He turned back to the road and saw dozens more floating up into the sky. From cars, people walking and even the electric bus. Tears began to roll down his face. He felt as if he was going mad. Through tear filled eyes as far as he could see he saw them floating skyward. He looked back down to his bag and suddenly laughed. He wasn't going to need the other cans anyway. A scary cackle leaked out of his throat and he began to walk. Slowly at first, then quicker till he was at a full run. two blocks this way and three blocks that way and he ran up the steps to his apartment. He fumbled the keys out of his pocket. He dropped them on the ground twice. Tears still filling his eyes. He fell to his knees then to the ground wailing. He knew he was insane. Then things went black. "Can you spare a dollar?" Mike woke to a homeless man inches from his face. Without thinking he handed the weathered faced old man the one bag he had left. Quick as lightning, the man grabbed the bag turned and hurried away. Mike got up wiping the drool from the side of his mouth, unlocked the door and went inside. He sat down hard into his favorite chair. It was almost dark outside and what light that was left shinned through the dirty window and made a beam in the dust filled air. He watched it till the beam faded into darkness. Mike just sat. His mind was quite for the first time since he could remember. The room grew darker. He heard a car horn frantically beeping outside. Was that over on Baker st.? It wasn't very loud. He sat still trying not to make a sound. A siren whooped as the room grew even darker. He breathed in deeply taking in the floating dust. Was that an explosion? The room was very still. Another deep breath. The air smelled old. Like a room that had not been moved in a while. He felt his chair wobble then car alarms from outside blared. Mike sat back deeper into the warn fabric. His eyes closed. He wondered if pimple face really did give him a defective bag.