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This was not the weirdest shift she’d ever worked, and honestly, that might have been more concerning than the mess she was watching unfold before her eyes.
Millie Price looked up at the clock. Only half an hour until her shift was over. That meant if these two hooligans were going to rob the store at gunpoint, she’d probably be here for it.
They walked up and down the aisles like they were looking for something specific…but they had no idea what it was. Once in a while, one of them would pluck an item off the shelf, read the back of the label, show it to the other, put it back, and continue wandering through the aisles of the pharmacy.
She looked around the store. A few other customers were scattered about—the usual older couples, mothers, kids stopping by to grab a treat—nothing out of the ordinary. Her attention turned back to those two boys as they bickered loudly about a product in aisle four.
“Are you kidding, Mathews,” one of them growled. “What the hell is that gonna do?”
“Says right there,” the other—Mathews—replied. “It’s a cough suppressant.”
“Yeah, and maybe it’ll suppress his cough so well that he stops breathing entirely. Ever think of that?”
“Dal, it’s not gonna kill him.”
“You don’t know that.” He started walking further down the aisle, perusing a different set of products.
“Superman drugs his kids with this stuff all the time,” he said as he set the bottle back down on the shelf and trailed after his friend.
Millie wasn’t entirely sure why, but she couldn’t look away. For just a moment, she thought it might have been because of his leather jacket and wild hair, but as they continued their quest, she began to realize that it was probably for the same reason she always stared at car accidents.
“What about this?” He passed another bottle to Mathews.
He squinted his eyes as he read the label. “Dallas,” Mathews said slowly, “this says it’s for kids.”
“Johnny’s a kid,” Dallas huffed.
“He’s sixteen,” he said as he put the bottle away. “He’s not the kind of kid this is meant for. If this would help him, we could’ve just taken it from my house.”
Millie turned around for just a second to conceal a laugh. These boys had absolutely no clue what they were doing. She thought about going over to help them, but when she turned around again, they had disappeared.
She heard them before she saw them. A muffled clanging sound on the floor.
“Geez, Two-Bit,” Dallas hissed, “get it together.”
“This ain’t it,” the other voice said, “smells like floor cleaner.”
“You’re not supposed to smell it. You’re supposed to wait until you get home to know it sucks. Opening it here is—well, I don’t think that’s very…hygienic,” he paused. “Or whatever,” he added quickly.
Millie grinned. Even if this was an odd sight—and vaguely alarming—this boy’s attempts to make sure it didn’t look like he cared at all were quite entertaining.
“This one’s got everything though,” Mathews said. “Vitamins A through Z.”
“I don’t think missing vitamins is the problem right now.”
Their voices got lower. For a minute, she couldn’t hear them. She thought they may have been miraculously swallowed up by the floor. Gone forever.
And honestly, at this point, she wouldn’t have even been that surprised by it.
Their voices returned—still whispers, like no one else was supposed to know.
“Come on, man,” one of them said. “Just go ask her.” He nudged his friend closer to the desk, but he resisted.
“No way,” Dallas replied. “That’s not my job.”
An elbow shot into his side. “It’s going to have to be, Dal.”
He crossed his arms. “I knew we should have brought Soda,” he muttered.
What the hell did these boys need with soft drinks in the pharmacy? If it was that urgent, they could have just bought one.
Right when Millie thought she couldn’t possibly be any more confused, the other responded.
“Nah, Darry would kill him—then us—if we brought him.”
Him? What in the world was going on here?
Before Millie had time to contemplate any further, one of them was at the counter.
“Hi,” he said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, “we uh… we need some stuff.”
Millie smiled. “Oh yeah?” she said cheerily. “What kind of stuff?”
“Well, you see,” he began, “our friend has… this thing.”
Millie nodded like that made sense and urged him to continue.
“It’s been three days. He hasn’t slept, hasn’t eaten more than a few crackers. We’re real worried about him.”
Millie frowned. “That’s a long time.”
“Yeah.”
A clattering sound from aisle five.
Millie tried to glance past Dallas at what was going on. His friend was holding up two bottles of medicine to the light, like that was going to help him figure out which one was more effective.
“Can I help you find something?” she asked.
“You already are,” Dallas interrupted. “So anyway, coughing. A lot. Real deep, sounds painful, you know.”
Millie looked back at him. “Chest cough or dry?”
“Both,” Dallas said confidently.
“It’s one or the other, hon.”
She watched his face turn bright red.
“He says it hurts when he moves. Or laughs, which has been a real problem because,” he paused. “—well, never mind.”
“Does he have a fever?”
“Don’t know,” Dallas replied, “but—“
The other boy appeared by his side.
“All set,” he said with a smile, placing one chocolate bar down on the counter. The sleeves of his jacket didn’t fit quite right—too bulky, she thought.
Millie tried to conceal her confusion. All that browsing and the only thing they found was a Hershey Bar?
“What about your friend?” she asked.
“Eh,” Two-Bit began, “we’re gonna go ask his doctor what he needs and then we’ll come back.”
Dallas nodded.
Millie let out a sigh of relief. Her shift would be over by the time they made it back.
“Well then,” she said as she took a handful of change from them, “you boys have a great day. Good luck.”
“Thanks ma’am,” Two-Bit said as the pair walked toward the exit.
She just shook her head and smiled.
It wasn’t until they were halfway out the door that she fully realized what had been going on there. Somewhere between when Dallas ripped the plastic off the chocolate bar and when “Two-Bit” pushed something with a shiny wrapper back into his sleeve, Millie realized she’d been hoodwinked.
She thought about stopping them. Running after those punks and telling them to turn their pockets inside out so she could watch merchandise tumble onto the ground.
Then she remembered their friend. Johnny. If that was even his name. If he was even real.
Yet the thought of his existence was enough to make her stay behind the counter and pretend she couldn’t see the cough syrup poking out from under Dallas’s jacket. If that kid was any bit as sick as they said, she couldn’t bring herself to stop them.
Maybe he wasn’t real. Maybe he wasn’t in as bad of shape as they said. But then again, maybe someone really did need those things. As she watched them go, pushing each other on the sidewalk, giggling about their successful heist, one thing became very clear:
Whoever they were shopping for, they must have been very loved.