The Gift

I entered the sea of humanity on my mission to purchase a large picnic basket for an event the next day. It was on a Sunday, the most dreaded day to shop at this mega store.   My eyes scanned the aisles looking for the vest uniformed clerk that occasionally passes by.  To my utter surprise, I found one almost immediately.  He pointed to an aisle, without comment.  I nodded and moved on since I understood that conversation was fruitless and probably even prohibited.

 

I was stunned to find the desired object, exactly where it was supposed to be. Pleased with my good fortune I moved swiftly to exit only to be stopped in my tracks by a large display of Pepsi placed in front of the Pharmacy.  What is soda doing here?  Obviously the display worked, as I was enticed to put several bottles in my cart at the ridiculous price of 99 cents.  Oops. They were all regular Pepsi not the diet Pepsi favored by my wife.  You might say this passage is extraneous, get to the point.  But this diversion actually led to a fateful decision to search for the diet Pepsi in the grocery department to the north, which delayed my exiting and resulted in an eventful encounter later.  You’ll see.  So back to the story.  Again, to my good fortune I found the desired Pepsi.  I felt rather proud of my ability to navigate this foreign place!  Now, it was time to make my escape.

 

I deftly wound my cart through many aisles scanning the horizon for roadblocks ahead and taking numerous detours around potential slowdowns until I finally arrived at the front of the store. To my shock, I observed only 4 registers open, with probably 16 empty.  There were perhaps 10 wagons at each station, each filled to the brim with grocery items that could have the potential in the aggregate to supply a platoon for a week.  Where were the other 16 cashiers on this busiest of shopping days?  Perhaps they had gone mad and went AWOL.  I couldn’t blame them.

 

I made a command decision right then to abandon my position and try a flanking maneuver to the department store side of the building. No luck.  Only two registers were open and several were abandoned as they were on the grocery side.  The only consolation was that only a few of the 9 carts ahead of me had piles of groceries which meant quicker scanning.  The cashier was so far away that she looked like a little toy action figure on the horizon.

 

I could not place my cart in a straight line towards the cashier since it stuck out into the main aisle. So I compromised a bit and placed the cart at a 45 degree angle to allow the happy shoppers to work around me.  A second or two after placing my cart in this position, I observed a small, frail old woman pulling up to me on the right.

 

She was dressed in a sweatshirt like top and loosely fitting slacks. I guessed my wife would call her “pear shaped” in stature.  I feel uncomfortable using this slightly offensive term.  I know women use it a lot, but men don’t.  I’m going to stick with it to break the male stereotype.  I don’t know why, but I gestured to her to pull ahead of me.  The woman was stooped with thinning grey hair and a protruding lower jaw suggesting some kind of dental issue.  She only had a few items in her cart … a couple of infant cloths and some colorful wrapping paper.  I don’t know why she needed a whole cart for this shopping trip.  She could have carried the items.  However, the huge metal shopping cart suggests some strength and importance, so I understand.  This was a kind person, obviously on a mission to provide a gift for her grandchild.  She clearly could use my help.  I felt somewhat raised in self-esteem as I made this magnanimous gesture to pull ahead of me, helping this poor old woman.  She gave the slightest of a nod and without a word moved her cart deftly to one inch from the front of my cart.

 

I resigned myself to my fate. I would suffer through this interminable wait, about 20 minutes by my estimate, like a good soldier.  I scanned the racks of impulse buying items…maybe some of this stuff could be used for survival…there were some edible objects available…I drifted into a Zen like state, leaning on my cart when I was suddenly jolted.  The frail old lady in front of me had pulled my cart forward several inches to close a slight gap between us.  At first I felt violated.  How dare she grab my cart!  But I quickly understood that intrusion on my Zen like state was no doubt to prevent anyone from getting into our line.  She repeated this gesture twice more as time slowly slid by and the massive line ahead began to shrink a bit.  Clearly this frail old woman was taking charge.  She was a battle worn sergeant and I was just a new recruit, helpless in this place.

 

I decided to observe my superior officer more closely.  Perhaps I had misjudged her.  She was always one inch from the cart or person ahead.  She finally arrived at the counter.  When there was a slight space on the conveyor belt she neatly piled her treasures down, placing the dividing stick against her purchases.  She then had to dispose of her cart temporarily but this was not possible due to the carts and people ahead.  So she moved the cart into a swift and sure K turn, with the cart parked at a perpendicular angle to the conveyor, one inch from it, one inch from a supporting beam oddly placed near the register, and one inch from the woman in front of her.  I admired her driving skill.  I imagined she could probably back a 16 wheeler up to a loading dock in one pass, one inch from it, of course.  Then she motioned for me to step forward and claim my spot at the end of the conveyor belt.

 

As she completed her payment with a credit card, without hesitation or concern, she placed her bags gently into her wagon, which had been repositioned when the purchase was being recorded. She then merged seamlessly into the sea of carts and people in the exit aisle ahead.  Suddenly a few feet from the register she stopped, while others swerved to the right and left to avoid her.  She bent her old, frail frame reaching down to pick up a penny.  Placed into her pocket, she blended back into the sea of humanity, resuming her travels, without comment to anyone, including to her loyal recruit.  She left me to fend for myself having given me the necessary guidance.

 

 

Epilogue

 

Frail Old Lady approached the Walmart doors and they opened obediently as she approached. She pushed the cart slowly along the sidewalk, ignoring the incoming tide of shoppers who flowed by her to the right and left. As she approached the crosswalk, she looked to the left and right.  The traffic slowed a bit and she pushed on into the roadway. The approaching cars reluctantly stopped short, their drivers no doubt annoyed at the extra 20 seconds or so it will now take on their journey.

 

Frail Old Lady moved along at a slow but steady pace, reaching the safety of her handicapped parking space. She slid slowly into her old car, oblivious to the rust and dents.  She exited the parking lot and the drive home in the manner of her shopping life.  She proceeded at exactly the speed limit ignoring others rushing by or trying to cut in front of her.  She drove along the side street filled with worn out 50s ranch houses, some with a fresh paint job, but most looking tired and old like she.

 

As she pulled into a driveway, her son and grandson rushed out of the one story ranch smiling and waving. Her son carried her granddaughter over his should, dressed in a bright red party dress.  Frail Old Lady glanced at her package on the front seat of the car, pleased with her purchase of a new outfit for her granddaughter’s first birthday.  She reached below her seat and extracted an automatic pistol, sliding it smoothly into the right pocket of her somewhat baggy pants.  She pulled her sweatshirt over the bulge, just as her grandson reached the door.  With a smile she extracted herself awkwardly from the vehicle.  She would have no help from her son, though it was offered kindly.  She withdrew a small candy from her left pocket and handed it to her grandson with a big smile. It was their routine but it always thrilled him.

 

Frail Old Lady walked slowly into the house, patting her right side pocket out of habit. She smiled again as she spotted the table in the hall filled with brightly wrapped presents. The stark difference between the exterior and interior of the building was truly remarkable. Marble floors and a magnificent chandelier announced the entrance into another world.  Tapestry and paintings adorned the walls of the living room ahead with rich, Persian rugs before the dark leather sofas.  As he entered the house, her son took off his light jacket revealing his own pistol, securely held in his shoulder holster.  They approached the dining room.

 

She glanced into the dining room, festively decorated with many ribbons and flowers. The birthday cake sat beneath a magnificent chandelier as it awaited the guests in the center of the table.  It announced its purpose, “Happy First, Mary”. Fourteen chairs stood at attention, neatly arranged around the long table. At the end of the table, a walker stood by in case it would be needed later. Frail Old Lady nodded her approval. She turned to her son who offered Mary to her.  Frail Old Lady gently held Mary in her arms and walked to the head of the table. Frail Old Lady leaned close to Mary and whispered, “This chair will be yours someday”.