[For disclaimers, explanations, etc ... and possibly the beginning of story ... see yesterday's post.]
The aisles at Walmart stretched out alluringly in all directions, but Dorothea knew she should focus solely on bread and oil. Oil. Why were Walmart shoppers so overwhelmingly overweight? No. She should be charitable. She glanced down at her own thickening waist. Was that from too much oil? Was thinking about her waist vanity? But maybe she should cook with less oil? Oil. Jesus made the jar produce oil, so oil must be ok. And he ate fish. She couldn’t for a moment remember why Mark had decreed they should eschew fish. Was it just Walmart fish, raised in polluted fish farm? Or was it all fish? She really should not be questioning Mark’s wisdom as he knew so much about scripture. But Jesus did eat fish and hang out with fishermen, didn’t he?
Dorothea glanced up and realized that she was standing in front of the frozen fish. How had she gotten here? Was that why she was thinking of fish? The tilapia was on sale: four pounds for $10.75. Maybe she had come over here because she was thinking of fish. And she shouldn’t think about fish.
What time was it? Mark would be waiting. Dorothea headed purposefully for the check-out with her bread. The lines were so long. Every cart seemed filled to the brim, even the speedy checkout lines, the ones that used to be 5 items. Now it was 25 items, but no one seemed to be paying any to the limit. Her eye caught by a jigsaw puzzle with a flag, Dorothea passed the checkout lines and studied the puzzles. They had so much pink in them. Where were the puzzles of mountains? Oh, here was one. Even this puzzle has pink flowers in the alpine meadow, she thought.
A couple kids ran by, really young kids, maybe you should call them toddlers. The mother yelled at them and they ran back, only to be swooped up and plopped into the shopping cart, where they instantly started pulling each other’s hair. The mother ignored them. Dorothea started following them, trying to be surreptitious. The toddlers yelled ever more loudly while the mother calmly surveyed the vast array of toothpastes. Why were there so many brands? Even the brands had brands … sensitive, whitening, all-inclusive care, gum care, minty fresh and on and on. Why so many? Why was the mother ignoring the kids? Mark said they should use baking soda. Oh, look, there is even a baking soda toothpaste! But baking soda tastes so bad. Mark said that using baking soda would keep the corporate conspiracy at bay. She couldn’t see how a little bit of minty fresh taste would hurt her soul or that it would make much of a dent in corporate profits if she used baking soda. And if you bought your baking soda at WalMart, wouldn’t that help their corporate profits?
Speaking of which, she had better give WalMart some money and walk home. The toddlers were now making a ruckus in front of the painkillers; the mother still ignored them. Dorothea made an exaggerated funny frown at one of the kids. He instantly stopped howling and fixed her with a stare. The other one joined him. The mother noticed the ensuing quiet and snapped at Dorothea to mind her own business. She pushed her now quiet kids around the corner.
Dorothea wondered what her own business might be. If you didn’t have a job and you didn’t have any money, did you have business? Well, she did have some money since Mark had given her enough for bread and oil. Maybe homemaking was business. What would her own mother have said?
Could it really be true that a mother could be a bad influence? Mark had ideas about that, too. Did Jesus say you should love your mother? Or maybe it was a commandment. No, the commandment said to honor your mother. She had to honor that mother, she supposed. Following someone else’s toddlers around WalMart was surely wrong. But the momentary connection with an unknown kid had been so strong that Dorothea wanted to chase that feeling around the store. Gosh. She was married. It was really amazing how alone a married woman could be.
Your story is black and dark; her grip on reality is leaving her in rent pieces like crows tossed into the wind... I'd like the cover to reflect that. Fav for the story though....
