Stars of Clay

Episode Two: The Girl Who Ran to the Moon

     "Well, I don't think the water was ever really free was it?" Amy couldn't help herself; besides the ketchup explosion earlier and Sandra's meltdown in the deep freeze, it was a rather slow night. "I mean, maybe it was really cheap, but you got a water bill, no?"

     "Your manager!"

     "Sure, let me get her for you." Amy suddenly remembered her customer-service smile, and quietly promised to stop being so cheeky. "But just so you know, I left her mopping up a huge mess, which usually doesn't leave her in a great mood... but if you really want me to... I'm sure she can come up and use her big fancy manager calculator." She cringed immediately and looked away, that was too far...

     But there was no reply, and when Amy looked back the old lady stood motionless, her head hanging low, an outstretched hand in midst of the particularly rude gesture of a bird. A long wheezing moan passed through her thin pursed lips, sputtering off to a dead silence.

     "Uh, ma'am?"

     Amy scanned the checkout center for help, but no one was paying attention besides the tall guy next in line. Kind of cute, thought Amy, if he weren't staring like a creep. Cute in like a nerdy movie star kind of way, she amended upon further study. She didn't typically go for brunettes but there was something magnetic about his eyes, green with burst of hazel around the pupils. When he noticed her staring back, the young man smiled and said,

     "You've already forgotten about the old lady, haven't you?"

     With a gasp, she snapped back to Mrs. Larkin, who still stood frozen by the paypad. Amy felt frozen too, except to reach out and touch the lady's shoulder. It felt soft and warm, like when she last hugged her grandmother.

     "Hey, are you OK?" she asked, and looked around again. Why won't anyone help?

     "Wow," the cute guy said, "you really broke one properly this time, huh?" Amy wheeled.

     "Are you just going to stand there?" she burst, panicking. "Get help! Call someone!"

     Suddenly, manager Sandra ran up from the back of the store, heaving.

     "You paged?" she asked between wheezes, "what's wrong?"

     "No, she didn't," said the tall guy.

     "What?" Amy and Sandra retorted in unison. This weirdo was looking less cute by the minute...

     "If you'll remember, Amy," he said, and stepped over to Mrs Larkin, then gently lowered her middle finger. "You never called for the manager. This lady asked you to, and you never did. And then, this happened." He bent down and opened one of the old woman's sagging eyelids. Satisfied, he stood and turned to Sandra. "No, she never called you, you're a diversion to get us back on track. On script. And if that doesn't work, they'll show up soon."

     "Look here, my dude," snorted Sandra, "I have no idea what you're on about, but if you have any idea the kind of night I've had, you'd shut your mouth and let the adults do the talking, mmmkay?"

     "Yes ma'am," he replied with a snappy salute. "but only if Amy here can tell me where she works." Looking to Amy his hand lowered, "and don't just say you work 'here.' What is the name of this store?"

     "Are you crazy? There is an elderly person here having a real medical emergency--will someone PLEASE call 911!"

     "You call them." He shrugged. "Don't you have a phone on you? What century are we in?"

     "Well I - Yeah, I'm sure I have one... around here..." Amy patted her pockets and searched around the register.

     "Where do you work?" he insisted.