Grocery Shopping by JJ Ritonya

JJ Ritonya is a self published author with one title to his name and another novel soon to be released. Sunset, an apocalyptic zombie tale was published in November of 2008 by Createspace. Hubbert's Peak, a novel taking place in the post Oil-War era in the desolate wastelands formerly known as the United States has a tentative release date of April 2009.

JJ Ritonya is a native of Omaha, NE where he currently resides with his wife and two daughters. Visit the official website of JJ Ritonya at www.jjritonya.com.

Phillip parked his 1986 Volvo in a slanted parking stall just next to the metal piped bins used for cart returns. It was 2 a.m. which is when he always did his shopping. The less people he had to come in contact with the better. He always hated dealing with people which is why he loved his job. Phillip was the graveyard shift Computer Operator at a local bank. His job was to make sure the processing jobs ran to completion along with printing bills which would be stuffed and delivered the next day. The best part of his job was that he was the only person in the building during his 11 p.m. to 7 a.m. shift. The nights usually flew by. If the jobs processed without errors and the printers didn't break down he had plenty of time to read, surf the net or just space off if he wanted to.

His schedule had him working Tuesday through Saturday which meant he had Sunday and Monday off. Today was Sunday and Phillip liked to keep his sleeping schedule the same on his days off which is why he was doing his grocery shopping at 2 a.m. He had tried to live the double life, sleeping during the day during his work week then going back to sleeping at night during his days off. It didn't work. On his first night back after his weekend he always felt run down and tired and could barely make it through his shift without falling asleep.

He closed the door to his car and pressed the button on his key chain to automatically lock the doors. The beep he heard confirmed they were locked as he walked across the semi-dark parking lot towards the Shop 4 Less. This wasn't the closest grocery store to his home. The Food Rite was just a couple blocks away and much nicer than this store. The problem was it was much more expensive than the Shop 4 Less. He drove an extra mile to get to this store but the money he saved was worth it. The salary of a Computer Operator was nothing to brag about so Phillip had to pinch his pennies when he could.

Many of the overhead lights in the parking lot were burnt out leaving it shadowy and gloomy at night. Shop 4 Less was able to save you money by not replacing the bulbs or bagging your groceries for you. Up ahead, Phillip saw a man get out of a dark sedan and begin walking toward the ad covered automatic doors at the front of the store. Some people had all the luck. That spot was taken when Phillip drove by just a minute earlier. The guy must have pulled into the lot just as the previous driver pulled out. Sometimes you were just in the right place at the right time.

Phillip noticed the man was wearing a long, brown leather coat that almost reached his ankles. The weather hadn't turned chilly yet although it was September. He guessed it wasn't all that out of the ordinary. He remembered his last trip to Phoenix when he visited his mother. It was sixty degrees and people wore sweatshirts and jackets like it was below freezing outside.

Phillip followed the man inside the store, impressed by the man's size and stature. Phillip's physique would never be described as "cut" or "buff". The words to describe his body were more along the lines of "plump" or "lumpy". The man who walked in front of him was as close as you could get to the exact opposite of Phillip. He was tall, probably six foot four, he looked as if he weighed about two hundred twenty pounds and without seeing his face, Phillip was sure he was handsome. His brown hair was styled and cut short. He walked with a confidence Phillip would never have and his body language seemed to emanate a sense of superiority.

The man walked past the checkout counters and disappeared down an aisle leaving Phillip to sort through the carts. Inevitably he would pick one with a squeaky wheel or one that had only three wheels that would rotate. The fourth would drag along the floor making it hard to push and pull to the left or right depending on which side it was on. After carefully selecting his cart, Phillip was off to the produce section. He needed carrots and potatoes for a roast he would be cooking later this week and fruit for a dish he would take to his mother's next weekend. Phillip picked through the strawberries looking for some that didn't look bruised and battered. He pushed the cart up the aisle past the produce and marveled at his luck. All four wheels on his cart spun as they should and none squealed like a banshee. SCORE!

Phillip picked a bag of chips off the shelf and placed them gently in cart making sure not to crush them. Nothing made him madder than a bag full of crushed potato chips. He continued on toward the soda pop which was further down the aisle. He had to have his orange soda. He loved to watch movies while eating chips and drinking his orange soda. Life's pleasures were so few and this was not one he was willing to give up.

A sound from the other end of the store grabbed Phillips attention. It sounded as if someone dropped a glass container to the floor shattering it into a million pieces. A small scream followed as if the shattering glass had startled someone. Phillip looked in the direction of the noise but saw no one. He returned to his shopping as if nothing had happened.

The next few aisles contained canned vegetables and fruits, soups and tomato products such as spaghetti sauces and tomato paste. Phillip filled his cart with the usual "pasta in a can" dinners, a few cans of chicken noodle soup with vegetables and canned corn and peas. In the next aisle he found the apple juice and loaded a couple one gallon jugs into his cart along with a few packs of Kool-Aid. He turned the corner to the next aisle where he knew he'd find packets of sauces, ketchup and mustard along with other condiments and pastas. He must have been going too fast and not paying attention to where he was going. The cart stopped abruptly and when Phillip looked up he realized he pushed the front of his cart directly into the legs of the man he followed into the store a few minutes earlier.

"Sorry about that," Phillip said in a quiet voice.

The man wore dark sunglasses over his eyes so Phillip could not read them. He didn't move nor did he speak. He just stared at Phillip through his dark shades. His mouth was a thin, unwavering line that was not an expression Phillip could recognize. It was like the Terminator movie where Arnold Schwarzenegger played a robot void of any feelings or emotion. It brought a chill to Phillip's spine as he quickly maneuvered the cart around the man and continued on without looking back. His forehead had begun to sweat and his pulse raced. He did not like confrontations and this minor one had sent his heart into an all out sprint.

"Who wears their sunglasses indoors anyway?" he thought. "What a moron."

Phillip quickly went about his business, scurrying down aisle after aisle gathering his things. Suddenly he no longer wanted to be shopping. He wished he were at home sitting on his couch, watching a movie and sipping an ice cold orange soda. The run in with the man was bothering him more than he wanted to admit. He would be fine once he was out of the store and driving home. He only had a few aisles and a couple items left on his list. He would soon be at the front, checking out then driving home and all of this would be a distant memory.

Suddenly Phillip was aware that he hadn't seen anyone since entering the store. Well, that was not exactly true. He had seen the man in the long leather coat but no one else; no fellow shoppers, no stock boys or check-out clerks, not even a friendly manager; only the man who wore his sunglasses indoors and at night. A shiver ran down his spine as he let the thought sink in. It was just silly. Where could everyone else have gone? They certainly wouldn't just leave the store open with the lights on and go home without locking up. That would be insane. The manager would surely lose his job over something like this. Phillip would make sure of it. His supervisor would be getting a scathing email once he made it home and logged on to his computer, that's for sure.

Another noise from a few aisles behind Phillip made him jump. The sound of many items, probably canned food, hit the floor in unison. It was as if someone had knocked over a large display full of canned soup or vegetables. Phillip pressed on not wanting to know what was going on in the aisles behind him. The next aisle was the frozen foods section and he filled his cart with frozen pizzas, a gallon of vanilla ice cream and frozen waffles for breakfast. Next was the dairy section where he gathered cheese, milk and a few containers of yogurt. The last item he needed was lunch meat from the deli. After he made small talk with the night butcher he could get his salami, pay for his groceries and get out of here. The need to be at home was beginning to press on Phillip's mood. He wanted nothing more than to be sitting on his couch right now. He had to remind himself that he was not far from home and would be there within the hour. It seemed to help calm his nerves as he approached the deli counter.

He scanned the glass display case looking for the specific salami he liked to eat. He found it half way down the counter and looked up for the butcher. No one was in sight. He turned around and looked up and down the three aisles he could see from where he stood. It was like a graveyard in here. The store was eerily quiet except for the elevator music that played quietly on the store's sound system. Phillip turned back to the display and looked behind the counter for signs of an employee that could help him. That was when he saw the large metal door to the cooler sat slightly ajar. He could see the cold air escaping out into the warmer air creating a slight steam effect. The door was ajar only six inches but from where Phillip stood he could not see inside. Then he noticed something on the floor almost out of his view. It appeared to be a shoe just barely visible at the edge of the door. Phillip walked to his right to get a better angle on the door and was surprised when he could actually see that it was in fact someone's black dress shoe. He could also barely make out the cuff of a pair of pants which hung down near the edge of the heel. Phillip came to the realization that someone lay inside the cooler just out of his view.

He turned again and scanned the aisles he could see from where he stood. No customers or employees were to be seen. He was sure he hadn't seen anyone else but the man in the leather coat since he walked in. He pushed his cart toward the front of the store, quickly passing the bakery. He needed more bread and hot dog buns but right now that didn't matter. He only wanted to be out of the store.

As he rounded the corner of the aisle and came to the front of the store he saw the first employee he had seen since entering a half hour ago. A young girl, most likely still in her teens stood at one of the checkout counters halfway down the aisle. The number seven was lit on the post which stood out against the other, unlit lamps. Lucky for him, Phillip thought as he blew out the air in his chest. He hadn't realized until now that he had been holding his breath for quite some time. He was winded even though he was not exerting himself in the least. He walked toward the girl feeling relieved and foolish. Why did he work himself up into this frenzied state of mind? The fear he felt was self imposed and just a scenario built up in his imagination.

He reached the checkout counter and began piling the items onto the black conveyor belt as he berated himself in his mind. He looked up and noticed the girl looking at him. Her eyes were sad and wet as if she had been crying. She quickly looked away and began scanning his items. He didn't have the usual three or four bags that he normally did. The items would most likely fill two bags at best but that was okay. He could come back another time if he needed to. The girl continued to pass the items over the scanner then move them to the far end of the counter. They began to pile up so Phillip decided to begin bagging them. He moved to the end of the counter and reached down to grab a plastic bag. When he stood back up he noticed the man in the leather coat a few aisles down. He stood facing Phillip, his eyes still covered with the dark sunglasses. He held a magazine but did not read it. Phillip was sure of that. He could feel the man's eyes on him through the dark lenses as he quickly began throwing his groceries into the bags. Why did this man make him feel so uneasy? Was it his size or his mannerisms? Phillip didn't know. He felt as if somehow he were in danger and wanted nothing more than to be out of the store. The checkout girl finished scanning the final items and looked up at Phillip through her wet eyes. She spoke with a small and pained voice as if she were terrified.

"$34.96," she said.

Phillip fumbled through his wallet and pulled out his credit card, handing it to the girl with a shaking hand. He finished bagging his groceries and was glad that they fit in two sacks. He didn't want to have to take a cart outside. He wanted only to throw the bags in the back seat and drive home as fast as he could. He stood, waiting impatiently for his receipt so he could get out of there. His foot tapped nervously on the ground as the girl swiped his card for the third time.

"It's not working," she murmured as she wiped at her eyes. For the first time she looked over her shoulder at the man in the leather coat then turned back to look at him with fear in her eyes.

Phillip fumbled through his wallet again producing two twenty dollar bills, handing them to her without taking his eyes from his grocery bags. He was afraid he would look up and see the man still staring at him through his dark glasses. He risked a peek and noticed the man was no longer there. Phillip looked around quickly but there was no sign of him. The girl handed him his change and Phillip quickly snatched his bags from the counter and walked briskly toward the door. He really should call the police or someone. There was definitely something going on in the store. He didn't know what but he was sure it was against the law. He continued across the parking lot trying to decide what he should do. He really didn't want to get involved. It wasn't his problem anymore. What could he do anyway? Call the police and say that there was this scary man staring at him in the grocery store? Phillip was sure they would rush right over. He could imagine himself spending the rest of his weekend answering questions and being badgered by detectives when all he wanted to do was sit on his couch and watch a movie. Nope, it wasn't his problem.

Phillip glanced back over his shoulder in a nervous, involuntary motion. He was unable to stop himself from looking back if wanted to. He saw the man in the leather coat standing at the checkout counter where Phillip stood just a minute before. The man quickly turned his head and looked at Phillip, then began to run toward the door. Phillip panicked and broke into a full sprint toward his car. When he reached the driver's door, he realized he hadn't pressed the button on his keychain to unlock the doors. He fumbled with the keys and somehow found the unlock button on the first try. He flung the door open and threw himself into the seat, heaving the bags of groceries into the back. Next, he jabbed the key toward the ignition with shaking hands, sliding it in on the third try. He turned the key and the motor caught on the first crank of the starter. Thank God for Swedish engineering, he thought. With a yank of his right hand he brought put the transmission into reverse and slammed his foot down on the gas. The Volvo jumped backward into the aisle barely missing the bumper of a car parked on the opposite aisle. Phillip jammed the car into drive then risked a look in the rear view mirror. His mind envisioned the man in the leather coat running down the center of the aisle toward him, his long coat flowing out behind him as his arms and legs pumped in a graceful dash. What he saw was nothing. The man had disappeared.

Phillip began to put his foot down on the accelerator when a thumping noise came from the window on his left. The man in the leather coat was hammering his fist on the driver's side window of Phillip's Volvo. Phillip panicked and slammed his foot down on the accelerator. The car jumped forward leaving the man behind with his hand raised in the air.

Phillip's heart thumped heavily in his chest as he drove home. Sweat had broken out on his forehead and his arms and legs shook like a quivering mass of Jell-o. He knew he had barely escaped death and should really call the authorities. But again, what would he tell them? That some man had chased him down in the parking lot of the Shop 4 Less? Big deal, they would say. Phillip could hear them now. They would act dutiful and take his name and information, then most likely throw the file in the trash the second they were off the phone. The police had more important things to worry about like drug dealers and murderers. But what had he seen in the deli? Was it the body of a murdered butcher? If it was, it was his duty to call it in. But if it wasn't, he would look like a fool. No sir; Phillip would not play the fool for anyone. He would mind his own business like his mother taught him. It was for the best.

When he reached his apartment he parked his car under the security lights not wanting to get out in the dark. He gathered the groceries from the back seat which had scattered when he threw them in. Luckily no containers were broken. He walked to the second floor and let himself into his apartment. Once inside he put the groceries away then grabbed an orange soda and bag of chips and sat down on the sofa. After a few frustrating minutes looking for the remote he found it wedged between two of the sofa cushions. He pushed the red power button and settled back as the TV powered on. He tore open the bag of chips and began chomping hungrily on the salty treat.

What he saw on the screen made him freeze in mid-crunch. The sound was down on the set so he couldn't hear what the reporter was saying. A pretty, blond news correspondent was standing in front of the Shop 4 Less Phillip had left just minutes earlier. She spoke as if gravely concerned by the look on her face. Red flashes could be seen against the front of the store from the many emergency vehicles that were parked nearby. As she spoke, a duo of paramedics wheeled a stretcher out of the store and began loading it into the back of the ambulance. On the stretcher was a body covered from head to toe with a blanket.

Panic rose in Phillip as he watched the events unfold in front of him. Had the man in the leather coat been a murderer? Did he kill all the employees in the Shop 4 Less? Was he lucky to be alive right now? These and many other questions filled his mind as he wondered what he should do. Should he call the authorities and let them know he was there? What would he tell them? That he had purchased groceries while a massacre occurred right under his nose? Would he be a suspect? No, he couldn't call the police. If he didn't die from embarrassment he could definitely spend the rest of his weekend in an interrogation room or worse, in jail.

Phillip suddenly realized he needed to urinate very badly. He set the remote down and stood up when there was a knock at the door. Shit! He couldn't believe he had forgotten again. His neighbor, Mrs. Kellogg asked him to walk her dog, Bingo this evening while she was out playing Keno. He was an annoying Cocker Spaniel that yapped more than any dog should. The little bastard had probably shit on the floor and now she wanted to know why.

"I'm coming, Mrs. Kellogg," he said. "I'm sorry, I forgot."

Phillip threw open the door in his rush not bothering to look through the peephole to see who it was. Mrs. Kellogg would be furious and he wanted to be rid of her quickly.

"I'll come over and clean it up if you…"

What he saw froze him in mid-sentence. The man in the leather coat stood motionless on the other side of the door. He looked at Phillip through his dark shades, his stare piercing Phillip's skin with an icy wave of terror. Phillip felt lightheaded and blacked out as his knees gave way and he fell to the floor.

Phillip knew he was dreaming or hallucinating or something. He didn't know what to call it he just knew it wasn't real. He was back in the Shop 4 Less again checking out as he did earlier tonight. The girl was not sad but angry this time. She scanned his items and practically threw them down the belt to the end of the counter. The soda cans smashed into the chips crushing them into tiny pieces. Phillip said nothing, just wanting the moment to be over just as he had earlier. He looked around and saw the man in the leather coat a few aisles over. The racks only came to his shoulder and Phillip could see his head and neck as he walked backward along the aisle. He appeared to be struggling with something heavy as Phillip watched. The man came to a break in the racks allowing Phillip to view him in his entirety. As he crossed the open space, Phillip could see him dragging the butcher's limp body across the tile floor. His feet disappeared from view and the only thing visible once again was the man's head and neck. The girl was now finished ringing up his items and was asking for payment. Phillip reached for his wallet and suddenly realized it was gone. He patted the outside of his pants and coat pockets desperately seeking his billfold but came up empty. When he looked up, the man in the leather coat stood a few feet away. His right hand was raised at shoulder height and in his hand was Phillip's wallet.

The sound of the female reporter's voice accompanied Phillip's entrance into the conscious world. He remembered passing out but nothing else. His eyes focused on the TV and the female reporter but the words she spoke did not register. The sound had been turned down before and he struggled to figure out how it was now audible. The man in the leather coat!

Phillip's eyelids shot open and his eyes darted around the room. The man sat across from him in a chair and watched the television. He appeared to be very relaxed and calm for a crazed murderer. When he realized Phillip was awake he slowly stood and crossed the room toward him. Again, he was amazed at the grace and confidence the man carried himself with. The awe he felt was quickly replaced with a degree of fear Phillip had never felt before. It was as if his chest were filled with electricity and his arms and legs were circuits in a high voltage conductor. His body shook uncontrollably as the man approached the couch and reached into the right pocket of his coat. Phillip could not see the object he retrieved because his hands were held up defensively in front of his face. He whimpered like a beaten dog as tears began to escape his eyes.

"You forgot this," the man said, dropping on object onto Phillip's chest.

Then he walked out the door, closing it softly behind him. Phillip opened his eyes when he heard the door click shut and looked down at the object on his chest. It was his credit card. The man had simply come to return it to him. The female reporter on the television continued to babble on about the incident at the grocery store. A caption at the bottom of the screen read: Night butcher has heart attack at local grocery store. The camera panned to her right and focused in on the girl who had checked Phillip out earlier.

"Tell us what happened," the reporter said.

"Well," the girl began. "It was slow like any other night. My boyfriend came in to keep me company like he sometimes does. We ended up getting into a fight somehow. Then a customer came in. I rang up his stuff and right after he left I realized he forgot his credit card. My boyfriend ran out to catch him but he had already gone. Then I went back to stocking like I do when it's slow. That's when I found Pete. He was lying in the cooler."

© 2009 by JJ Ritonya