A Chance Encounter

It was always interesting, on an average day at the checkout counter, to see who you would come across. I don't mean that you would see people you know, only that you could meet some interesting characters. I'd also found that the sort of people you talked to depended on which aisle you'd been put on that shift.

For instance, there was the express line (1-12 items ONLY!). Those shoppers were usually in a rush, just picking up a few last-minute items, like for a barbeque or a party of some sort. And practically every third customer tried to sneak in more items than were allowed. My manager was fussy about this. I, on the other hand, didn't really care if someone had slipped in an extra loaf of bread. He'd been working at this grocery store for too long.

Then there was the specialty area. Where people could buy lottery tickets if they were feeling lucky, or smokes if they were feeling stressed. All the little items, from camera film to batteries were here. It was less hectic, not as busy, so I liked to work there some days.

But on this particular day, I was just at a regular cash register. At least I wasn't stuck stocking shelves or even worse, on produce duty. Maybe I've been working here too long too.

It was around two o' clock on a Saturday afternoon. I'd been pulling a double-shift and had been at the store since eight-thirty. And I wouldn't get home until after eight. Anyway, I was at my checkout counter, just recovering from an encounter with a man in his mid-forties with a beer belly and a bad case of body odour. Then these two teenagers, the next in line, put down their groceries. There wasn't much there—just a couple of loaves of bread, a bag of sugar and three cartons of chocolate milk. They looked like they had to be brothers. I wondered why two guys like them would be the ones doing the grocery shopping.

"You know, you could've gotten through faster in the express lane," I told them. "There's less than twelve things here." I got to work totalling up the prices.

"Yeah. But, uh, there's nobody there," the older boy pointed with a grin. I looked over to the express lane and sure enough, there was a sign that said "Please Use Other Cash". Shirley was goofing off again, I thought with a groan.

"Sorry about that," I apologized.

"Don't worry about it," he replied. The younger boy, the one I'd assumed was his brother, looked vaguely familiar to me. I just couldn't place him, though. I had that nagging feeling that I'd seen him before, but much as I racked my brain I couldn't remember where.

When he spoke, his voice even sounded so…I don't know, like I'd heard it before. Actually, I definitely remembered hearing it. A lot. But I couldn't think of where.

"Soda, you forgot to pick up some coffee for Darry," he reminded his brother quietly. Soda smacked his forehead.

"Okay. I'll go grab some. You stay here with the other groceries," he told him, hurrying away to one of the aisles. He was going to the wrong one. But I didn't say anything.

So the younger boy was here, just avoiding eye contact, fingering a pack of cigarettes. I rolled my eyes. What was the use of getting into a habit like that at his age? All it would do was give him bad teeth down the road. Or kill him.

"So you're gonna need coffee added to the bill?" I questioned, bagging the other stuff.

He nodded. "Yes, please." And then I could've snapped my fingers as I realized where I'd seen him before. He was that kid from the bus that one day after work! Only back then he'd had blond hair. No wonder I hadn't recognized him right away. But there was something else about him, too…something I couldn't quite put my finger on.

The older boy, Soda, came rushing back with a package of coffee. The customers next in line were getting impatient, starting to grumble amongst themselves. But then Soda shot them this confident grin and they shut right up. I shook my head, smiling to myself even. Amazing what a good-looking kid could do, even to a bunch of adults. He even had his brother smiling.

"Okay, here's the coffee," he announced, slapping it down so I could add the price to the total.

They paid and were about to leave when something dropped behind them. I bent down and picked it up. It was a photograph. I wasn't sure how it'd gotten there, but it seemed to be a family picture. A mom, a dad, and three boys. Two of them the ones in the grocery store.

I didn't know why but it choked me up. Maybe because I hadn't seen my own parents in so long, and had never raised the family I dreamed about. Maybe because I had no idea where my own baby ended up.

"Hey! You dropped this," I started to call, but they were already out of the store. I saw them through the window, walking down the street, talking and laughing about something.

I couldn't explain why I wanted to keep it, but I tucked it away into my pocket. I would probably never know who the family was or see them again, but you never know. You never knew what kind of connection you could have to a person you met in a grocery store.

And besides, they might come back.

They'd forgotten the coffee.

There you go. A little more from Katherine. I think that's the last I'll do of her though, as someone (Megh?) said, I wouldn't want Ponyboy to go all "Mommy" with her after the other story, Not. Lol. But you never know…anything is possible in the world of fanfiction, after all! By the way, did you like how I created her character?