Dr. Hannibal Lecter stood on his front porch and took a deep breath of the crisp, fall Rhode Island air. He'd arrived there in Charlestown earlier that morning and after a brief sleep he stepped outside to view his neighborhood. It was quiet and well kept; a slight mist had settled about the town making the other homes look sleepy.
"Oh Clarice…" Lecter smiled, "how you've conformed."
Dr. Lecter retired to the comforts of his new home for some breakfast and tea before setting out on the small town.
Anne checked her wrist watch; ten minutes until her lunch break was over. The half an hour she usually got for lunch was as usual, over too quickly. She tossed the rest of her pasta salad and shoved the empty tupper wear back in her locker and stuffed a piece of mint gum in her mouth. She washed her hands and checked her modest make-up in the mirror, blew a bubble and took to the stairs.
She flipped her dark hair and put on her best smile for the customers as she made her way to the front of the supermarket she worked at.
"Uh, excuse me Miss." A voice called out to her touching her elbow gently.
"Yes, Sir." Anne said sweetly.
It all the manners she had not to let her face fall and the sight of his stump that was resting on her forearm. Painted on smile in place, the shock passed and she could think again.
"Can I help you?"
"Uh, yes, I'm having some trouble getting the items in my basket to stay in my basket." The older gentleman said kindly motioning to his basket on the other arm. A box of water crackers, a block of brie and a bottle of wine were hap-hazardly strewn in the basket among the other groceries.
"Oh sure," Anne smiled re-arranging the items to fit, "you know we have shopping carts up front and we also offer personal shoppers for those who have a problem getting around."
"No, no, no that's quite alright Miss… uh," the gentleman said staring at her name tag, "A. Banana?"
"Oh!" Anne giggled. "I'm Anne. Banana is my nickname. Anne Banana."
"Oh I see." The gentleman nodded. "Well, thank you very much, young lady."
"It was no problem." Anne assured him. "If you need further assistance any one of our courtesy clerks would be more than happy to help and when you're ready to check out you can see me at—"
"Register six, please, Anne!" the front-end manager's voice called over the intercom.
"Right." Anne sighed. "You can find me at register six. Have a nice day."
Anne gave the gentleman one last smile before swiftly cutting through the isles to get back to her register before the manager could call for her again.
"Banana!" Irene the manager called as Anne signed back on to register six. "Why were you late? I never have to call you."
"I was helping a customer, Irene." Anna said making sure Irene didn't see her rolling her eyes. "Can I help the next person in line?"
"Okay, but next time come back to the front first. This is where you're supposed to be, Anne" Irene said in what Anne and the other front-end employees thought was a mock polite tone.
Anne heard Keiera behind her snickering as Irene went back to her post at the self-check out and as soon as Keiera and Anne were out of customers, Anne turned and threw a pack of gum at her best friend.
"She is such a pain." Anne giggled and she walked to the front of her lane to wait for her next customer.
"I know," Keiera giggled following Anne's lead, "I hate getting in trouble for doing my job."
They stood in line waiting patiently and about once every fifteen minutes they would get one customer a piece and it was back to the end of the of their lane to wait for the next. This is why Anne hated working Sundays; she spent more time standing around doing nothing than actually helping anyone.
"But it beats going to church with your folks, doesn't it?" Keiera asked Anne. "Seemingly endless droning of a gospel you don't really believe in burrowing its way into your brain. Oh, and then that loving awkward dinner with your folks and grandparents."
"You're right," Anne sighed, smiling, "I'd rather be bored than brainwashed then subsequently crushed to death by tension."
"And lucky us," Keiera smiled, "we not only get to be bored with each other but we also have customers at your eleven o'clock."
"Ready to check out?" Anne and Keiera smiled. To Anne's surprise the older gentleman from before, made an almost deliberate beeline for her getting to her lane before the other customer could make up their mind as to which register to go to.
"Well, hello again, Sir." Anne smiled as she began to ring up and bag his groceries.
"Hello, Anne." He smiled looking at the screen where his total was being calculated before him.
"Hey, Banana!" Keiera called. "What's the code for cucumber?"
"Forty, sixty-two." Anne replied not looking.
"Gracias."
"Uh, excuse me, Anne." The gentleman said clearing his throat. "The brie is supposed to two-dollars off."
"I'm sorry, Sir." Anne apologized. "I'll check this week's ad." She took out the ad and scanned it for the troublesome brie. She frowned slightly when she did not see brie on sale.
"I'm sorry but it's muenster, feta and gouda that's on sale this week not the brie." She said closing the ad and folding it.
"Well, I saw that but the sign back there does not say which cheese is on sale it just says 'Specialty Cheeses On Sale for Two Dollars Less.'" The gentleman stated firmly.
"I see," Anne nodded bagging the last item, "well to make up for our error, if you still want it, I'll give it to you for the sale price."
"Well, it's not worth getting you into trouble so—"
"Oh, it's no trouble at all." Anne shrugged punching keys. "This is a mistake that happens a tad too often, so I do this all the time. No trouble at all. That'll be twenty-three dollars and forty-five cents; how will you be paying?"
"Charge." The gentleman replied pulling out a gold credit card.
Anne punched another key and gave the credit card a hard swipe, "Will you be requiring assistance in the parking lot, Mr. Gentile?"
"No, I believe I can manage, thank you." Mr. Gentile replied as Anne gave him his copy of the receipt.
"Don't say, I didn't offer." Anne warned playfully as she handed Mr. Gentile his bags.
"Oh, I won't." he chuckled.
"Alright, you have a nice day." Anne smiled.
As he exited the store Mr. Gentile found himself startled by young Anne's resemblance to an old friend. She had the same pointed nose and narrow jaw. The same thin frame and she held a look in her eye that he felt he would carry with him into his sleep.
Could she be?
He turned back to get one last look at her and saw a woman speaking with her in what looked like a hurried tone. He could see Anne roll her eyes and give the woman a playful smirk... and they looked so alike.
"Clarice?" he asked himself.
The woman began walking in his direction and he turned back away and continued slowly out letting the woman pass him on the way. He got no other look at her and she rushed to her car where a man was waiting for her.
Clarice?