Chapter 3: Mini-Mart Mayhem
Fran was walking towards the convenient store when it started to rain all of a sudden. She touched the top of her hair and she could feel droplets of water. Seeing a newspaper that must have blown in the wind, she picked it up and held it over her head. The city was so beautiful when it rained. She loved it when the streets were shiny and they mirrored your reflection. When cars raced through, the lights on them would send out streaks of color like a blurry rainbow. The rubber tires on the automobiles would devour the small puddles and you could hear the splash, as the water was flown. Right now, this particular avenue was deserted though, so she didn't get to experience all of the very wonderful things of the cloudburst. Of course, that didn't mean she couldn't play in it. Fran opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, like a small child would do in the rain.
"Let me taste your tears," Fran said to the sky.
She always thought of the rain as the sky crying and when the sky is sunny, it's happy. Fran tasted the autumn rain—so new, fresh and unfamiliar the water was. She then tasted her own warm tears that coursed down her cheeks and she could feel the saltiness on her tongue. The misery that was so common existed in each small drop.
Fran reached her hand out to feel the rain
"Let me feel your pain," she said to the sky again. "Pour your sorrow down on me."
The rain slowly tapped atop her palm. It felt so good. She felt as if she could hold up the rain and stop it from its terrible destiny of splashing to the cement. Of course that was just silly, they were just little raindrops. It was just nice to be in control for once. The only thing she thought she could handle, because she definitely couldn't manage her haphazard emotions. Even when drunk, they still somehow slipped their way in.
She remembered herself as a child, in a bright yellow raincoat, hat and boots jumping into puddles. Fran giggled at the thought of her childhood.
'Being a child... so carefree and unaware of how the world really works. Until they grow up and see what they had their eyes shielded to all along. There is so much happiness and love and beauty on this planet, yet there is still so much evil and hate and hurting. Why is it that when it rains, all the memories come flooding out? Even when I 'm drunk, even when I'm away from that house, all I can think about is him. I just want to forget everything and be happy and have fun and be silly and stupid.'
She grabbed a hold of a streetlamp pole and spun around, holding her arm out. Fran got dizzy though and started to walk on the sidewalk all zigzagged. She watched as a woman with sandy blonde hair walked into the 24-hour Laundromat up ahead, carrying a plastic, square basket full of clothes. Fran rubbed her temple, her head throbbing, as she went up and looked through the big glass window at the inside. For it being so late, it was strange seeing people wash their clothes.
'I guess they have to do it sometime or another.'
She watched the circle washing machines with the glass windows go round and round and round and round and round—and... she closed her eyes quickly, because it made her woozy.
"I'm getting dizzy and I have a headache," she whined aloud to herself. "I need a cigarette."
Fran slowly stepped away from the window and walked next-door to the mini-mart. A bright neon sign hung above the entrance that flashed: Quick N' Handy. That was the name of the mini-mart. She pulled open the glass door and the little bell on the top dinged. Fran entered the store and stumbled down the floor tiles, almost knocking over a whole magazine rack in the process. She leaned up against the front counter to steady herself. Her hair was matted and damp from the rain.
"Pack of Marlboro Lights," requested Fran, her voice desperately trying to sound out the words.
Fran swished her hand to try to point to the shelves of cigarettes and squinted her eyes to focus better.
The man started to reach for the cigarettes.
"Aren't ya gonna card me?" Fran randomly asked.
She knew she wasn't 18 and she knew she didn't even bring her driver's license or anything else besides money for that matter, she just liked to pretend she really was 18.
"Lady, if you're not over 18, then I'm the reincarnation of John Lennon." The cashier said sarcastically. "Not to mention you are drunk, so you have to be over 21."
"I've never been so insulted! But now that ya mention it, you do sorta have a resemblance to Johnnie. Too bad you guys broke up, I never thought I'd see a rock star work in a mini-mart, but you never know, Fran said, looking at him skeptically and laughing drunkenly. "Hey, get me a lighter while you're at it too."
"But you are very fine-looking even if you aren't 18. You should hold up on all the liquor though, I can barely understand you," the cashier said and smiled.
The man put the cigs and the lighter on the counter. Fran reached into her pocket of her leather jacket, handed him some bills and started to walk off.
"Miss, here's your change." He reminded her.
"Keep it, for your sweet talk." She gave a silly smile.
Fran stood in the middle of the store next to a rack of Hostess snacks. Go figure. The top of the Hostess tower said: Hey, where's the cream filling? Now that's the stuff—Hostess! She opened the crush-proof box and took out a cigarette. Fran lit it and then took the box and lighter and stuffed it in the pocket of her leather jacket. She raised the cigarette to her red lips.
"Hey, you can't light that up in here. You'll set off the smoke alarm!" alerts the cashier.
She waved him off and took a long drag of her cigarette before taking it out of her mouth to blow out the smoke.
"Much better." She breathed. For the time being, it took away all her stress and worries.
Outside a car screeched into a parking spot, the driver got out and slammed the door shut. Before anyone knew what hit them, a man rushed into the store brandishing a gun. He was wearing all dark clothing and had a ski mask over his head.
"NOBODY MOVE! EVERYBODY EXCEPT THE CASHIER, ON THE FLOOR!" the man yells.
Fran dropped to the ground and put out the cigarette on the floor and threw it.
"Well this just puts the icing on my cake! This just makes my day!" she mumbles.
"NOW NOW NOW!" bellowed the gunman when some of the people hesitated to get on the floor. "DON'T MOVE AND NOBODY GETS HURT!"
"YOU!" He pointed to the cashier. "PUT THE MONEY IN THIS BAG!" He gestured towards the sack he was carrying.
The burglar held the rifle to the head of the cashier as he nervously stuffed the robber's bag with money.
"HURRY UP!" He yelled in the ear of the cashier.
The cashier handed him the now-full bag. On his way out, he sees Fran on the floor and stares at her for a few seconds.
"You, you're coming with me." He told Fran and grabbed her arm forcefully, pulling her out the door.
Fran didn't put up a fight. Well, couldn't actually. She was pretty smashed and didn't really know what was going on by now. All she could think about was sleeping and when she hit the front passenger seat of the burglar's stolen 1988, black Chevy Camaro, that's exactly what she did. After closing Fran's door, the crook got into the driver side, started the car, backed out and started to drive at fast speed. When he got around the corner a police car was waiting, obviously being called while the robbery was taking place. The masked man floored the car and got on the highway. He scraped the guardrail a little until he could pass into the median. Since the traffic was a little heavy, he was able to get ahead of the cops by taking this escape route and then he'd pass back over later. Trying to follow the suspect in the pouring rain, the police car ended up spinning and hitting into a road barricade. By the time the man was on a back road, back up was following him. Two other law enforcement cars suddenly appeared in his rear-view mirror and were in hot pursuit. Because there were no street lights on this old, rural road and their windshields were splashed with heavy rainwater, it didn't take long before the officers lost sight of who they were after. The bandit went down a couple more back roads, then an old dirt road and vanished into the darkness of the late night/early morning with Fran Fine as a hostage.