I do not own American Horror Story: Freakshow.
I doubt Ryan Murphy would even recognize it now.
Wherever You Are
Moving On
So Little Jimmy Anderson grew big and strong in the love of his doting, special, little family.
He learned to walk.
"Me walk. Me walk Ma-Da hou."
"Okay. Wait, what?"
"Bye, Da."
He learned to talk.
"Ma-Ba, more munins!"
"You want more muffins?"
"Yehs!"
He learned to run.
"Whhhhaaaaaa!"
"What happened, darling?"
"Whhhhaaaaaa!"
He learned to open and close doors.
"Ma-Ba! Ma-da! Granddaddy hans off!"
"Jimmy? What's wrong? What happened?"
"He opened the bedroom door while I was switching out my hooks."
He learned to be gentle and kind.
"Granddaddy hans hur?"
"No, not anymore, Little Man. Well, not much anyway."
And he, in general . . .
"No. No peas pease."
"You have to eat them, they're good for you."
"Yuck."
. . . learned about life.
Celebrities sang about being the world.
Whitney Houston became a household name.
Wrestlemania debuted at Madison Square Garden for the blood-thirsty masses.
New Coke was universally rejected.
Route 66 was decommissioned.
Back to the Future diverted moviegoers' attention from the continued bombings and hostage crises and murders and tornado and other disasters that just never seemed to stop.
And Ryan White was expelled from school for having AIDS and still wanting to learn.
"Oh my god, what is wrong with people?!"
"What? What are you talking about, Bette?"
"They're bullying that poor boy! We saw it on the news!"
"He's got AIDS," Dot picked up. "From a dirty blood transfusion. And they're kicking him out of school and treating him like garbage!"
"That just makes me so mad! He's a child!"
"They should be helping him, not hurting him! Why I've got half a mind to-"
And so it went.
The problem was, it wasn't going that well at Clark's Grocery.
Bigger chains like Sunflower and PiggyWiggly had big money behind them.
To afford bigger stores and newer products.
And undercut the prices of less wealthy, family-owned standalones.
And were and had been, slowly but surely, running Jimmy out of business for sometime.
He even heard on the grapevine about something called 'superstores' in which customers could buy underwear and eggs in the same stores.
Well hell, Mr. Clark, what am I supposed to do about that?
It wasn't the concern of him growing older.
Patrick, the most sincere, most loyal son-in-law ever known to man . . .
"Dropped off the deposit at the bank."
"Thanks, son."
"We didn't quite break even again."
""Yeah, I know. Customers just aren't coming in like they used to."
. . . would take over the business in a heartbeat if Jimmy wanted to retire.
Was practically running the store himself anyway.
The problem was . . .
"There's a new E.W. James opening up on Fern next week."
"Yeah. I heard about that."
. . . the end of the road was in sight.
"Going to stay open till ten, they say."
"Now who the hell needs a can of beans at ten at night?"
"I don't know, sir."
"Jimmy."
"Jimmy."
And no matter who was driving the car, they would eventually get to the end of it.
"Bette? Dot? I think we need to talk."
"We support you, darling."
"And we know this has been a long time coming."
"We're gonna be set up alright as far as money, I reckon."
"But what about you, darling?"
His smile was the dimpled one they'd loved for so very long.
"All that matters is my family. That's all. That's everything."
". . . bank loan?"
Yes, that was an option.
But-
"Honestly, Tom, I wouldn't know how to go about it. And I'd hate to trap my family into owin' up at this time of life."
The son of Dan Clark nodded his head thoughtfully.
"Well, you know, maybe you and I could work something out then."
Jimmy had expected as much.
And as well-meaning as the offer was-
"I appreciate that, Tom. I do. But, uh, I think it'd just delayin' the inevitable. Be all for nothin' but more heartache and debt in the end."
Sage shake of the salt and pepper head.
"Yeah. I think you're right, Jimmy. But I want you to feel clean about it. It may have been my dad's store but it was your baby. It really was. I want you to feel right about it."
. . . it wasn't what his heart and mind were telling him to do.
"I do, Tom. Thanks."
"You change your mind, you let me know."
"I will."
And then he called in his daughter and his son-in-law.
"I think it maybe time to sell Clark's."
Patrick looked offended.
"But . . . but . . . we can't. It our business, it's your business. The family business. That would be failing you."
Jimmy Darling Walker shook his head.
"The only thing that would be failing me is not taking care of this family."
The younger man didn't respond, only sat, wilted, forlorn, looking crushed beyond belief.
"Look, Patrick, you did everything right. Every single bit of the way. You gave it your all. We both did.
Jimmy blew out a breath of resigned air.
"Truth is, it all comes down to money and resources. And these big chains have more of both than we could ever hope to have."
No response.
"It's been coming down for a long time, since before you joined our family. I've been doing my best and I know you have too. It's just the way the world is."
Jimmy pause, considering his wood-topped stumps.
"And when the world moves on, you gotta move on with it or get left behind."
Shake of the head.
"It's the right thing to do for this family, Patrick. And family is all that matters in the end."
The World's Best Son-In-Law did not seem pleased.
"If you say so, sir."
"Jimmy."
"Jimmy."
"And I do."
"I'm sure gonna miss this place, Jimmy."
"I am too, Mrs. Engle."
"I've been shopping here for fifty years."
"I know, Mrs. Engle."
"I remember when you were just a nervous little stockboy."
"Yeah, me too."
"Dan Clark was sure proud of you."
Finally a statement that couldn't be shrugged of Jimmy's determinately casual shoulders.
A statement that ducked his aging head.
"Jimmy, look at me now."
Herculean effort.
"He'd still be proud of you. The way you've treated your customers, held your head up high. The way you've cared for that family of yours."
Tightening of the throat.
"You're a good man, Jimmy. And anyone with any sense knows it."
Welling of the eyes.
"Thanks, Mrs. Engle."
Aching of the chest.
"You relax now and enjoy retirement. Get some time with that grandboy."
Watery smile.
"I will. Thank you."
Nose threatening to drip.
"Goodbye, Jimmy. I'll see you around town."
And Jimmy with his hooks.
"I look forward to it, Mrs. Engle."
It went quietly.
That last day at Clark's.
When he closed up, he sent the stockboy and Patrick . . .
"Tell the girls I'll be a bit, wouldja?"
"Okay. Are you alright?"
"Yeah, Patrick. I will be. Thanks."
Then he locked it up.
Turned off the lights.
And wandered his store.
This is where I knocked over a can of green beans on my first day.
Aisle by aisle.
Had to fire Herman for stealing baked beans here. Then Bette and Dot made me send him a case at home to make sure he didn't go hungry while he job-searched.
The deli.
That boy wheezing on the floor after he'd tried to jack the slicer. Damn foolish kid.
The bench of Shame and Resurrection.
How many vets came through here? How many sandwiches?
The stockroom.
The day Billy kept sneezing himself silly after breaking that glass of cinnamon.
The cash register.
I was shot right here. He looked into my eyes and I looked right into his. And then he shot me.
Everywhere.
Everything.
All the history there.
Right in the middle of the boxed potatoes and creamed corn.
I guess . . . I guess . . .
I guess it's over.
Jimmy Darling Walker stood a minute longer, still and quiet in the dust motes and old wood flooring.
And then, because there was nothing left for him to do at that moment, Jimmy Darling Walker let himself out.
And walked home.
"Darling? Are you alright?"
The unrelenting heat of the Florida climate that August evening in 1985 was heavy and thick.
And still their heavy-hearted husband remained without.
First Little Jimmy's hands. Now this.
It's been a lot for him.
It's been a lot for all of us, I think.
Yes.
"Jimmy?"
They could barely hear his response.
"Have you seen the stars tonight?"
What?
"They're so bright."
And they supposed . . .
"Yes, they are."
. . . he was on his way . . .
"Really something, huh?"
. . . to being alright.
"Yes, it sure is, darling."
So Jimmy was okay.
And Bette and Dot were okay.
And Annabel and Patrick and The Baby and Scruffy Sam the Sublime were okay.
"Do you think your dad is mad at me for the store closing? I felt like I should have done more."
"Did he act like he was mad at you?"
"No. He said it was okay."
"Then it's okay. Daddy doesn't screw around and pretend."
"Well, okay. If you're sure."
"I am, baby."
"Okay."
At least for the most part.
Unfortunately, this is all pretty realistic for the time.
And I know Jimmy, like me, can still close his eyes and still smell that old store smell. Even if he is fictional. ;)
Thanks to midnightrebellion86 and brigid1318 for reviewing before.
See you all again tomorrow for another chapter before my surgery.
After that, it might be a few days; I'm not too sure what I write like on painkillers, ha.