…

Todd Cotton had owned and operated the Mobil gas station on the corner of 8th and Bell for nearly twenty years. It was his pride, joy and his entire life. Sure, it wasn't the safest job in the world. Meth tweakers and others would get it in their minds that robbing a gas station was easy money and Todd had been shot twice standing behind the counter. He wore the bullet scars as badges of honor and his shotgun now hung behind the register in full display of everyone. He hadn't been robbed in years.

He had a few employees so he could take at least one day off a week – so his wife didn't kill him – but Todd admitted that he was a bit of a control freak. The gas station was his baby and he trusted no one to truly look after it. That was the only explanation as to why Todd was the one standing behind the register at nine o'clock on a Tuesday night when three-year-old Luke Ridgeway from up the road stepped through the automatic doors. He was wearing a stained tee-shirt and gym shorts with his worn Velcro shoes. He was on his own, unsupervised, as he always was and Todd didn't even blink an eye at the little boy coming into his gas station at such an hour.

"Hi, Luke," Todd smiled at him.

"Hi," Luke gave him a small, shy smile in return and then turned to go up the first aisle.

Todd kept an eye on the boy as Luke took his time, roaming the aisles, and he picked up the phone, dialing the familiar number. It answered on the second ring.

"Sheriff's Office," a woman spoke.

"Yeah, hi. This is Todd Cotton down at the Mobile station. Could you let the man know that I have a pickup here tonight?" Todd looked up the aisle and saw Luke now standing in front of the coolers along the back wall.

The woman paused and then, "I'll let Sheriff Grimes know. He's en route."

"Thank you." Todd hung up and kept watching Luke. Outside at the pumps, a car had pulled up and it was a young girl in her twenties. He made sure her credit card went through – no cash was accepted at this hour and gas could only be paid at the pump – and once he saw that payment had been made, Todd looked back to the boy. He was coming up the last aisle. "Find everything?"

"Yes," Luke gave a nod.

He was too short and stood on the tips of his toes, Todd leaning forward to help him set the things down on the counter. Tonight, he was buying the smallest milk carton available and a small box of Saltine crackers. He took note of the fresh bruise encircling Luke's whole wrist. Todd began ringing up the purchases.

"Anything else?" He made sure. "Cigarettes?" He then grinned and Luke smiled, too.

Luke stood on his toes again and set a single quarter down on the counter. "I found it in the couch. Is it enough?"

"More than enough," Todd smiled as he hit the button on the register and the drawer popped open. Luke smiled, too, and Todd took the quarter, dropping it into the proper spot. He had a notebook open on the other side of the register – where Luke couldn't see – and he wrote the true total down so it could be kept track of along with other totals of purchases Luke had made.

Both turned their heads when the automatic doors swept open and Sheriff Grimes entered the gas station. He smiled and tipped his hat.

"Good evening, you two," he said and then his eyes went to Luke. "Are your mom and dad home tonight, Luke?" He asked. Luke nodded and didn't say anything. "Do they know you walked out of the house all by yourself and came here?" Again, Luke didn't speak and he shrugged.

Did his parents care? Todd thought to himself. That was the better question. Mark and Valerie Ridgeway were pieces of shit and that was actually the nicest thing Todd – or anyone – could call them. Smoking meth and tweaked out of their minds most of the time, they forgot Luke existed and the boy fended for himself; unless they needed something to hit and then they remembered him. Child Services had been called to the Ridgeway house by more than one person in town but for whatever reason, they never seemed to be able to do anything – or they didn't even try – and Luke wound up staying there.

But that was going to be changing soon. Not that Luke knew that.

"Let's get you home," Rick said, putting a light hand on the boy's back, his eyes instantly taking note of the bruise on his wrist. "You get everything you need?"

Luke nodded. "I was hungry." He held the milk and cracker box in both arms close to his chest; as if he was terrified that in any second, someone would try to take them away from him again.

"You do better than most adults," Rick smiled. "You were hungry, you put your shoes on and you did something about it. There are some who don't do that." He began guiding the boy back towards the doors, giving Todd a head nod as he did. "I know it's late but do you want a Happy Meal? My treat," the Sheriff asked as the two went back out the doors.

Luke's gasp was the only answer needed.

…

To save gas, Daryl and Beth usually drove to work together. He'd drop her off at the daycare center and then head to Dale's Auto Garage for the day and then pick Beth up again in the evening. But sometimes, they drove separately – Beth in the Subaru and Daryl on his motorcycle – for one reason or another. Today, they drove separately and from the front windows of the gas station, Todd could see the Dixon's silver Subaru with Beth behind the wheel stop at the stop sign of the four-way intersection. Daryl pulled up beside her and they spoke to one another through the rolled-down window before she smiled and nodded and drove on while Daryl turned and pulled into the gas station.

"Morning, Daryl," Todd greeted the man.

"Mornin'," Daryl came to the counter. "Sheriff called this mornin' and let me know Luke came in here last night."

Todd took the notebook from the other side of the register and looked to the total he had written down last night. "Small milk carton and small box of Saltines. Came to $2.50."

He then turned the notebook around and slid it across the counter for Daryl to look over. Daryl did – looking over every single purchase that Luke had come in here, buying things for whatever spare change he was able to find. Todd had made a note, too, of how much the boy had actually had – a quarter here, a nickel found on the ground there. Luke didn't know that he never had enough and he didn't know that Daryl or Beth would come in and pay the amount. Once he looked it all over, Daryl pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and slid a twenty-dollar bill towards Todd.

"Got one more home visit to get through but he should be comin' to our place sometime next week. This should cover everything until then," Daryl said.

Todd nodded and took both the notebook and the money back. "Thanks, Daryl. It's a real good thing what you and the Mrs are doing for that boy."

Daryl shrugged, slipping his wallet back into his jeans. "You seem to be helpin' him, too. And I wished there had been someone who'd done the same thing for me."

…

THANK YOU!