Chapter 19
Adam stared into the fryer as the oil glistened and dripped from the hot chicken tenders hanging in the basket. He watched, mesmerized by the golden nuggets as they taunted his decision.
"Sure you don't want one, buddy?" Rocky asked, turning to Adam at the deli counter.
Adam could hear the slight jest in his voice before turning to meet the wide grin across his face. "I'm sure. I'll stick with the turkey."
Rocky frowned, "You're just gonna ask for a bite later."
A tall, rather thin boy stood hovering behind the counter. From behind his dark frames, he observed with piecing green eyes as the two made their decisions on the array of sandwich toppings in front of him. "You know, I could make the chicken sub into a wrap for you," he said, pointing to the fryer basket filled with chicken tenders.
Adam furrowed his brow at this suggestion, "What's a wrap?"
"It's like a burrito…but it's not," Rocky explained.
"And you can pick from any of the tortilla flavors. It's less bread than the sandwich," the teenager explained.
Adam looked back up to the hanging menu above the counter, "Could I get the turkey in a wrap?"
"Sure. You didn't mention which flavor of turkey you wanted," the teen pointed to a smaller menu listing various meats and available flavors.
Adam glanced over the menu, "I guess the pepper turkey sounds good—with lettuce and tomato on mine. And the spinach wrap."
"Good choice! I'll need to slice it fresh for you, though. We usually don't keep that one behind the counter long," he said, looking in one of the sealed, refrigerated drawers behind the counter.
As he placed a flat sheet of sandwich wrap on the counter, another teenage boy with tanned skin, eyes the color of coffee and dark, thick waves appeared as the large door to the walk-in cooler slid backwards. "Hey Rob, you need any help?" the teen asked as he stepped up to the counter.
Rob tilted his head to the side, directing his green eyes to the meat counter, "Hey, Chris. I thought you went to lunch. I could use a hand with some meat slicing. Can you get a pepper turkey wrap cut thin?"
"Sure thing," the young, dark-haired teen, now known as Chris, glided over to the meat counter, disappearing behind the glass encasement filled with various roasts and cured meats.
"Anything else on yours?" Rob asked as he picked out four of the golden and warm chicken tenders from the fryer with tongs.
Rocky looked the available toppings over, "I guess lettuce and tomato for mine, as well. Yeah, add banana peppers and onions, and a little mayo."
Rob finished the sub sandwich as he chopped the four tenders into smaller pieces, attempting to neatly arrange them across the slices of tomato and lettuce. He pressed it together, wrapped it into the sandwich paper, and cut the sandwich into two equal halves.
"Did you want the combo?" Rob asked, his hand balanced across a keypad at the end of the counter.
Rocky looked back up to the menu, "Chips and a drink, right?"
Rob nodded.
"Definitely," Rocky said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
Adam glanced over to Rocky, "Rocky, there's no way you can eat that entire sandwich by yourself."
"Having second thoughts, buddy?" Rocky teased, placing the sandwich into the basket and picking up one of the cans of soda from the refrigerated display cooler.
Before Adam could answer, Chris appeared with the sliced meat for his sandwich, handing it off to Rob.
"Any condiments?" Rob asked, opening a package of tortillas.
Adam looked curiously at the package, "Are they supposed to be green like that?"
Rob looked down at the green tortillas. They were speckled with black and red flakes. "This is the spinach wrap," he said, holding the package up for Adam to read. "The green is due to the ground spinach and it contains black pepper and dried tomato pieces. It's actually pretty good."
Rocky leaned in to inspect the package, noting the date. "Dude, they're fine. I've had these before. They're sometimes the only vegetable I eat on these things."
Rob's face flashed a hint of weariness as he held the package, awaiting Adam's decision. "We have others if you want to change your mind."
Adam looked the young teen over, noting the weariness in his eyes and face. "No, it's fine. I'm sure I'll love it. You can add a little mustard to mine."
Rob seemed to relax as he finished up the wrap with the turkey, tomato slices, and lettuce. Adam carefully inspected the technique as he folded the wrap around the toppings into a neatly packed, burrito-like sandwich. Just as he had with Rocky's chicken sandwich, he gathered the sandwich paper around the wrap, tightened it to fit the shape of the wrap, then cut through the sandwich to create two equal halves.
After deciding on a combo as well, Adam grabbed a soda and a bag of chips. As he and Rocky walked back up towards the registers, Rocky stopped, looking down at the basket.
"Wait," he said, looking at his own rather large sandwich and glancing over the printed price ticket, "I forgot chips for my combo."
Rocky turned back, heading towards the deli. Adam stood near the end of the drink aisle, pondering over a display of Cheez-It boxes. Reaching for a box of white cheddar flavored crackers, he was startled to see Rocky return empty-handed.
"Where are your chips?" Adam asked, handing Rocky the basket.
Rocky shrugged, then looked back in the direction of the deli, "I think I just saw myself."
"Um, what?" Adam asked, unable to articulate any further questions.
"I think I just saw…I don't know how to explain it. I went back to get a bag of chips at the sandwich counter and…I don't…dude, it looked like us at the counter."
Adam stepped backwards, into the aisle, leaning on the shelf. "That doesn't make any sense. Maybe it was just two guys that resemble us. Did you look at their faces?"
"Not really, but look at this," Rocky said, turning around and pointing to the back pockets on his jeans.
"I'm not looking at your butt, Rock," Adam said.
"No man, I could see them from behind and I know my own butt, Adam. These jeans have a tear on the right pocket. See," he said, pulling at the torn hem from the back of his pockets. "You can see the red and blue stripes on my boxers through the tear."
"And now I can't unsee them," Adam said, still looking Rocky in the face.
Rocky sighed heavily, "Alright, don't believe me. But when your evil clone comes after you, I tried to help."
Adam shook his head and turned to continue back down the drink aisle and to the registers when he froze, his foot still mid fall.
"I'm sorry I doubted you," he said, his voice barley audible above the music playing overhead.
Rocky stepped into the aisle, turning to face Adam, "I didn't hear you, man."
Instead of repeating himself, Adam pointed Rocky's gaze towards the end of the aisle. Standing in the same spot as they were only a few minutes prior, there were two guys dressed in the same clothes and possessing the same faces as they.
"Let's get out of here," Rocky said, backing up into the shelf as they turned to make their way to the front end.
They rounded the corner, registers in sight and numbers visible. Each register was lit by a small light that served as both the number of the register and the identification of an available cashier. Spotting a shorter line at register number six, Adam led them to the line. Rocky, however, planted his feet firm against the shiny tile floor as they peered at the line's occupants.
"No way! Look," he said, pointing Adam to another set of their clones, who were oblivious to their existence.
Adam peered ahead, noting the two as they seemed to be paying for the very items he and Rocky had in their basket.
"Rocky, this is too weird. What's going on here?"
"I don't know, but I think we'd better get out of here before they see us," he said, pulling Adam over to register three.
They dropped the basket on the conveyor belt and unloaded their items. Rocky grabbed a bag of chips hanging next to a copy of The National Inquirer before turning back to Adam, "Look, they're the same chips. I'm still getting that combo."
The small, petite young woman behind the register pressed a button, moving the items closer to her. As she began to scan them across, she looked up to Rocky, flashing a bright smile against crimson lips. "How's it going today? Find everything you were looking for?" she asked.
Rocky raised an eyebrow, looking into the glittering hazel eyes nestled within bronze-toned eyelids. "Oh, uh, yeah."
Adam, noticing his friend's sudden loss of attention span, lightly nudged his arm.
Rocky cleared his throat, realizing he was staring at the young woman's face longer than fitting without speaking. "I…grabbed those chips for my combo here at the register."
She looked down at the bag of chips, realizing she had already scanned them across the laser. "Oh, shoot. I'll have to get an override and remove them. Hold on," she signaled towards the large front desk on the wall near the entrance at a taller, older woman with silver streaks set in dark, shiny hair that fell like a curtain across her back. The woman came over, clanging keys and a plastic card in her hand.
"I need an override. He has a combo, but I scanned the chips already," the young woman said, sheepishly.
The older, silver-streaked woman peered down over her glasses, very much used to the occurrence. "It shouldn't be a problem, but these new systems need a code first," she said, scanning the card through the black slot hanging on the side of the monitor. She slightly lifted the keypad to punch in a few numbers with audible 'beeps' from the machine.
Looking to the monitor, she frowned, "Looks like this one is frozen again. Here, I can pull the transaction from another register while this one resets. I think six is open—I'll move you to that one for now. Are you guys paying with cash?"
Adam and Rocky looked to each other and then over to register six. Over the tops of the gum and candy displays, they could see the light to register six. It was off and the line was empty…with no cashier visible behind the counter.
"Did you say…six?" Adam said, looking back to the two women.
The younger woman raised her thick, neatly arched dark brows at his question, "Yeah, this happens sometimes. We just switched to a new system and um, well, it's like a digital thing."
The older woman leaned down to press a button on the side of the monitor before looking up and pointing over to register six, "I do apologize for the inconvenience. It is a new P.O.S. system and we have a few bugs to work out. New millennium and all, right?"
Adam and Rocky gathered their items as they followed the two women to register six. After typing in a few numbers on the keypad, the register came alive with a 'hum' and the older woman typed a few more numbers from a paper receipt she had printed on the previous register. "Here you are. And I have already removed the chips. Just scan the sandwich tickets and the price for the chips and drinks are included," she looked to Rocky and Adam before adding "thank you for your patience."
The younger woman finished scanning the rest of their items, placing them in a small plastic bag. "Did you have anything else to add?" she asked.
Rocky grabbed a pack of chewable mints and handed them over to the young woman. "I added a few onions to mine," he said, noticing the look from Adam.
"No comment and no protest," Adam smirked.
"Thank you guys and have a great day," the young woman handed over their receipt as they finalized the transaction.
Adam picked up the bag from the end of the register, glancing up the front end's speedway one more time for the pay phones. "Hey, do you know what happened to the pay phones that were outside?"
The young woman's brow furrowed as she seemed to be troubled by his question, "Pay phones? I don't think we have had any out there for a few years now. We have a courtesy phone up at the front desk if you need it, but most folks just carry a cell phone now."
Adam glanced over the front end once more, concern spreading across his face. "No, it's fine. We'll try somewhere else."
Rocky narrowed his eyes, puzzled at Adam's decision, "But we still need to call Tommy—"
"Thanks for all your help," Adam abruptly declared to the young woman as he led Rocky to the exit.
"Dude, she offered us a phone. What's up?" Rocky asked once they cleared the store's exit.
Adam looked around the storefront, apprehensive and nervously examining each detail. "Rocky, something really strange is going on and I think it just got weirder. Those phones were here last week. I'm telling you…I was here with Tommy and saw them."
Rocky sighed, palming his face with his hand, "Beyond the clones of ourselves, the phones may just be a bad memory. You're right, though. Something is way off here. It feels like last night when I heard—"
Rocky stopped as if he had just remembered a very important fact. He then began quickly walking towards the car, Adam following.
"What is it?" Adam said, sitting in the driver's seat, as Rocky opened the door to the passenger side and began rummaging frantically through the glove compartment.
Finally reaching the lost and forgotten item, he held it up in the air as a lost treasure found on the hunt. "I left it in the car last night! It should still have a charge!" he pressed the power button on the front side of the black cell phone and extended the antenna.
"Let's just hope Tommy has his phone with him, too. Better yet, try Billy. I know he has his phone somewhere on his body," Adam said as they both leaned over the phone's black and white screen.
"I don't have Billy's new number in this," Rocky looked to Adam, somewhat disappointed.
"As much as Tommy and I have been calling him lately for homework help, I have it memorized," Adam reached for the phone and dialed the numbers.
As they waited for an answer on the other end, Rocky began to open his sandwich. Adam wasn't sure but didn't think the smell that began to drift to his nose was from the hot chicken tenders they saw in the fryer earlier.
As Rocky opened the sub, exposing the sandwich further, Billy answered the phone on the other end.
"Hey, Billy," Adam said, glancing back over to the store's entrance, "Rocky and I are, well, we're kind of lost at the Ralph's in Circle Area."
"Tell him about the phones," Rocky said, opening the bag of chips.
"Yeah…cool, we're in the parking lot—Rocky don't eat that!" Adam's expression was filled with horror as he looked down at the sandwich exposed in Rocky's lap.
Rocky glanced down at the sandwich, now realizing it was more a blend of what appeared to be molded bread and rotten, putrid meat, oozing with a mash of once crisp toppings. He gagged and quickly re-wrapped the sandwich. "What the heck!"
"Billy, you guys gotta get over here quick…great, see you then!" Adam pressed a button, ending the call. He placed the phone in the cup holder and reached into the bag to get his own sandwich. "I bet they're both like this."
"But how is this possible? We watched them make these!" Rocky's anger tinged with disappointment.
"I think it has something to do with everything else going on," Adam said, carefully unwrapping the paper. As he unfolded the corners, he could see the bright green spinach tortilla had been replaced with a fuzzy coating of mold filled with slime-covered, rotten meat and wilted vegetables. "Ugh," he gagged, quickly wrapping the paper back over the sandwich.
"Adam, what is going on here? Even the chips are stale," Rocky said, holding up the nearly full bag.
"Try your soda," Adam said, taking both cans from the bag and handing one to Rocky.
Rocky pushed it away, "No way, man. You first. I'm not getting another surprise like that!"
Adam opened the can with an anticlimactic click. "It's flat. I guess we're lucky soda doesn't spoil."
"But who wants flat soda?" Rocky said, opening his own can with the same bubbleless click.
"At least you can drink the soda without getting sick later," Adam said, taking a sip and peering at the bag of chips. "Hey, look at the date on these chips."
Rocky took the bag and inspected the date printed just under the 'Best by' notation. "These chips are dated for six months from now. Why would they be stale?"
"Were they opened already? There may have been a hole in the bag we missed," Adam said, inspecting the seams of his own bag.
"No, the bag would have been flatter. It was puffy—just like it was full of air. That doesn't explain these sandwiches, anyway."
Adam leaned back into the seat and scanned the entrance of the store once more before closing his eyes. "Let's hope Billy has a better explanation than we do. This isn't helping my headache."