In the Lone and Level Sands by David Lovato Read Free Book Online

Ferrington
     
    Jordan stood in front of his register
ringing up various purchases. The night had gone mostly steady, but
the store was busy. Jordan had a moment to rest, and saw Evelyn
Forthland, the second assistant manager, move around the teenaged
checker on register nine to take control of an order containing
alcohol.
    An elderly woman approached Jordan’s lane.
She parked her cart a few feet in and buried her head in her purse.
Other customers tried to get in line behind her. Some waited a few
seconds before giving up and trying quicker routes. The old woman
withdrew a handful of coupons and fumbled with them for a while.
Finally, she pulled three ragged slips of paper out of the bunch,
stuffed the others back into her purse, and looked up.
    “Sir? Are you open?”
    “Yes, ma’am,” Jordan said. The woman pushed
her cart to Jordan’s register. Slowly, she began lifting items out
one at a time. Jordan ran each item over the scanner, and finally
the cart was empty except for a bag of dog food at the bottom.
    “Do you have a gun for this?” the old woman
asked. “I’m afraid I can’t lift—” A brief fit of coughs cut her
off. She used a dirty-white handkerchief to stifle them. “I’m sorry
about that.”
    Jordan leaned over the counter, aimed the
scan gun at the bag of dog food, and pulled the trigger. “Thank
you,” the old woman said, her voice barely audible over a recorded
announcement, courtesy of John Kensington. He was advertising a
sale in the Ferrington bakery department.
    “No problem.” Jordan glanced at the screen,
then totaled the order. “It’ll be $14.97, please.” The woman fished
around in her purse again, this time for her checkbook, and
eventually produced it.
    After the old woman finished writing her
check, she handed it to Jordan. When it was done processing, he
handed her the receipt. “There you go, ma’am,” Jordan said. “Have a
good day.” The old woman nodded and shoved the receipt into her
black hole of a purse. She turned her cart and headed for the
exit.
    It was nearing seven when Jordan’s line
finally began to dwindle. Jordan grinned as a checker at another
register pantomimed blowing his brains out with a gun crafted from
his own hand. With his other hand he made the splatter effect.
    Know what you mean! Jordan
mouthed.
    Evelyn’s voice popped up behind him.
“Jordan.” He turned around as she was approaching.
    “Yeah?”
    “Are you ready for your break?” Evelyn
brushed a wisp of reddish-brown hair out of her eyes.
    “Sure, why not?” Jordan smiled, signed off
the register, and headed toward the food court.
    Once he paid for his pizza and drink, Jordan
headed upstairs and sat at the middle of three round tables under
the bright lights of the break room. They were just as bright as
those on the main floor of the Ferrington, but didn’t bother him as
much. There was something special about the break room; nothing
seemed to upset Jordan within it.
    Jordan’s phone vibrated, and the polyphonic
version of “Below” by Kanatran blasted from its speaker. Jordan
smiled when he realized it was Ashley. He answered the phone.
    “Hey, Ash. What’s up?”
    “Not much. I figured you’d be on break about
now. It’s cute that you have your little break schedule.” She
laughed. Jordan followed. “So, how’s work?”
    “A pain. Hey, when are you coming up to the
Fuckington?”
    “Soon. Mom’s not home from work yet, and
since Dad’s still in St. Louis, I can’t get around. I’ll be up
there before nine, for sure. Don’t worry, Jordan.”
    “Then I’ll make sure to be at my post,”
Jordan said.
    “Hey, Jordan. I have to get off here. Mom’s
calling. Maybe she’s close. We’ll talk soon.”
    She giggled a little, the giggle that Jordan
only heard when she was talking to him .
    “Later, Ash.”
    He pressed “End”, set the phone down, and
picked up his second slice of pizza.
    While the break room was a place of
sanctuary, it was also a realm in