Chapter 36: A Little Rain and Everyone Freaks

Tim and his father, Raymond, knew they were in for a different shopping experience than usual with the number of cars circling and on the prowl for parking spots nearest to the grocery megastore entrance. The highly-coveted spots were few and far between. So, after making a couple of rounds themselves, the son and father decided to just park and worry about drying themselves once they got home.

“Wet is gonna happen, Dad -- might as well just get it over with,” Tim told his dad.

“Yeah. You’re right. Might as well just get in there and ready to fight for everything.” His father was joking about having to fight in the store, but he was about to see a different reality.

The fun started as soon as they jogged in from their parking spot, just outside of Timbuktu, to the store entrance where several people were waiting for carts to be brought back. The problem was, people were using the carts then, instead of returning them to the storefront, left them in between the rows of parking spaces. Tim saw the line of people waiting for carts and realized it would take longer to wait under the roof than to just grab a cart. “I’ll get us a cart, Dad.”

Raymond nodded his approval. “Hey, grab a few extra!” His father gestured toward the crowd of former parking space ghouls. There were no shopping cart ghouls collecting carts, so Tim made his way back with a good fifteen carts in a row. When he was down to the last cart, one couple was waiting for a cart. Tim just smiled and gave up the cart to the old couple who quietly waded through the flood of people, away from the growing torrent of rain that turned from the irritating hard drizzle into a hard rain seemingly coming from all sides.

Tim got a couple more carts and was able to leave them near the door for whoever needed one. The lady manager at the door thanked Tim for the help. “We have another person just now coming on duty because the regular guy quit when he saw the rain and the amounts of carts stacking up in the parking lot. I can’t really blame him, but it set us up for a lot of people to be upset.”

“Oh, no problem. I was already wet. A little more water won’t hurt,” Tim told the manager.

“When you guys are finished and if I’m still here at the door, leave your purchases here, get your car, and bring it up to the door. That way, I can watch your stuff, and it won’t get wet. It’s the least I can do. I should be here for a while,” the lady manager said.

“Thanks! We’ll probably take you up on that offer. Come on, Tim. Let’s get the list and get home, so we don’t have to swim there,” Raymond said.

The tension in the store was palpable and could be cut with a dull knife. You could almost feel that, if one cart accidentally bumped into another, a riot could erupt, taking out the entire store.

The two were well on their way through the brief list supplied by Tim’s mom when, while walking by the bakery section, a loud clang of metal baking sheets sounded as one after another cascaded onto the floor. Someone had lost control of a rolling cart full of freshly baked bread that had just been bagged and was ready for the display cases. It was an area of the store Tim enjoyed slowing down whenever he walked by. The smells of freshly baked goods were always something to enjoy. With his newly-enhanced olfactory senses, the scent was heavenly.

The string of profanity in both English and Spanish that followed, soon after the loud crash of bread pans hitting the linoleum, was what got a lot of attention. The older Hispanic lady in the white hairnet quickly put both hands to her mouth and looked like she was about to cry when her manager came out from behind the stoves.

He looked out over the carnage of up to fifty freshly baked loaves of bread strewn across the floor, put his arm around the lady who was looking up to her supervisor, and calmly said, loud enough for people in the area to hear, “You see, Yolanda, that’s why we can’t have nice things.” He then smiled at her and gave her a reassuring hug. She hugged him back and went after the bread, but the manager out-did himself again. “Well, everybody, we have a quick sale on these loaves of bread. If you want some of these that have fallen and come out of the bread sleeve, please bring them to me, and I will knock them off to half price.”

Tim noticed, after the laughter from the well-timed joke, that not only did the tensions ease up considerably, but no one took advantage of the sale. They just picked up bread and paid full price for each one.

Raymond and Tim could not get everything on their list as most of the people at the store were after the same kinds of items but, using a little imagination, they were able to find workarounds for several of the items – mainly buying a few more bags of beans rather than buying canned ones which were already gone. Basically, things now required more preparation time for the cook rather than the ease of heating up what comes in the can.

Tim was able to see several items up on the highest shelves in several aisles that most people could not see. When he saw something both he and others wanted, if he could share, he did. If not, he just made a mark on the list and came back later when no one was watching.

“Alright, big man, that’s about it. Let’s pay for this stuff and get outta harm’s way and back home,” Tim’s father suggested with Tim acknowledging by steering the cart toward the front exits.

After they paid and made their way to the front door, the lights in the store and those of the neighboring businesses began to flicker. In a few moments, the light gave out but quickly came back on. All of the computers immediately shut down and were in the process of rebooting when one person decided it was an opportunity to make out of the store without paying.

Tim heard the rumble of a shopping cart being pushed at a high rate of speed which was rather unique since it was rare to get a cart with all four wheels working properly. That cart had one frozen wheel, and it would sporadically scrape the floor as it was forced into movement.

Tim pushed his cart toward the door to block the speeding cart. The collision was dramatic, but no one was hurt.

“Sir, the cash registers reboot rather quickly,” the front door manager explained. Then she pointed to the security cameras over the door focusing on the customers as they entered and left the store. “Those are on a different electric circuit with their own generator backup.”

At least the man did not try to run away. He shot mean looks at Tim who just stood up to his full height and pumped up his arms and upper body muscles. The wet t-shirt on a well-defined body does not only work for women. Seeing the bulging muscles and highly-visible veins erupting out from under and around the muscles quickly forced the man to demure to the rather large young man.

The manager stayed by the door and waited for the security guards to escort the would-be burglar into the deep recesses of the management offices.

The manager kept her word and stood by the cart but, then again, so did Tim. His father brought the Grand Cherokee right up to the front door. Tim picked up every bag, interlocked in his fingers, and made for the car. He opened the rear door, quickly deposited their purchases, and closed the rear door. He waved goodbye to the manager and a couple of other women standing by the door also waved back. Tim thought this kind of weird but did not think any more of it.

His father, on the other hand, was smiling brightly on this dreary evening. “Holy shit, Tim! I do believe you had yourself a choice of cougars at the door there.” Tim just gave him back a confused looked. “That ‘Hulking up’ thing you did to shut down that wannabe thief got a bunch of the women in that place wishing you would take them home.” Tim started turning red from embarrassment. “But, then again, now that I think about it ... they weren’t really that good lookin’, were they?” Tim just smiled and felt the embarrassment drain from his face.

There was no way for either of the Murphy men to avoid the rain, so they just went about the business of grabbing the bags in the back of the car and bringing them inside as quickly as possible. At least Juanita had towels waiting for each of them. “Try not to get too much water in the house, please.” It came kind of sing/song from the kitchen. She was putting away the things they had just brought home. “What is all of this, Raymond?”

“The store was a madhouse. Everyone was looking for the same stuff, and we grabbed what we could. I made some selections depending on what was available.”

“Oh, alright. I guess that is just a little more work for me. I’ll heat up dinner for you, Tim.”

“Thanks, Mom.” His answer was a little stifled as he used an extra towel to dry his hair. On the way to his room, he stopped at the doorway to the kitchen and thanked her again for heating up his dinner. A few minutes later, Tim had changed into warmer clothes and was debating whether or not he should take a shower before bed or just go to bed as-is. He tabled the thought when his mom yelled the food was ready. He grabbed it and went back to his bedroom to watch TV. The news on several local channels had preempted regular programming to talk about the increasingly poor weather conditions.

“Right now, the radar shows this storm is definitely headed this way, right up from the Mexican coast and up through Corpus Christi. The San Antonio area is catching the outer feeder bands of the storm. That is where we are lucky. We are going to get rain – a lot more rain – but at least we are not expecting to see the heavy winds, hail and increased lightning. Our area will be looking at at least two or maybe even three more days of wave after wave of rain. Back to you, Delaine.”

“We are going to the scene of what almost turned into a riot at a local grocery store. Our own Justin Hooper is live from the scene. Justin, can you tell us what happened?”

“Sure thing, Delaine. With the news of the storms headed our way, many people decided at the last minute to try and stock up on essentials for the next few days just in case of an emergency. At this store, the irritable crowds were going about their way when the lights went out momentarily and forced the cash registers to reboot – a minor inconvenience – but one person decided to try making a run for the door with a full cart of supplies without paying. Apparently, another store customer used their own cart to stop the cart of the would-be thief dead in his tracks. The store security turned the man over to police, and they are going to be pressing charges which, if found guilty, would probably result in a fine. The management wanted to thank their customer for stopping a would-be robber. I’m Justin Hooper. Back to you, Delaine.”

Tim swore he could hear the inhale his mother made before she called him to the living room. “Do you wanna tell me about what happened while you and your father were at the store?”

“Not really much to tell. We finished paying and were going to the door to leave. The lights turned off but turned right back on. The cash registers all dinged and went black, then started rebooting. Some guy thought maybe he could get away with a cart full of stuff without paying. I shoved our cart in front of him, by the door, and it took the hit from the guy’s cart. Store security took the dude in the back and we came home.” Tim explained.

Then Tim slapped himself lightly on the head. “I didn’t even take a look at what was in his cart. Maybe he got some of the stuff we were looking for before we could. I might have been able to buy his stuff too. He wasn’t gonna be able to take it to the jail.” Carmen, who was sitting on the floor in front of the TV, started laughing, and that was quickly followed by a easily audible snickering from the hallway in front of his parents’ bedroom. It sounded a lot like Raymond. The rolling of eyes from his mother told him the interrogation was done. He pivoted on his left foot and high-fived his father on his way back to his room.

The hum of the air conditioning, in concert with the numbing repetition of the falling rain outside, fomented the setting for a wonderful night of sleeping, and sleeping Tim did do. The alarm on his watch rang at five in the morning, and Tim rolled out from under his bed sheets and onto the floor. He did his first workout of the day, right then and there. He had read in many interviews about college and pro football great Herschel Walker.

Herschel grew up in Augusta, Georgia, as one of seven children of a very blue-collar family. He had a strange workout regimen he started developing in high school. Rather than lifting weights or using equipment his family and school could not afford, he began performing between 750 to 1,500 push-ups per day and 2,000 sit-ups every morning.

It sounded like a good idea and something he could do each morning to begin each day and get his new body working to peak efficiency as quickly as possible. It also gave him an excellent excuse for a quick shower first thing in the morning, then it was off to school.

He turned on his TV, and the local news was going over a list of school closures while he was finishing his daily sit-ups. They announced that his school and his sister’s school were closed for the day. He heard his sister in the kitchen give a hearty cheer. No doubt she was watching the same news channel he was while eating breakfast in the kitchen.

Well, what was he going to do now? No school. No football practices. He actually found himself a little sad to be missing them. He never thought he’d ever felt like that in his life. He grabbed a towel he had kept from the night before, to clean off the sheen of sweat he had worked up in his morning calisthenics.

“Well, I guess you heard the good news, huh, little lady?”

“No school today. No school today. No-no-no-no schoooool todaaaaaay.” Carmen did a funny little happy dance in her chair while eating cereal for breakfast. Juanita was not thrilled but smiled at her daughter’s exuberance.

Juanita put a hand on Tim’s shoulder to get his attention. “Your father got a call in the middle of the night. They were calling in everybody to man the hospital. Apparently, the hospitals along the coast and inland between us were shipping out the more serious cases to us as well as Austin.”

“Is he going out to the coast or staying here to supervise?”

“Well, you know your father, he’ll think he needs to be in the thick of the action to make sure everything is done right.” She paused and looked up at her son. He turned off the eggs he was cooking for his own breakfast. “I asked him to stay in town and let the others go out. He has gone out before on these emergencies like to Florida or even back home to Puerto Rico, but something about this storm has me on edge.”

“Did you tell him that? You know we all listen when you have one of your ‘on the edge’ feelings.”

“Yes, I told him. He said he would not volunteer for any missions but, if ordered, he would need to go.”

“Yeah. That sounds like about the best he can truly do.” He pulled his mother in closer and gave her a reaffirming hug and a kiss on the forehead. “Don’t worry. These storms will come, dump buckets of rain, and maybe knock down a few older trees, then they’ll go on their merry way.”

She returned the reassuring hug with one of her own around his waist, but then she got a whiff of her sons’ secret. He had not yet showered after going through some of his daily workout. The boy was ripe.

“Why didn’t you go take a shower before you started cooking breakfast? Now we have to smell you, and your orbit of funk is all over everything.” She smiled and swatted him on his behind.

“You see, Carmen, it’s just not fair.”

Hearing her name in the conversation pulled her attention from the cartoon on the TV. “How in the world do you make your eggs so fluffy?”

“Grandma Carmen taught me how when we were there. I can also make a pretty darn good omelet if I do say so myself.”

“Awww. Tim, are you making omelets?”

“No. Why? Did you want one?”

“Yeah, but I already got cereal, and I won’t be able to eat an omelet after a bowl of cereal.” Her voice wallowed into the pit of despair which was also painted onto her face.

“Well, maybe we can have a second breakfast for lunch, and I’ll cook one for you then. Whadda ya think of that?”

“Perfect. Your omelets really are good, Tim.”

“Hey, you are supposed to be on my side there, little girl. What about my omelets?”

The panic rushed across Carmen’s face. “Oh. Um. No, Mom. Yours are good, too, but Tim’s are all light and fluffy and always look like they’re cooked perfect.”

Mother stared down daughter across the kitchen counter. Juanita leaned closer to her daughter. “Yeah, his are pretty good aren’t they. Maybe we can get him to cook for us.”

“Nah. All he can cook are eggs and omelets. I don’t think he can even make toast.”

Tim plated his simple scrambled eggs and wolfed them down quickly, then put his plate in the dishwasher. He stuck his tongue out at both his mother and his sister and went down the hall to get in the shower. The two ladies in the kitchen were laughing, and Tim thought it might be one of the best sounds he had ever heard.

There sure was a lot of hurry up and wait happening in almost every inch of the San Antonio Medical Center. The call for all personnel to come in for work made it sound like there were lines of patients circling the parking lots trying to get some shelter from the storm. Raymond checked the triage display board and saw they were going to be receiving several patients from Corpus Christi. None were serious, but all were transportable. The Corpus hospitals were going to stay open and keep an eye on their more extreme patients. If push came to shove, they had standing orders to call a bug-out and evacuate every patient further inland, away from the coast and, hopefully, away from the storm.

“Well, at least this gives me a chance to catch up on the paperwork,” Raymond said to no one before checking on everyone’s situation. He soon realized he was not needed, so he headed to his office.

“Damn, I didn’t think they would call you in as well there, Sarge,” exclaimed Dr. Anderson, the same doctor that Raymond called in to look over Tim when they brought him in and admitted him with the tapeworm. “I’ve seen people I haven’t seen in months walking the halls today, looking for something to do.” Both men politely laughed.

“Yeah, they call, and I come a’runnin’. What are you doing here, sir?”

“I told you about all that ‘sir’ stuff with me, Murphy, but I was caught up in the call, too.” He moved into the office and made himself comfortable on Raymond’s office sofa. When his feet were properly elevated, Dr. Anderson continued, “Hey, how is your son doing? Any problems after the tapeworm?”

“No problems. Well, I guess different kinds of problems.”

“Whatta ya mean by different problems?” inquired the older doctor. He still had a thick head of hair though he now had a salt-and-pepper palette.

“Well, do you follow local high school football?”

“Not really. My boys all played a few years back when I was stationed in California, and they already went on to college. Of course, I see the scores on the news, especially Friday nights during the season. The local news turns half of the broadcast over to high school football,” Dr. Anderson related.

“Well, Tim joined freshman football at Roosevelt, and he has a knack for it. He took to it like a duck to water. Remember when he was here, and he was fighting the excess energy? He was practically bouncing off the walls. When we got home, he asked for weights and a boxing bag to put in the backyard for him to use for working out. In a couple of months, he had lost about sixty to seventy pounds but put about thirty back in solid muscle. The boy looks like he is cut out of granite. I went to his last game, and he absolutely destroyed anyone they put in front of him,” Raymond explained to the relaxed doctor on the sofa.