Free The Cure by Athol Dickson Page A

entire alley, from the intersection with Main Street all the way back to the drug store’s receiving door. “I guess.”
    “Okay. Great. So, how’s about that stock?”
    “Okay.”
    “Good. Great. You need anything?”
    “No.”
    “All right, then.”
    After Henry disappeared back into the store, Riley stooped to pick up a final little pile of dirt and trash. He pitched it into the garbage bin. Inside the stockroom he placed the broom where it belonged and turned to face the stack of boxes by the door. There was no way to avoid it any longer. The time had come to carry something up front. He lifted a box and walked to the swinging door that opened onto the sales floor. He paused, looking through the circular window in the door, out into the world beyond with its clean fluorescent lights and its ordered rows of goods for sale and customers with homes and money and cars and jobs and other people in their lives.
    It was one thing to work alone back in the stockroom. He actually kind of enjoyed it. But out there with this box in his hands he couldn’t hide behind his homelessness. With work to do, he would no longer clearly be himself. They might mistake him for one of them. They might have expectations. That lady over there, and the other one across by the checkout counter, would be able to look right at him without turning away. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen. It didn’t feel right, because in fact he was not one of them. He might have clean hands and a job to do, but he was still a ghost.
    As Riley stared into the outside world the front door of the drug store opened and a young woman came in from the street. He couldn’t focus on her clearly because of the distance, but she walked straight toward the back and turned at the rear aisle just beyond the door where he was standing, and he watched her profile through the glass as she passed, and felt his heart surge up into his throat. Then she was out of sight, back around to the right at the pharmaceutical counter, but he could hear her well, talking to Henry over there.
    “Hi ya, Bree,” said the pharmacist. “How ya doin’?”
    “Got that prescription ready?”
    “Ayuh. Just a minute.”
    A pause, and Riley figured Henry had gone somewhere to find the order. With the box forgotten in his hands, Riley craned to see her through the window, actually pressing his nose up against it, but she was just beyond his field of vision. Then she wandered over to a display at the end of one of the rows. He could see her, and the blood roared in his ears. He couldn’t make out details, but he could see she was beautiful. He stared, and the young woman became a little girl. He thought of dense green canopies and the calls of parrots and the smell of wood fires on the river. He thought of laughter and naked children chasing each other all around his legs and Waytee’s wrinkled smile. He forgot himself and dropped the box he was holding. She turned at the sound of it and he ducked below the glass. Picking up the box, he stood slowly, steeling himself against the possibility that she might still be looking, but willing to risk that in order to see more of her. She had moved back out of sight.
    He heard Henry ask, “Don’t ya have school today?”
    “I got a pass.”
    “Okay,” said Henry. “That’s thirty-nine fifty.”
    If the girl replied, Riley could not hear her.
    Henry spoke again. “Uh, Bree? Does your mom know ‘bout this?”
    “The doctor said you can’t tell her.”
    “I’m not gonna tell her. I’m just kinda worried.”
    “You better not.”
    “Okay, but are you real sure you wanna do this?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Because you’re kinda young for this.”
    “All my friends are on the pill.”
    “Naw, not really. I’m the fella they buy it from, remember? I’d know.”
    “Well, you just better not tell anyone.”
    Riley held the box in both his hands and watched through the small round window as she threaded her way back through the store. He