Free Small Apartments by Chris Millis Page B

was sitting on a stool behind the counter, eating free beef jerky and scratching off instant lottery tickets, two of the job’s few perks. Tommy reached inside his backpack and pulled out the paperback copy of
Am I Crazy?
by Dr. Sage Mennox. The inscription on the title page read: For Thomas, May you find wisdom in these pages and forever avoid the Road to Crazy. Mom. He fanned through it several times, stopping at random pages to read:
    Page 154: If your mind is Impure, you will be easily seduced by sex, violence and addiction. Above all else, Impure Minds are interested in instant gratification. If it is sex the Impure Mind craves, you want it all the time. Your only concern is your own selfish satisfaction. In violence the Impure Mind always justifies the means by the end result. For instance, on the street, if you want new basketball shoes, you are compelled to kill a boy who owns a pair. Result: you have your new shoes. In the home, if you want a cold beer and a hot meal, you are compelled to hit your wife until she brings them to you. Result: you have your beer and meal. Selfishness is the root of Addiction. Addiction is unique, however, because it encompasses the other two. You can be addicted to sex and violence. The Impure Mind is ruled by Addiction. It feeds the need for constant gratification. Combine these three vices and you are well on your way down the Road to Crazy.
    Page 3: Therefore in order to become mentally fit and physically strong you must first be willing to admit that you have done a poor job minding the temple. This process is an inner journey. That is why my book is entitled,
Am I Crazy?
and not,
Are You Crazy?
    Page 259: Crazy people look like everybody else. They are not out wandering the streets in their pyjamas. Crazy people are at your jobs and in your families. Your own mother might be crazy.
    “Amen to that, Doc,” said Tommy Balls. He closed the book and set it by the register.
    Tommy had goals in life, he just thought smoking dope was fun. He wasn’t doing it to impress anyone; he mostly smoked alone. And he wasn’t doing it to upset his mother, although that was an added bonus. The fact was he enjoyed it. It made him feel good. So what if I enjoy instant gratification, isn’t that what this modern world is all about? he thought. Isn’t that just a result of our convenience-based society? From the beginning of time, life has been about gratification and convenience. From the discovery of fire and the invention of the wheel to this Open 2-4 store on Forest Avenue in Buffalo. Call it survival or call it convenience, as far as he was concerned the two were interchangeable. Life rewards those who know what they want and take it, he thought. Life is a food chain. The big fish eat the little fish and it’s never the other way around. Besides, he thought, I’m only twenty-four years old, I have a lifetime ahead of me to accomplish my goals.
    While Tommy was lost in his reverie two gangly white youths, no more than sixteen or seventeen years old, entered the store. They both had eyes that looked like they had been rinsed in chlorine then replaced in their sockets. The tall one checked the mirrors at the end of each aisle while the short one stayed at the door. When the tall one was satisfied the store was empty he pulled a 9mm handgun from the back of his droopy pants and put it in Tommy’s face. Tommy nearly fell off his stool. The room was spinning. There was something he was supposed to remember to do. What was he supposed to do? The thief was screaming at him. He looks like a little boy, thought Tommy, except for some curly stubble at the end of his chin and his violet eyes. He’s baked! He’s stoned out of his mind! Oh God, don’t look at him, Tommy thought. You don’t want to know what he looks like. Tommy glanced at the door. The short kid had his hands hidden inside the square pocket of his hooded sweatshirt. Look away, Tommy! His eyes darted back to the tall kid with the