“It’s 8:55, and we will be closing in five minutes. Thank you for shopping at your Coreyville Pharmacy,” said the assistant manager over the sound system. Then he walked to the entrance and locked the door. If somebody had waited that late to get their prescription, it was just too bad. They could come back tomorrow. His stomach was screaming for an order of Wendy’s biggie fries.
There was only one customer in the store—a long-haired man in granny glasses with a beard, wearing bell-bottom jeans and an oversized jacket. The old guy was straight out of a history book—San Francisco hippies, 1967. The only thing that spoiled the look was the more modern-looking jacket.
The man had been browsing the isles for ten minutes or so, hands always in his pockets. “Sir, could I please get your help for a minute?” he said.
“Yes, Sir. What do you need?” said the assistant manager.
“I wanted to buy the large container of liquid Cheer, but it’s on the bottom shelf, and I just can’t get down that low to pick it up. Bad knees.”
Poor old guy, thought the assistant manager. “Okay, I’ll be happy to get it for you.”
The man led him to the isle and the assistant manager squatted down to pick up the large plastic bottle. “This one?” He turned his head to look at the old man. But all he saw was something black flying toward his face.
The old man examined the assistant manager lying on the floor. He appeared to be out cold. He returned the gun to the holster underneath his jacket and pulled out a roll of duct tape. He wound it around the wrists and ankles very slowly to avoid making the familiar screeching sound. Then one last piece for the mouth.
Now he would deal with the pharmacist.
“Ma’am? Could I ask you a question?”
“Yes, Sir,” said the young female pharmacist. “How can I help you?”
“I need something for my back. An over-the-counter cream. The strongest thing you’ve got.”
“Okay. That would be capsaicin—the extra strength version. It’s on that isle right there.” She pointed to it.
“Okay. Thanks.”
He walked to the isle and looked for it. After a minute or so, he went back to the pharmacy counter. “Ma’am, I can’t seem to find it.”
“Okay. Just a second and I will help you,” she said as she counted out pills and poured them into a bottle.” She glanced at the weird old man walking back to the pain reliever isle. He walks like a girl, she thought.
When the pharmacist met him on the isle, he stepped back to give her room to locate the cream.
She wondered why he hadn’t been able to find it—right there in front of him. She picked up the box and turned to him. “Here it is.”
But her polite smile vanished when she saw the gun pointed at her chest. She automatically raised her hands.
“Put them down! Now turn around and put your hands behind you.”
The old man holstered his weapon, taped her wrists, and told her to lie on the floor, face down.
He taped her ankles and then he flipped up her skirt, revealing her pink panties. “You’re a sexy thing, aren’t you?” But there was no time for pleasure. He had a job to do. He rolled her to her side, ripped off a piece of tape and stretched it tightly across her quivering mouth and around her head.
He whispered into her ear, “Lie still—if you want to live.” Then he jammed ear plugs into her ears.
The old man quickly moved behind the counter, found a stool and sat down at one of the computers, slumped down so he could not be seen from the street. He keyed in a search for every customer who had filled a prescription for Viagra in the past 60 days. Then he did a similar search on Prozac, Namenda and several other drugs. He printed out the results of each search. When he was finished, he grabbed the printouts and slipped out the back door.
The assistant manager and pharmacist would be found in the morning. They would give their statements to the police, describing the scary old man. But the police would never find that old man. Because he had worn latex gloves. And because he had disguised his appearance and his voice.
And because he was not a man.
*
“Hello?”
“Hi, Baby. I miss you already,” said Carsie.
“Hi, Sweetie. Me too. How’s it going there?” said Elmo.
“Okay, I guess. Grandma is about to show me how to make cherry divinity.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever tasted the cherry kind. I do like the white divinity. Hadley makes it at Christmas time.”
“Oh, but this is much better. I’ll bring you some when I come back.”
“Okay.”
“Are you still working? It’s getting late. And I’m sure you’ve been sitting at that computer all day long.”
“Yes, but I’m in the middle of something and I just don’t want to stop right now.”
“Okay, Honey. But don’t stay up too late. I love you.”
“Love you too. Bye.”
Grandma walked into the kitchen as Carsie was closing her cell phone. “Talking to Elmo?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Don’t worry, Sweetie. The wedding will be back on before you know it.”
“I hope so.”
“You did a great job snagging him, by the way. You looked so cute that day—he never stood a chance.”
“Yeah. But I really do love him.”
“Well, that’s fine, as long as you don’t forget what this is all about.”
“I don’t want to think about that.”
“But you’ve got to come through for us.”
“I will. But after that I just want to live my life with Elmo.”
“Happily ever after, huh? You can try. But he might find it hard to believe you weren’t in on the deal.”
“He’ll believe me. He loves me.”
“Yeah.”
“He will believe me as long as you and Carnie don’t let on.”
“Look, Honey, when you go in on a scam, it’s really hard to come out clean.”
“But I really think I can, Grandma.”
“Okay. Give it your best shot. I won’t rat you out. Neither will your sister.”
“Thanks.”
“Enough of this talk. Let’s make some candy!”
“I’m ready,” said Carsie.
“Okay, then. First, you need to gather the ingredients.”
Carsie would retrieve each item as her grandmother called it out.
“Here’s what you need: sugar…light corn syrup…that package of red candied cherries on the top shelf…vanilla…and eggs.”
“Oh. I didn’t know it had eggs in it.”
“So what if it does?”
“Well, I just worry about Elmo’s cholesterol.”
“That’s what you get for hooking up with an old man, Missy.”
“Grandma!”
“I’m just kidding. Besides, you only use the egg whites, so there’s no cholesterol. Of course, there is a lot of sugar.”
“That’s okay,” said Carsie. “I won’t let him pig-out on them.”
Grandma led her through each step of the process. She learned that it had to be done in a precise way, even using a candy thermometer at one point. Finally, she dropped rounded teaspoonfuls of the mixture onto a sheet of waxed paper. After a sufficient cooling period, they sampled the candy.
“Mmm, yes. Perfect,” Carsie said.
“And now you know how to do it yourself.”
“Thanks, Grandma. Elmo’s gonna love these.”
Her grandmother put her arms around her and held her close. “You’re so welcome, Carnie.”
Carsie expected a big hug. What she got was a long kiss on the lips. She pulled away.
“Grandma! What are you doing?”
“I’m sorry.”
“And why did you call me Carnie?”
*
Macy took a break from reading her romance novel to go downstairs for milk and cookies. But first she peeked into the study and said goodnight to Elmo. She was relieved to see him alone. She half-expected to find Carnie in there, trying to seduce him. Maybe it was mean for her to think of Carsie’s sister in that way. But Carnie deserved it. After all, she had made a sexual advance toward Macy a few nights ago. With Carsie out of the house, who knew what Carnie might try to do with her sister’s fiancé?
And even though she was not interested in Carnie or any other woman in a sexual way, Macy was drawn down to the basement by a titillating curiosity. The Media Room was dark. But she saw a faint light under Carnie’s door as she approached it. She pressed her ear against the door, but heard nothing.
The door jerked open, swinging away from Macy. There was Carnie, standing in the doorway. Her smooth, naked skin reflected the soft glow of the nightlight. Her body was beautiful, perfect. It begged to be touched, caressed. Macy stood in a trance as Carnie’s blazing eyes saw right through her nightgown to the steamy flesh beneath.
Macy shook herself and ran for the stairs. She forgot about the milk and cookies and the romance novel. She locked her door, jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head.