LIFE
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
At what age might one question what is my purpose in life? Thelma Thomas met that day after 54 years and 50 weeks while sitting on a seaside bench as seals barked and gulls squawked. The world seemed to be falling off its axis of normality with wars, and political grievances, along with petty or not so petty crime in her hometown. Was it always like this? Her first question of introspection was surprising. Am I afraid of dying? She didn’t think so. Have I made a difference to anyone other than myself? There were instances that seemed worthy, but is there a threshold? She had loved, and loved deeply. Surely that loving affected another.
An early memory was the taste of mud, having been tripped and pushed while holding a treasured worn out Raggedy Ann. Small in size and cursed with a stutter, Thelma was an easy target by those who picked on someone different. Scolded for biting in retaliation, her mother was too harried to offer a better response, thus Thelma intuitively learned the benefit of being observant and accepting the premise of trial and error. If completing a spoken sentence was difficult, spitting out a single word could work wonders, especially if paired by the right gesture or physical stance. Favorite words included fool, idiot, or moron, and hands on hips with a head toss added extra meaning. Often chased for fighting back, her ability to outrun the boys was an early thrill that built confidence, and allowed her to laugh heartily even when treated unkindly.
By age seven, Thelma was called on to be a second mom to the younger ones, often the case in large families of modest means. Everyone was expected to chip in, and Thelma accepted the responsibility as normal growing up. Her escape to a larger world came from an old National Geographic, and the reading room was a single bathroom she could quickly occupy on a moment’s notice.
Reading and running were the two “R’s” that brought both joy and freedom from her daily routine. At the high school freshman track tryouts, the coach did a double take on her long distance times, moved her to varsity, and early victories did wonders for self esteem in that critical adolescent period. By her senior year, Thelma was focused on joining the Peace Corps after college and exploring the heart of Africa. How quickly dreams vanish. A month before graduation, the school nurse confirmed Thelma was pregnant.
The boy was a sprinter on the track team, and the two ran together in the offseason. It was never a serious relationship, just inexperienced kids that went too far in petting on several occasions. Their parents tried to take charge, but hotly disagreed on every conceivable point. A month later the situation clarified as the father-to-be disappeared, and Thelma announced without equivocation that she would be a single mother and live at home, or find another place if kicked out.
The garage was converted into a bedroom with bathtub, sink, and toilet. Wallace, nicknamed Wally from the onset, was a bubbly inquisitive child, and Thelma, from years of nurturing siblings, was an attentive and affirming mother.
Shop & Buy was owned by Stuart Smith III. Originally founded by his grandfather in the 1930’s, his office was above the produce section, and its large picture window provided ample viewing of all aisles. Trying to run the show with three employees was taking a toll on his health, and foolish if not potentially deadly. One day, looking down on the floor, he saw the pint sized young mother holding her baby with one arm and waving her other hand at the grocery shelves. She was continually offering unsolicited advice whenever she shopped. He causally walked down the stairs and headed her way. Before he could speak, Thelma called out, “Stu, stop rearranging everything, you’re driving us crazy.” In feigned exasperation, he replied, “If you can do it better, come work for me.” Thelma never looked back, and Stu found the partner he desperately needed.
The community coalesced around Shop & Buy, watching Wally grow, witnessing Thelma bring innovation to their favorite store, and chatting with a smiling Stu enjoying his role as greeter. Dinner out on the eve of Wally’s junior high graduation marked another seminal event. Stu proposed marriage and Thelma replied “Yes, as long as I can keep my last name.” Stu’s one word response was “Deal.” There was a ten year age gap between the two, but neither gave it a second thought. Wally soon had the official father he always wanted. Four years later, Wally passed on a university education and chose the local community college, not wanting to live further away. The grocery business was in his blood, and like his mother, he was creative and resourceful, treating the store as if it was his own. On his 21st birthday, his desired gift was quite reasonably priced as the name tag read “Wally Smith, Assistant Manager.”
Pressed by Stu, Thelma had to name her dream destination for a delayed honeymoon and their 10th wedding anniversary. She did not need to revisit favorite travel guides to answer, it was Paris. As the departure date neared, Wally insisted they not call, write, nor give one thought about the store, just enjoy the two weeks away. Thelma hugged her son and whispered, “We’re lighting a candle at Norte Dame Cathedral, thankful for family, our store, and abundant blessings.”
A men and boy’s choir was rehearsing by the high altar. Stu and Thelma stood before the tiered rack of candles in red glasses. The choir voices, near angelic, and carried by incredible acoustics, surrounded their space. After lighting a candle, each said a prayer. Stu said he would sit in a pew while Thelma walked by the little chapels on each side of the nave. As she returned to his side, she thought perhaps her husband was meditating. But Stu had passed away from a heart attack at the age of 55.
Work, hard work was the best medicine for undeniable grief. Life insurance proceeds provided seed money for Thelma and Wally to build a larger more modern store on the grounds of the parking lot. “Stu’s Shop & Buy” opened on the 4th of July with free hot dogs sizzling as The Main Street Boys belted out “It Don’t Mean A Thing.” For Thelma, most dear was the bronze statue of Stu out front in a familiar greeter’s pose.
Love was in the air. Wally had a crush on Mindy the first day she walked into the store and asked for the health food section. “All our food is healthy. Look at me,” he grinned while flexing a bicep. “Okay Mr. Assistant Manager, you can be my trainer. Now point me to the nutritional supplements. I’m in a hurry.” He turned serious. “I wish we had such a section, but they can be expensive items to carry if I order wrong, and it’s been outside my comfort zone.” She opened her purse and handed him a business card that read, Mindy Davis, Dietician. “I can coach you if you’re serious” was her reply. A week later, employee number eleven was added to the accounting roll.
A month before Thelma’s 48th birthday, Wally and Mindy exchanged vows. Lou Ramirez, their meat manager was Wally’s best man, and Mindy had asked Thelma to be her Matron of Honor. Thelma was overjoyed to now have a daughter. Mindy was a poised young woman, sure of herself and seeking to grow professionally. Thelma also knew Mindy could add a dash of polish to her son and broaden his horizon beyond groceries.
Sitting at her office desk in the late afternoon, she looked down and saw the man enter the store. She nicknamed him “Snitcher.” When you grow up poor, it is easy to spot another with quiet burdens and secret stories. She chuckled at his inventiveness. Never going straight for his need, Snitcher would wander around, picking up then putting back items until he would discreetly pocket his goal before buying a cheap travel sized item like shaving cream. He was on the prowl again when Thelma decided enough is enough and walked down the stairs. Rather than seeing Snitcher in the aisle, she saw herself with six month old Wally and Stu walking her way. “Hello young man, my name is Thelma.” “I know who you are, I ain’t done nothing wrong “ he said with an angry glare. She smiled warmly, “I just wanted to thank you for being a regular customer, and to offer you a job. The pay is good, and everything you buy is 20% off.” She finished the sentence while tapping the zipped jacket pocket holding several items. Her instincts were right, Andy became a loyal employee, and his family became part of their greater store family in the years ahead.
It was Monday, and like clockwork, Thelma unlocked the front doors at 6:30am and immediately locked them from the inside after entry. The store opened 30 minutes later, and it gave her a chance to walk the aisles to check on the late night cleaning and restocking. Lou, and Ben his assistant butcher, arrived at 5:00am and entered by the rear doors off the loading dock. Thelma was struck by the quietness. Lou Ramirez had a gifted voice and usually sang ballads as he carved meat or transferred trays from the massive cold box to the glass cases. Wally had recently placed Andy on the early shift to take a greater role in fresh produce, and he too was a singer and whistler prior to store opening. Lights were on but there was no sign of an employee. As she pushed the rubber curtains aside and entered the back room, Lou, Ben, and Andy sat on the concrete floor with hands and ankles tied with heavy duty plastic cuffs. Lou looked up and then toward her left, “We were jumped as we opened the back doors.” Two hooded men were by the wall. The one standing was football player sized and wore a shoulder holster that held a gun. A smaller man squatted, making circular motions with his gun on the floor as if drawing a picture. The big one held out his arms as if seeking a hug.
“Hello Ms. Thomas. Let me guess. It must be 6:30am.” She was in a nightmare, one of those hellish dreams in which you start by feeling safe and happy when suddenly darkness descends. Then you realize this is reality, it is actually happening. He stepped toward her, “Your phone please.” There were openings for his eyes, green, and his mouth, a space between the two upper teeth reminding her of Michael Strahan of Good Morning America. He placed his large hands on her upper arms, and although she tried to squirm from his grip, it was impossible. “The next 20 minutes are critical for your safety and these fine men. Do exactly as I say and all ends well. Ignore my requests and folks will suffer. Now let’s go up to your office.”
Brink’s came between 8:30 a.m. and 9:00 a.m. on Mondays to take the excess cash from the prior seven days and leave coins if needed. Checks were dropped nightly at the bank drop box, but Stu always insisted they retain the cash until the armored truck arrived, not wanting to put anyone in harms way. As they walked, Thelma calmly assessed the situation. The cash is unimportant, my people’s safety is the priority. Once inside, the demand was expected: “Open the safe.”
As she was kneeling and spinning the dial to initiate the four number combination, shouting erupted from below and three shots echoed through the building like cannon fire. As her assailant ran to the office door, Thelma, in a cat like move, sprung toward his heels as he started to descend the stairs. His left foot landed on the first step, and as he raised his right foot for the second step, Thelma caught his ankle and held as he fell forward. The forward momentum broke her grip and he tumbled down the stairs hitting the floor and sliding head first into the seafood case with an ugly sounding thud. He did not move. There were no more shots from the back room, but loud voices competing with one another sounded like the fury of Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto. Thelma was on autopilot, and she simply acted instinctively. First finding his holster and removing the gun. Then dropping the gun in the lobster tank nearby. As she peered through the curtain, she needed to suppress laughter. Her three employees, still with cuffed hands and ankles, sat on top of the assailant with all four spewing obscenities back and forth. The perpetrator’s gun, still in his hand was useless as Lou had a knee on his wrist keeping it frozen to the ground. Thelma took scissors that could cut through small bone and pressed the pointed tip into the back of his hand. “Let go of the gun” she calmly said while suppressed tears freely flowed.
The circle of life expanded when Wally and Mindy’s first child was a boy named Stuart. Perhaps weekly, Thelma would find an opportunity to push little Stu through the grocery store aisles while her mind flooded back to the early days. It was not easy to admit she was slowing down, and the doctors could not point to a known cause of her listlessness. With Wally and Mindy now in charge, she focused on the children of employees with tuition free preschool. Quietly on an occasion, a used car would appear in a driveway or a hospital bill mysteriously was erased.
Listlessness became extreme fatigue, and finally ovarian cancer was identified. Wally was incensed it was not detected earlier, but Thelma accepted the diagnosis calmly and dug into research. She listened to the doctors, heard from family and friends, and then formulated her own approach. It would be external-beam radiation therapy first, than surgery if needed, with chemotherapy as a final backup. From her early days overcoming bullying, trials facing a single mother, or paying bills, Thelma considered her challenges a private matter and cancer would be no different. The walls must have ears as flowers started appearing at her doorstep, warm hands would reach out, and while words were not spoken, the eyes conveyed what their heart understood. Thelma was surprised and deeply touched by such an outpouring of love and concern.
“I’m going to the seashore for three days,” she announced to Wally and Mindy. “Just a short getaway to clear my mind.” Her 55th birthday was two weeks away, and she would soon catch up to Stu. If cancer called her to another place, would he be waiting? She laughed out loud thinking of the day he hired her while she was holding little Wally and searching for oatmeal that had magically moved with all the cereals to another aisle. Her thoughts turned somber reflecting on the purpose of life: who you are, those you touched, what you have accomplished, and what still remains undone. A smile formed on her lips. A deep breath was expelled. Thelma was grateful, and she was ready for the days ahead.
RICHARD SWAIN
A SHORT STORY BY RICHARD SWAIN
At what age might one question what is my purpose in life? Thelma Thomas met that day after 54 years and 50 weeks while sitting on a seaside bench as seals barked and gulls squawked. The world seemed to be falling off its axis of normality with wars, and political grievances, along with petty or not so petty crime in her hometown. Was it always like this? Her first question of introspection was surprising. Am I afraid of dying? She didn’t think so. Have I made a difference to anyone other than myself? There were instances that seemed worthy, but is there a threshold? She had loved, and loved deeply. Surely that loving affected another.
An early memory was the taste of mud, having been tripped and pushed while holding a treasured worn out Raggedy Ann. Small in size and cursed with a stutter, Thelma was an easy target by those who picked on someone different. Scolded for biting in retaliation, her mother was too harried to offer a better response, thus Thelma intuitively learned the benefit of being observant and accepting the premise of trial and error. If completing a spoken sentence was difficult, spitting out a single word could work wonders, especially if paired by the right gesture or physical stance. Favorite words included fool, idiot, or moron, and hands on hips with a head toss added extra meaning. Often chased for fighting back, her ability to outrun the boys was an early thrill that built confidence, and allowed her to laugh heartily even when treated unkindly.
By age seven, Thelma was called on to be a second mom to the younger ones, often the case in large families of modest means. Everyone was expected to chip in, and Thelma accepted the responsibility as normal growing up. Her escape to a larger world came from an old National Geographic, and the reading room was a single bathroom she could quickly occupy on a moment’s notice.
Reading and running were the two “R’s” that brought both joy and freedom from her daily routine. At the high school freshman track tryouts, the coach did a double take on her long distance times, moved her to varsity, and early victories did wonders for self esteem in that critical adolescent period. By her senior year, Thelma was focused on joining the Peace Corps after college and exploring the heart of Africa. How quickly dreams vanish. A month before graduation, the school nurse confirmed Thelma was pregnant.
The boy was a sprinter on the track team, and the two ran together in the offseason. It was never a serious relationship, just inexperienced kids that went too far in petting on several occasions. Their parents tried to take charge, but hotly disagreed on every conceivable point. A month later the situation clarified as the father-to-be disappeared, and Thelma announced without equivocation that she would be a single mother and live at home, or find another place if kicked out.
The garage was converted into a bedroom with bathtub, sink, and toilet. Wallace, nicknamed Wally from the onset, was a bubbly inquisitive child, and Thelma, from years of nurturing siblings, was an attentive and affirming mother.
Shop & Buy was owned by Stuart Smith III. Originally founded by his grandfather in the 1930’s, his office was above the produce section, and its large picture window provided ample viewing of all aisles. Trying to run the show with three employees was taking a toll on his health, and foolish if not potentially deadly. One day, looking down on the floor, he saw the pint sized young mother holding her baby with one arm and waving her other hand at the grocery shelves. She was continually offering unsolicited advice whenever she shopped. He causally walked down the stairs and headed her way. Before he could speak, Thelma called out, “Stu, stop rearranging everything, you’re driving us crazy.” In feigned exasperation, he replied, “If you can do it better, come work for me.” Thelma never looked back, and Stu found the partner he desperately needed.
The community coalesced around Shop & Buy, watching Wally grow, witnessing Thelma bring innovation to their favorite store, and chatting with a smiling Stu enjoying his role as greeter. Dinner out on the eve of Wally’s junior high graduation marked another seminal event. Stu proposed marriage and Thelma replied “Yes, as long as I can keep my last name.” Stu’s one word response was “Deal.” There was a ten year age gap between the two, but neither gave it a second thought. Wally soon had the official father he always wanted. Four years later, Wally passed on a university education and chose the local community college, not wanting to live further away. The grocery business was in his blood, and like his mother, he was creative and resourceful, treating the store as if it was his own. On his 21st birthday, his desired gift was quite reasonably priced as the name tag read “Wally Smith, Assistant Manager.”
Pressed by Stu, Thelma had to name her dream destination for a delayed honeymoon and their 10th wedding anniversary. She did not need to revisit favorite travel guides to answer, it was Paris. As the departure date neared, Wally insisted they not call, write, nor give one thought about the store, just enjoy the two weeks away. Thelma hugged her son and whispered, “We’re lighting a candle at Norte Dame Cathedral, thankful for family, our store, and abundant blessings.”
A men and boy’s choir was rehearsing by the high altar. Stu and Thelma stood before the tiered rack of candles in red glasses. The choir voices, near angelic, and carried by incredible acoustics, surrounded their space. After lighting a candle, each said a prayer. Stu said he would sit in a pew while Thelma walked by the little chapels on each side of the nave. As she returned to his side, she thought perhaps her husband was meditating. But Stu had passed away from a heart attack at the age of 55.
Work, hard work was the best medicine for undeniable grief. Life insurance proceeds provided seed money for Thelma and Wally to build a larger more modern store on the grounds of the parking lot. “Stu’s Shop & Buy” opened on the 4th of July with free hot dogs sizzling as The Main Street Boys belted out “It Don’t Mean A Thing.” For Thelma, most dear was the bronze statue of Stu out front in a familiar greeter’s pose.
Love was in the air. Wally had a crush on Mindy the first day she walked into the store and asked for the health food section. “All our food is healthy. Look at me,” he grinned while flexing a bicep. “Okay Mr. Assistant Manager, you can be my trainer. Now point me to the nutritional supplements. I’m in a hurry.” He turned serious. “I wish we had such a section, but they can be expensive items to carry if I order wrong, and it’s been outside my comfort zone.” She opened her purse and handed him a business card that read, Mindy Davis, Dietician. “I can coach you if you’re serious” was her reply. A week later, employee number eleven was added to the accounting roll.
A month before Thelma’s 48th birthday, Wally and Mindy exchanged vows. Lou Ramirez, their meat manager was Wally’s best man, and Mindy had asked Thelma to be her Matron of Honor. Thelma was overjoyed to now have a daughter. Mindy was a poised young woman, sure of herself and seeking to grow professionally. Thelma also knew Mindy could add a dash of polish to her son and broaden his horizon beyond groceries.
Sitting at her office desk in the late afternoon, she looked down and saw the man enter the store. She nicknamed him “Snitcher.” When you grow up poor, it is easy to spot another with quiet burdens and secret stories. She chuckled at his inventiveness. Never going straight for his need, Snitcher would wander around, picking up then putting back items until he would discreetly pocket his goal before buying a cheap travel sized item like shaving cream. He was on the prowl again when Thelma decided enough is enough and walked down the stairs. Rather than seeing Snitcher in the aisle, she saw herself with six month old Wally and Stu walking her way. “Hello young man, my name is Thelma.” “I know who you are, I ain’t done nothing wrong “ he said with an angry glare. She smiled warmly, “I just wanted to thank you for being a regular customer, and to offer you a job. The pay is good, and everything you buy is 20% off.” She finished the sentence while tapping the zipped jacket pocket holding several items. Her instincts were right, Andy became a loyal employee, and his family became part of their greater store family in the years ahead.
It was Monday, and like clockwork, Thelma unlocked the front doors at 6:30am and immediately locked them from the inside after entry. The store opened 30 minutes later, and it gave her a chance to walk the aisles to check on the late night cleaning and restocking. Lou, and Ben his assistant butcher, arrived at 5:00am and entered by the rear doors off the loading dock. Thelma was struck by the quietness. Lou Ramirez had a gifted voice and usually sang ballads as he carved meat or transferred trays from the massive cold box to the glass cases. Wally had recently placed Andy on the early shift to take a greater role in fresh produce, and he too was a singer and whistler prior to store opening. Lights were on but there was no sign of an employee. As she pushed the rubber curtains aside and entered the back room, Lou, Ben, and Andy sat on the concrete floor with hands and ankles tied with heavy duty plastic cuffs. Lou looked up and then toward her left, “We were jumped as we opened the back doors.” Two hooded men were by the wall. The one standing was football player sized and wore a shoulder holster that held a gun. A smaller man squatted, making circular motions with his gun on the floor as if drawing a picture. The big one held out his arms as if seeking a hug.
“Hello Ms. Thomas. Let me guess. It must be 6:30am.” She was in a nightmare, one of those hellish dreams in which you start by feeling safe and happy when suddenly darkness descends. Then you realize this is reality, it is actually happening. He stepped toward her, “Your phone please.” There were openings for his eyes, green, and his mouth, a space between the two upper teeth reminding her of Michael Strahan of Good Morning America. He placed his large hands on her upper arms, and although she tried to squirm from his grip, it was impossible. “The next 20 minutes are critical for your safety and these fine men. Do exactly as I say and all ends well. Ignore my requests and folks will suffer. Now let’s go up to your office.”
Brink’s came between 8:30 a.m. and 9:00 a.m. on Mondays to take the excess cash from the prior seven days and leave coins if needed. Checks were dropped nightly at the bank drop box, but Stu always insisted they retain the cash until the armored truck arrived, not wanting to put anyone in harms way. As they walked, Thelma calmly assessed the situation. The cash is unimportant, my people’s safety is the priority. Once inside, the demand was expected: “Open the safe.”
As she was kneeling and spinning the dial to initiate the four number combination, shouting erupted from below and three shots echoed through the building like cannon fire. As her assailant ran to the office door, Thelma, in a cat like move, sprung toward his heels as he started to descend the stairs. His left foot landed on the first step, and as he raised his right foot for the second step, Thelma caught his ankle and held as he fell forward. The forward momentum broke her grip and he tumbled down the stairs hitting the floor and sliding head first into the seafood case with an ugly sounding thud. He did not move. There were no more shots from the back room, but loud voices competing with one another sounded like the fury of Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto. Thelma was on autopilot, and she simply acted instinctively. First finding his holster and removing the gun. Then dropping the gun in the lobster tank nearby. As she peered through the curtain, she needed to suppress laughter. Her three employees, still with cuffed hands and ankles, sat on top of the assailant with all four spewing obscenities back and forth. The perpetrator’s gun, still in his hand was useless as Lou had a knee on his wrist keeping it frozen to the ground. Thelma took scissors that could cut through small bone and pressed the pointed tip into the back of his hand. “Let go of the gun” she calmly said while suppressed tears freely flowed.
The circle of life expanded when Wally and Mindy’s first child was a boy named Stuart. Perhaps weekly, Thelma would find an opportunity to push little Stu through the grocery store aisles while her mind flooded back to the early days. It was not easy to admit she was slowing down, and the doctors could not point to a known cause of her listlessness. With Wally and Mindy now in charge, she focused on the children of employees with tuition free preschool. Quietly on an occasion, a used car would appear in a driveway or a hospital bill mysteriously was erased.
Listlessness became extreme fatigue, and finally ovarian cancer was identified. Wally was incensed it was not detected earlier, but Thelma accepted the diagnosis calmly and dug into research. She listened to the doctors, heard from family and friends, and then formulated her own approach. It would be external-beam radiation therapy first, than surgery if needed, with chemotherapy as a final backup. From her early days overcoming bullying, trials facing a single mother, or paying bills, Thelma considered her challenges a private matter and cancer would be no different. The walls must have ears as flowers started appearing at her doorstep, warm hands would reach out, and while words were not spoken, the eyes conveyed what their heart understood. Thelma was surprised and deeply touched by such an outpouring of love and concern.
“I’m going to the seashore for three days,” she announced to Wally and Mindy. “Just a short getaway to clear my mind.” Her 55th birthday was two weeks away, and she would soon catch up to Stu. If cancer called her to another place, would he be waiting? She laughed out loud thinking of the day he hired her while she was holding little Wally and searching for oatmeal that had magically moved with all the cereals to another aisle. Her thoughts turned somber reflecting on the purpose of life: who you are, those you touched, what you have accomplished, and what still remains undone. A smile formed on her lips. A deep breath was expelled. Thelma was grateful, and she was ready for the days ahead.
RICHARD SWAIN