12 Chapter Twelve

"Alli, no, we can't have candy," Shane softly chides, delicately drawing Alli from the rows of chocolates and sweets that sit in the cashier lanes, all waiting for the whining children, the sudden craving, the impulse-buy.

"Why?" she challenges, frowning at Shane, but she obeys. For as much hell as his siblings give him, they listen to him more than many siblings would. This is because he is often formally tasked (by his parents) with doing some parental duty with them. When they were busy, he took over. His parents both work as much as humanly possible. They want to save up as much money as possible. The family is moving soon, and every penny counts in the city. Papa has his apprenticeship there, and there's a steady, good-paying job in the future for him afterward. It's a wonderful opportunity, a ray of sunshine for the family, but to get there, they have to pass through the storm.

"Cause candy is bad for you," Shane answers listlessly whilst his eyes rove across the other aisles. Checkout invariably takes what feels like ions. He finally lands back on Papa, standing by the register. Coupons and food stamps are strewn about the counter by the old machine. It's been a couple of minutes already. Ringing everything up on the absolutely ancient register takes a while.

Nevertheless, it is the only store within walking distance for the family. Rory clings to Papa, arms around his father's neck, and the toddler stares at the people behind him with the signature innocence of development and exploration. The only time the family can go to the supermarket is when Shane gets out of school. He is in sixth grade now, so it denotes much later store visits, but Papa needs the kid's help carrying all the groceries.

"You're six seventy-eight short," the cashier croaks. She's like a gecko, with thin, almost inward curling lips, a beak of a nose, bulging eyes, and a waddle. Shane imagines her eating the worms they feed the class gecko in science. A forked tongue, flicking out and lapping up the food. However, the lady has no long tongue to snap up worms- just claws that dart forward and pick up coupons between long, chipping burgundy nails.

"Oh…" Papa says quietly, as the couple people behind them in line curse softly under their breath. Shane ducks his head, ears burning. He pulls Simon and Alli closer.

"I guess… I guess, take off the doll," Papa finally decides, defeat in the dark rings that sag below his eyes. Usually so bright, they are a worn stone today, sunk at the botLuke of a pool, heavy and alone. The little doll had been Alli's birthday present. She'd been seeing commercials for the toy for months, and that's all she wants. The little girl watches the doll as it's set aside. Everything else they bought is food, cleaning supplies, and hygiene items. It's all things the family needs. They don't need the doll. They have a few toys already.

The cashier lady jabs at each key again, loud clicks and beeps sounding out. She snatches at the different coupons and stamps, pulling them to her and inputting the data. Her eyes bulge, and she glares down in irritance, huffing. It has to be done over, the entire thing has to be done over. The register is old.

"I'm sorry," Papa apologizes, disheartened. She huffs, waving her claw dismissively. The line shifts, rocks side to side, takes a glance at the time, and sighs softly.

"Wouldn't have these problems if you just paid for better condoms in the first place," one man grumbles under his breath, monitoring his watch with no desire to be here. Shane's face turns bright red, and he pulls Simon and Alli to him, stepping right up beside Papa. His eyes go wide in shock, but he is far too embarrassed to turn around. Nobody else heard the man.

Papa and Mama had just given him "The Talk" a few months ago. That whole situation had been mortifying enough, but a complete stranger mentioning it! In public! This is how people perceive his family. Unorganized, crass, a disaster that was never planned. Accidents. Simon scowls, wriggling his hand in Shanke's grasp.

"Let go, too tight," he fusses as he attempts to tear away.

"Sorry, Simon," Shane apologizes, voice but a whisper. His neck and ears are bright red- he can feel that creeping heat along his skin. He loosens his grip slightly but keeps a tight enough hold.

"No doll?" Alli asks softly, looking up at Shane and Papa with confusion and sadness. Shane shakes his head. His heart clenches, gut so empty-feeling.

"No doll, All," he says. His voice rasps, and he swallows, clearing his throat. "I know it was for your birthday, but we'll still make it fun," he adds, ruffling her hair and giving her a smile even though the gift isn't what she wanted.