Present Day
It was a dream he was used to having by now. Stephen knew it was a dream because it always started the same way.
"Don't worry, he's fine," grinned Danny, from the passenger seat of his friend Rob's Dodge Intrepid. For himself, Rob took one more drink from the red solo cup before tossing it in the trash and climbing into the driver's seat.
"What if he's not fine?" Stephen asked, casting a weary eye to Rob. "He can barely walk."
"We are just going to get more juice for the vodka. The store is literally two minutes away. Relax, Stephen," chuckled Danny.
"Tell yer wife snot to worry," slurred Rob, poking fun at Stephen's concern.
"We're good," said Danny, firmly. "We'll see you in ten minutes," he said as the car roared to life. It was the last sentence Stephen would ever hear from Danny. He watched the car pull out of the driveway and enter a long stretch of road. The car was still within eyesight of those at the party when it veered off the road and struck a tree headfirst, causing enough of a noise to catch everyone's attention.
BOOM.
Stephen Willow's eyes sprang open with a start, with his nightmare coming to an end. He reached up to wipe his brow, still covered in sweat from the visions in his head. He glanced over at the clock, which illuminated the time of 7:07 am. His alarm was set for 7:15 am. Sighing to himself at waking up just before his alarm, Stephen sat upright and put his feet on the side of his bed. He tried to shake the memories of that smoking, destroyed car from his mind, yet no matter how hard he tried, the images never went away.
Standing up from his bed and giving a long stretch of his limbs, he tried to ignore the mess of clothes piled in different spots on the floor. His own hamper was overflowing as well, in need several loads in the washer to get caught up. Not even his desk was clean, piled up high with papers, receipts, and books from his college courses that had done nothing but collect dust. All would have to wait, as Stephen's schedule today provided little time for keeping up with chores.
He walked out of his room and headed down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for the day. At this time of morning, it was still relatively quiet, and only his mother, Theresa, would be out of bed. The door to his brothers' room was still closed, and Stephen imagined they were still fast asleep.
After putting on some deodorant and using the toilet, Stephen returned to his room to begin getting ready for work. Normally, he would get to sleep in on a Saturday, not going into work until 2 pm and closing the store out at 10 pm. Today though, he had picked up an extra shift, as he needed the money. He dressed in a khaki pants and a green shirt, one of many he owned, since the grocery store he worked in, called Price Chopper, had a dress code mandating green as a major portion of one's clothing. Stephen slipped his smock over his shoulders as well, and after a quick glance in the mirror, walked out of his room towards the kitchen.
Sure enough, his mother was already cooking breakfast. If the family had one thing going for them, it was the fact that Theresa Willow was an amazing cook. It often amazed Stephen what she was able to whip up from limited ingredients and make taste absolutely delicious.
"Good morning, sweetie," she said, looking over her shoulder as she turned over several links of sausage.
"Morning, mom," replied Stephen, looking in the refrigerator for orange juice. Pinned to the front of the refrigerator was the invitation to his cousin's wedding, which was rapidly coming up. Stephen tried not to look at it, since his invitation highlighted a plus one. Who would possibly want to go with him to the wedding as his plus one?
He loved his cousin, Shelly, dearly, but wished for the chance to back out of her wedding. Not because he didn't want to see her get married, but for the selfish reason of being there alone, with no one to share it with.
"Do you have time to eat before you go to work?" She asked, giving a casual glance to his work attire.
"Yeah, I think. As long as breakfast is about ready," he replied.
She began to make a plate before he even finished, "Of course! Here, start with eggs. I'll bring over some sausage links in a moment or two when they are done cooking."
Stephen sat down with his plate and began eating. He hoped to be able to eat his fill before his brothers woke up, but the lingering scent from the kitchen must have made its way to their bedroom, as the both of them appeared at the entrance to the kitchen shortly after. Of course, it was like seeing double for most. They were identical twins, and mirrored each others appearance in just about every way.
"Eggs again, mom?" The first twin, Chris asked, still wiping the sleep from his eyes.
"Eggs again, sweetie," answered their mother with a smile, but with pained eyes hiding behind it.
"Okay, well load me up, please," responded Chase, the other twin. It wasn't uncommon for them to speak and respond as one person, instead of two.
Stephen paid them no attention as they made their plates and sat down. He casually fiddled around with the first sausage link he was given, as he had observed a past due notice sitting on the table.
Great, what's this
, he thought, as his hands reached out to examine it more closely. This one was from their heating company. They were two months behind and this was the second notice they had received.
Theresa Willow observed her son holding the notice, and dropped in to place more food on her younger sons' plates. "Don't worry about that, Stephen. I just got an extra fifty dollars in my paycheck on Thursday, so I can get that taken care of right away."
"I thought we took care of this, though mom? I remember paying it last month!"
Theresa nodded, "You did, but this bill is for this month's charges, plus the late fee for last month," she said, quietly.
Stephen sighed, putting the bill down. This had been common scene in their home lately. While things had been getting better since Stephen started working full time, Theresa had over ten years of experience of supporting three boys on her own. Ever since their father, Jerry Willow, had walked out of their lives, she had done her best to support their family on her own. Even in the best of times things were usually lean. Stephen could recall several nights going to bed hungry with no other options.
Yet, with the gaining of new hours at Price Chopper, Stephen's paychecks had been going farther, and he hoped it was just a matter of time before they could be caught up. Still, moments like these could be demoralizing, a reminder that they were only one small move away from poverty.
Noticing her son's stress, Theresa casually put a comforting hand on his back, "We're okay, sweetie. Please try not to worry."
"I'll try, mom," he answered, quietly, and returning his attention to his plate, where he went to stab his last sausage with his fork. Unfortunately, his fork hit only the porcelain of the plate. His sausage was gone.
Looking up from his plate, he could see the guilty eyes, and full mouth, of his brother, Chase. "Wer ya eatin' that?" he asked with a full mouth.
"Not anymore," sighed Stephen, although he had a hard time being angry with his brothers. Besides, it's not like Stephen needed any more food as it was. His jeans were already too tight.
Looking at the clock, Stephen realized that he needed to get moving. Sitting up from the table and depositing his plate in the sink, he reached for his keys.
"What time will you be home tonight, Stephen?" His mother asked, looking up from the stove.
"Probably late. I'm working the double shift, remember? It will most likely be after ten."
"Okay, we'll see you then. Have a good shift!"
Stephen managed a weak smile, "Thanks mom," and just as quickly headed out the door.
----------
"Excuse me young man, can you tell me what aisle the breadcrumbs are in?"
Stephen turned around from stocking bottles of apple juice to face the older lady who had just addressed him. Even though she was more than a foot shorter than him, she was wearing a scowl large enough to show that she'd been looking for those breadcrumbs for quite a while.
Setting the box down on the shelf for balance, he thought for a moment, but ultimately felt unsure.
"Bread crumbs? Hmm, that could be one of two places. They could be in the bread aisle, all the way at the end of the store. Or they just might be in the baking aisle, aisle five. Might want to check both just to be safe," he answered, truthfully. Realistically, they could be in just about any spot since the store's recent reorganization.
"Well, which one is it? Bread aisle or baking aisle?" The old lady asked, impatiently.
"I'm not sure. I can come with you, if you like? Find it together?" He offered, hoping to defuse the situation.
"No thank you, I'll go ask someone who will actually know," she said flatly, turning heel and marching back down the aisle.
Stephen sighed, returning his attention back to his work. Generally, he enjoyed stocking shelves at the store. He could work at his own pace, usually alone or with a friend, and he usually didn't have to deal with customers to the extent that the cashiers did. Yet encounters like this reminded him why he disliked working with the public. If he had his way, he'd be able to work a more solitary job, but there was no plans on the horizon for anything different than the little grocery store.
Not anymore
, he thought sadly.
"What a bitch," came a voice from the other side of the aisle. Stephen looked back over to see the grinning face of his work colleague, Miguel Villalobos, who had obviously heard that entire encounter.
"She must be having a bad day," replied Stephen, offering a smile over to his friend.
"From the sounds of it, every day is a bad day for that one," chuckled Miguel.
Stephen tried to stifle a laugh, but mostly failed. Lately, he had been getting the same shifts as Miguel, and it was usually something he enjoyed. Miguel was his age, paying his way through college, and basically a similar social outcast as Stephen. For that reason, they got along pretty well, and Stephen had been using him to fill the void left by... well, to fill the void.
He was jealous of one thing in particular about Miguel, in that at the end of summer, he would go back to college and leave Price Chopper behind. Honestly, it was not that Stephen hated Price Chopper; it served its purpose and put money in his pocket. Yet, he hated that he felt stuck here, especially after having to drop out of his own community college after just one semester.
What made things even worse was that it wasn't due to his grades: Stephen's first semester earned him a solid 3.4 GPA. No, the reason he had to drop out was the same reason he had to pick up extra shifts at the store: no money. Despite his mother picking up extra shifts, they weren't able to secure a loan in time to make the next semester's registration. With no cash to register for classes, he had only planned a brief hiatus and a return the following year. But then his grandfather got sick enough to have be hospitalized, and their money situation just spun out of control. It was all the family could do to stay afloat, and for the time being, that meant no college.
