Wow! Savings
From the short story collection "What's Left Over: Stories Inspired By Discarded Things"
“Come on! Quick. She’s talking to some guy,” Eric whispered as we crouched behind the beige gondola shelving.
I peeked between a gap to confirm his assessment—eyes wide and heart pounding so hard it was threatening to explode right out of my body.
At times, I couldn’t believe I what I had been reduced to: stealing shampoo from the neighborhood discount store to resell on the black market. Shortages had been all over the place lately. Hair products had been scarce since late-2029. A discontinued bottle of coveted apple-scented Head and Shoulders was going for $30 a pop in the right circles, despite the sign on the shelf boasting a steal at $12. There were at least 40 bottles there; it was crazy there hadn’t been a run on the place. Word must not have gotten out yet.
We’d heard about this cache of the “good stuff” from an elderly neighbor who made a trip to Save sMart part of her daily routine. She got four bottles: two for her, two for her sister.
“I may starve before my security check comes Friday, but at least my hair will be clean!” she chuckled. I managed to muster a smile at this revelation, making a mental note to drop an anonymous box of canned goods on her doorstep early the following morning.
Eric shoved my arm, breaking me out of my trance with what the fuck? eyes. Sick of waiting, he began gathering bottles up in his arms.
I tried not to feel too guilty. A meat shortage had tanked my food cart startup last year, taking my life savings and a sizable loan with it. I figured big capitalism owed me a favor for my troubles and word on the street was that the shortages were fake, manufactured to cause panic and distraction. Maybe true, maybe not. My only real truth now was that I had rent to pay, a mountain of debt, and no one was hiring. Economics were going to trickle down...one way or another.
The thing about shampoo bottles is that they are slippery. I tried stacking them best I could but it quickly turned comical, with bottles sliding onto the floor through the crooks in my arms, slapping against the vinyl tile and causing a threatening racket. Eric—also struggling hang on—noticed the stacks of plastic laundry baskets on the bottom shelf a few feet away. He snatched one for each of us.
We filled the baskets with every last bottle, until their cheap bottoms bowed and threatened to burst. As soon as his shelf was clear Eric began to take off toward the back exit—one we knew about through a hot tip from a disgruntled ex-employee. We also learned that Dollar Mart was down to a daytime skeleton crew of one, that the security cop on duty took his lunch at 1:15, and that the cameras didn’t actually record.
I bent over and grabbed my basket, straining under it’s weight. Why was shampoo so heavy? As I straightened up I saw two more bottles we’d missed, way at the back on the top shelf. I could leave it, but that was a potential sixty bucks sitting right there. I dropped the basket and hop-lunged for the remaining bottles. I had to stand on the bottom shelf, straining to reach, while the edges of the lower ones dug into my armpit, ribs, and shin.
They were too far back; impossible without a ladder. I looked over to catch Eric waddling through the swinging doors, his heavy load slung low between bowed knees.
“Hey!” someone yelled, most likely the cashier.
Panic rose in my throat. I should have left while I was ahead.
I grabbed the basket, staying crouched behind the shelving as I scurried toward the door to the stockroom. The cashier didn’t seem to be interested in following us, so I hedged my bets and pushed my way on through.
The layout was different than the old employee had remembered. I got a bit turned around. Eventually a door spit me out onto a crumbling concrete staircase that descended onto ragged, weedy, asphalt. Eric was already tossing his portion of our loot in the trunk.
“What the fuck happened?!” he snapped quietly as I trudged up with my unwieldy load.
“Nothing. That loser gave us the wrong layout. I got turned around.”
“No he didn’t,” Eric insisted, but before he could dig in we noticed sirens off in the distance.
“Damn it!” he said, slamming the trunk. The baskets barely fit so he had to lean on it hard, heaving multiple times before it actually latched.
While he did that I fumbled in my pockets for my keys. As I pulled them from my front pocket, I caught sight of something falling from my body, then it vaporized.
“What was that?” I blurted, scanning the ground frantically.
“What was what?”
“I dropped something!” I said, then a mortifying thought occurred to me. “I think it was my ID?”
Eric’s voice hit a high, staccato pitch I had never heard from him before. “Are you stupid?! Why did you bring your ID?!”
“I’m driving! What if we get pulled over?”
I paused just long enough to catch his dramatic eye roll before I got down on hands and knees to look under the car. The sirens were getting distressingly louder.
“We have to go!” Eric insisted. “Now!”
I ignored him and kept looking.
“Come on! Damn it. Did you check your pockets to make sure?”
Realizing I hadn’t, I shimmied my hands from pocket to pocket until the back right revealed the stiff edge I was looking for. I pulled it out to make sure.
“Oh my god,” Eric groaned. “You’re fired!”
I was relieved, but confused. “What’d I drop then?”
“Who cares! Get in now.”
I went to slide my ID back in my back pocket, but missed, letting it clatter on the pavement.
I stepped back to crouch and pick it up and noticed something stuck to the sole of my shoe. It was one of the shelf tags, from inside the store.
Wow! Savings, it said.
The sirens were blaring now, just around the corner. I dropped the tag, watching it flutter under my front tire as I climbed in the car.
We bolted down a side street, planning to snake our way through the neighborhood instead of hitting the main drag. I prayed on my mother’s grave I hadn’t left anything incriminating behind. I’d be worried sick about it for days. Half of twelve hundred dollars—that’s what I guessed my cut of our haul was—would go a real long way. I tried not to think about when our luck would finally run out. For now, this was all we had.