Jerry was freezing as he stood outside the locked doors of
Malcom’s. He’d never even been in the parking lot before last night, let alone
shopped there. But the price on the Merry Mermaid doll that his daughter had
been talking about was simply too irresistible. He had to have one for her, and
since his soon-to-be-ex-wife was too fucking cheap to spring for it, Jerry
froze his ass off with barely more than the price of the doll in his bank
account and waited for the store to open. Now, Wal-Mart had opened at 6:00 PM
last night, but the Malcom’s price was much better, although he was assured
when he asked the clerk on the phone Wednesday that there would be a limited
number of dolls available. That’s when Jerry decided to skip the shitty
turkey roll his sister made and camped out in front of the store. He had
to have one. Just this once, he wanted his daughter to get something she
actually asked for. Just. This. Once.
Jerry had been here too long already. His legs were sore,
and his back ached, and his fingers were thick lumps of meat waiting to be
sliced into party-sized pepperoni. But in just three more minutes, Jerry would
make a beeline for the toy department and…shit. “Where was the toy
department?” he wondered. He leaned in and tried to see if there was a sign. Nothing.
He hadn’t thought about this until right now. Right now. Three, no TWO minutes
before the store opened. He turned to the woman beside him, a largish sturdy
woman with a scarf and hat covering what little was left exposed by her heavy
coat. “You wouldn’t know where the toy department is in here, do you?” He
smiled a friendly, if chilled smile.
“Fuck off, buddy. Next time, do your homework.” The woman
barked at him and laughed. She turned to face her friend, “Fucking Einstein shows up
to a store and doesn’t even know where shit is. Fucking moron.”
Her friend laughed nervously, sounding mostly like she was
scared to do anything else. She was a much younger, much thinner woman, her
blonde hair springing out from under her red hat. Jerry caught her eye
with his own, a look of desperation on his face. He opened his eyes wider in a
silent beg. He darted his eyes, hoping she would pick up on the visual cues.
She did, thankfully. She moved her eyes up then right, and then repeated the
motions. He nodded, understanding. Straight in and then right. The toys must be
in the back of the store. He eased up a little. One minute.
The Thick Woman jostled him against the door, laughing at
his surprise. Jerry turned to face her, really pissed off. As he began to turn
his shoulders towards her, the doors sprung open and she pushed his chest hard,
sending him sprawling into the security pole alongside the entryway. Jerry was
flailing, trying to regain his balance as the crowd poured into the store. He
panicked when he saw the number of people rushing past. “Shit!” he cried,
getting steady to his feet and breaking into a run. “I hope that fat fuck dies
in this”
He ran as directed, looking right again and again to gage
where the hell the toys were. Then he saw the sign, skidded right, and broke
into a full run as he saw more people looking at him from other aisles. They
descended on the toy department like starving locusts to a cornfield. Shelves
were stripped clean as they passed, but Jerry wheeled and spun, searching for
his treasure. He saw the pile almost too late, as there were only three left
when he got to the pallet in the aisle way. He reached through the throng of
rabid shoppers and grabbed one of the boxes, his heart beating hard in triumph.
As he pulled the box through the flailing mass, he felt a sudden tug. The Thick
Woman had her hands on Jerry’s doll, her eyes narrowed to slits and she barked
at him “Loser!” as she pulled the toy from his grip.
Jerry lost it. He sprung over the heads of the struggling
crowd and landed hard on The Thick Woman. She fell to her knees and sent the
doll spiraling away under a rack adorned with smiling elves and children’s
coats. He scampered after it on his hands and knees, scurrying at first before
getting his feet under him. He grabbed the doll and began to run down towards
the registers, the voice in his head screaming at him “JERRY! IT’S A FUCKING
DOLL!” “Goddamned right it’s a fucking doll. It’s MY fucking doll, and that fat
fuck isn’t going to get it” he answered to himself as he admired the red hair
and bright smile of the toy.
The Thick Woman slammed her carriage into Jerry from behind,
hard. His heel blossomed in pain and Jerry fell onto the white tile. Blood
exploded from his nose and his forehead as his face struck the floor. He was in
agony. The Thick Woman picked up the doll, leaned down, and told Jerry to go
fuck himself before retrieving her cart and dropping the doll in with the other
items. Jerry struggled against the encroaching gray around the edges of his
vision. Blackness threatened to take him, and his body wanted to give into that
silent bliss. He heard The Thick Woman laugh from somewhere out in the
nearby aisles.
Jerry got to his feet and fought against the dizziness. He
could see The Thick Woman sauntering triumphantly down the lane, the seams of
her pants threatening to burst their banks and flood the store with her
dimpled, gelatinous cellulite. He focused like a cat on a mouse and decided
that he was not going to lose his doll to her. Not ever. He moved slowly,
stalking her though the store. He pushed other carriages out of the way, once
actually walking almost a full aisle with someone’s overfull cart. The owner
yelled, but Jerry paid no mind. If the chance ever came. he'd kill her with his own bare hands.
He caught up with The Thick Woman in the garden center. She
was rifling through a large bin stuffed with small stuffed animals. Her back
was towards him the whole time. Jerry grabbed a cart full of snow shovels and
pushed it past her in the slow procession of others trying to get by. Thinking how delicious it would be to strangle her instead, he
reached out as he passed, lifting the doll from her abductor and returning it
to her rightful home: Jerry’s arms. He pushed silently past, ditched the
carriage so it would impede her potential pursuit, and made a dash for the
registers.
Jerry was free, and the Merry Mermaid would bring a smile to
his daughter in a time when there were few smiles to be had. He saw The Thick
Woman cross in front of his car, barking at Blondie the whole time. Blondie did
a double take as she saw Jerry through the windshield. Jerry winked, feeling
cheerful for the first time all morning. His head ached, his nose throbbed, but
Jerry was one happy guy. He beat that old bitch to the present of the season
and he would never have to look at her fucking face again, since this was the
last time he would ever come to this shitty store.
Home and clean, Jerry grabbed a plate of cheese and crackers
and dropped into one of the old stools that served as kitchen seating. His
recently-furnished bachelor pad was decorated in “Modern Ghetto” as he put it.
But after the big D was finalized, he would invest in something better. Either
way, his daughter would have a good Christmas this year. Jerry slid one
of the slices of cheese into his mouth as he flipped on the countertop TV to
watch the news. The segment was apparently on the “Black Friday Mayhem” that
occurred all over the nation, and several videos of trampling and stampedes,
one of a woman and a midget fighting over a 40” TV at Target or something, and
then several of people fist fighting at registers. Jerry chuckled at the
videos, remembering his own struggle this morning. The announcer, a
good-looking woman in her 40’s dressed in a festive (and very low-cut) dress
that flattered her shape, turned the story over to Chuck, who would share a
local tale of sadness.
Jerry sat bolt upright. The Thick Woman was on the screen,
tear tracks staining her face. Blondie held her arm. “Margie Swanson went out
this morning to buy gifts for Saint Cecelia’s Home for Lost Children, a shelter
for abused and abandoned children. What she found, instead, was the violence of
an angry man.
“I was so shocked when I was attacked by this horrible man,”
The Thick Woman explained through tears, “and then I realized later that he
stole the doll from my carriage when I wasn’t looking. Renee told me later that
she saw the man smiling…smiling… after the deed was done, as he was
driving away.” She began sobbing into Blondie’s (Renee’s?)
shoulder. Blondie stared into the camera silently.
“Renee McCallister is a deaf mute who grew up under the care
of Miss Swanson. She shared this earlier…” the announcer trailed off as the
screen cut to Blondie signing and an interpreter speaking for her. “This man
probably doesn’t even know we do this. I’m sure he was simply caught up in the
moment, but his actions color the season for all of us. It is this sort of
uncalled-for violence that makes it more and more difficult to enjoy the hustle
and bustle of the shopping season- especially when that shopping will benefit
these children who are so much worse off than our own.” The interpreter spoke
as Renee signed furiously.
Jerry was humbled, but angry. If that Margie Swanson is such
a saint, why did she act like such a total bitch this morning? Fuck her. Fuck
her and Blondie. The news caster went on and on, saying how the children
from the Elaine Donovan Elementary School were responsible for selecting gifts
to be given to the children of Saint Cecelia’s. The entire fourth grade class
had participated. Jerry’s daughter went to Donovan. She was in the fourth
grade there. Holy shit. Suddenly Jerry felt very small and very far away. Had
he misheard his daughter? Did she talk about that fucking doll because it was a
part of her class project? He scrambled to remember. He checked his texts from
her, and his email. There was no mention of it.
Had he only been half-listening when she said it? Had he
only wanted to find something to one-up his ex? Jerry stood up from the stool
and pulled his hair in his hands. “FUCK!” he cried aloud. “FUCK FUCK FUCK!” He
grabbed his phone and punched his ex’s number. It rang several times before she
picked up.
“Yes?” She answered curtly.
“Hey Sharon, it’s Jerry. Listen, did B want anything special
for Christmas this year? I mean, she was talking about some mermaid doll or
something… did she want that? Were you planning on getting it...?”
“I know It’s you, Jerry. And no, she didn’t want that
mermaid thing. She wants a bike. She told you this already. There was something
at school about the doll… some shit about an orphanage or something. Don’t you
listen to her, Jerr-y?” She dragged his name out venomously.
Jerry stared at the newscast. He was on TV, well, you
couldn’t see his face, but there he was. “…home video of the assault has just
surfaced. It’s raw, and we apologize for the quality. “ the faceless reporter
spoke. In the video, you could plainly see jerry jump over people and land on
The Thick Woman, send her sprawling, then grab the doll and run off. Jerry’s
face was never clear enough to make out. Jerry sat back down and spoke into the
phone “I gotta go” and hung up.
Jerry dropped the package into the large slot at the post
office. He had wrapped it in plain brown paper and addressed it to Renee
McCallister, care of Saint Cecelia’s. He felt horrible about it all. As he
drove home, he listened to the news. It started to feel like a badly-scripted
movie, and Jerry was starring as the Mermaid Mauler. “Nice name” he thought to
himself when he first heard it.
Later that night Jerry was feeling better about it all. The
buzz had died down to a dull roar on the news, and he never made YouTube at
all. “Dodged a bullet there” he said to the empty apartment. His phone
rang. It was Sharon. “Hello?”
“Jerry, listen. It seems I owe you an apology.”
Jerry was stunned. “Okay, for what?”
“B WAS talking about that damned doll. She hasn’t
stopped talking about it all day after you called – there was something about
it on the news and she won’t shut up. I bought her one today, but I was
wondering if you’d like to split it with me. We could give it to her together.”
“She wants the doll? Where did you get one?”
“You know that shithole across town… Malcom’s or something?
They had a pallet of them just sitting there. I grabbed a couple, sent one to
that woman who was attacked…did you hear? From Saint Cecelia’s”
Jerry laughed into his hands. A whole pallet of them. In his mind, he saw hundreds of the dolls dancing around in a ling conga line through the store, leading him into the open mouth of a volcano where The Thick Woman stood with a baseball bat and struck him in the kidneys until he was pissing blood into the lava flow. “Sure, Sharon. I’ll split it
with you.”
“What’s so funny?” Sharon asked.
“I’ve had a long day is all. A very long day.”
