Five Hundred Poor by Milligan Noah;

Author:Milligan, Noah;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Central Avenue Publishing
Published: 2018-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

Disobedience

ALAN HAD JUST LOADED HIS TRUNK AND WAS RETURNING HIS CART TO THE BIN WHEN HE WAS STOPPED for a few seconds, that was all, cornered by Mrs. Fourkiller. She asked about the impending school district consolidation, and he asked how Scrappy, her husband, was doing, if he’d gained mobility in his knee since the car accident, and then when he turned around, a mother to one of his students, Amber Montgomery, was screaming.

The IGA parking lot wasn’t packed by any means. A highschool boy herded up shopping carts—Brentley was his name—a long train stretched out in front of him. Mary Redtree, a first-year history teacher, packed the trunk of her hatchback with brown paper bags. A Honda Civic parked in a handicap spot. Parents dragged their children behind them. A few old men, their cowboy hats prim and spotless, chewed tobacco on the bench by the newspaper rack. It was a typical Saturday afternoon, trash blowing around in the harsh spring breeze.

“Amber!” her mother yelled, hands cupped around her mouth. She let go of her shopping cart, and it rolled down the inclined parking lot, crashing finally into an old minivan. “Amber!” she yelled. “Please! Answer me!”

He’d watched Amber while in the store, followed her down the dog food aisle and past the frozen food section and the deli meats, contemplating whether or not he should speak. She was seventeen and pretty in a diffident sort of way. She wasn’t popular or well regarded by her teachers, and when Alan would run across her in school, she was often alone in the library, perusing how-to books for surviving in the wilderness or large-game hunting. She rarely smiled, and when she did, she covered her mouth with her hand. He’d always made an effort to speak with her when he saw her, to say hello and ask her how her studies were going, life at home. At first, she was shy when he asked, but after a while she warmed up to him, and about once per week she would stop by his office to ask his advice about one thing or another, if she should take the ACT or maybe just get a job after graduation in Bartlesville or Tulsa. Alan had to admit that he enjoyed these little meetings—they were the only times he ever felt he made a difference in his position—but lately teachers and parents and students had started to spread rumors of an inappropriate relationship. He’d been thinking he should speak with Amber about this when she spotted him watching her. They’d been in the produce section near the exit, and she approached him with her arms clasped in front of her like she had to protect herself, and Alan couldn’t help but be a little hurt by this—he didn’t, after all, wish her any harm.

Out in the parking lot, her mother ran the aisles. She called out Amber’s name and ran around the back of the store. She looked under cars. She looked in the alcove where the unused shopping carts were stored.

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