A Little S’more Time Jesse Friend An aggressive knock on the front door stopped Vaughn from finishing his last drink. Setting the icy cocktail on his notepad, he stumbled through miles of shag carpet towards the noise. The pounding came again before he could reach the front of the house, persistent and jolting, like the police serving a warrant with a battering ram. “Whaddayawant?” Vaughn barked at the uninvited visitor. It had been weeks since he’d pulled the blackout curtains shut. He’d convinced himself the world had ended for everybody, not just for him, and was surprised to see a tiny girl silhouetted in the sunset. She was no taller than his waist, with three right hands stuck out to introduce herself. “Hi there, I’m Tara with Troop 1331...” She pushed on without waiting for his name, nearly breathless, “...and I’m here tonight selling cookies, do you wanna buy some?” “No.” Vaughn shoved the door, but a white light-up sneaker and two sweaty little hands kept it from closing. “Wait!” Her voice was a helium balloon about to pop. “Why not?” “What?” The pink and purple lights on her right shoe were still flashing in the door frame as she repeated, “Why don’t you want to buy my cookies?” His truth was biting, like a fierce snake with fangs dripping venom. He wanted to say, “Well, ya see, when you’re old as shit, and you have to watch the woman you’ve loved for 35 years slowly die as she’s eaten alive from the inside by malignant tumors, leaving you more alone in the world than it turns out you can live with, guess what, Buttercup? You won’t give a shit about cookies either.” But the voice in his head was still Becca’s, and she wouldn’t allow it. The glass waiting for him in the kitchen was beginning to sweat. A ring of blue words he’d scribbled on the notepad was starting to bleed, and Vaughn didn’t know what to do. “I’ll tell ya what.” Tara put her hands on her hips like a used-car salesman and stood up straight. Looking Vaughn in his bloodshot eyes, she said, “Since we’re neighbors, I’m prepared to give you the friends and family discount. That takes a box of Slim Minties from $25 to $18. What do you say to that?” “I don’t have the money,” Vaughn lied. He was paid under the table for working
6
