The dinner table was set with mismatched plates and silverware, the only common factor being their cheapness. The steam from the Sloppy Joe's filled the air, mixing with the heaviness of unspoken tension. No one spoke or even made eye contact, all lost in their own thoughts. The food sat untouched, forming an island on their plates as if no one wanted to be the first to break the silence. It was a stark contrast to their usual boisterous meals where they talked over each other and laughed with mouths full. But tonight, something had shifted in the family dynamic, which was palpable in the heavy air.
Stephanie's eyes bore into her mother, her normally calm brown gaze now filled with a fiery determination. "We need to go back to church," she stated firmly, each word dripping with urgency. Across the table, her brother George snorted and tried to stifle his laughter, but Stephanie paid him no mind. The fear in her heart was too great.
"Stop joking around, George," she snapped, her voice shaking with emotion as images of hellfire flashed through her mind. "I don't want to die and end up in that place." Her words hung heavy in the air, silencing the other family members who had been silently eating their dinner.
Their mother's green eyes flicked between her children, concern etched on her face. "We need to stay true to our faith," she said slowly, the weight of responsibility heavy in her tone. "But we also need to take action. We'll be going to Walmart to stock up on supplies - God helps those who help themselves." With a determined nod, she stood up from the table and began clearing away the dishes, leaving her children to contemplate their beliefs and their mortality.
The car rumbled down the road, and the poor suspension caused Stephanie and her brother George to bounce against the plush seats in the back. "Looks like the BJC is closed," Stephanie observed, peering out the window as they hit a small dip in the road. "Good thing you don't need any condoms," she teased her single brother with a mischievous grin.
"If I do, I can always dip into your dwindling supply that you hide from Mom," George retorted, trying to one-up his sister. The sharp intake of breath from Stephanie was all the satisfaction he needed. She whipped her head around to glare at him, then quickly looked in the rearview mirror. Their eyes met their mother's gaze, and Stephanie knew she had heard everything they said. A quiet click came from her lips before it was drowned out by their mother's voice.
"I already knew about your secret stash, dear. Just happy my little girl is using protection," she said with a small smile on her face. The atmosphere in the car became restless as both teens couldn't help wondering what other secrets their mother might know about them.
George leaned forward in his seat, peering out the window at the crowded parking lot of the small Walmart. Pickup trucks and a few cars were scattered haphazardly between the faded white lines. The car they were in slowly made its way through the maze of vehicles, finally pulling into a space. "Looks like everyone had the same idea," the mother said as she got out of the car, her hand reaching up to turn on the overhead light. She hurried towards the entrance, her kids trailing behind her, their feet pounding against the pavement as they tried to keep up. Memories flooded back for both children as they raced after their mother, just like they used to in this very parking lot.
The sliding glass doors of Walmart were closed, but a loud voice could still be heard from outside. "You can't take all of it!" The voice shrieked.
"I have the money, don't I?" A gruff and confident voice responded as the Banks family made their way through the doors. "I can buy whatever I damn well please." The same voice continued as a man, Stanley, stood defensively behind his overflowing shopping cart. His protruding belly pressed against the metal handlebars, while his stained jeans dragged on the floor and his worn shoes scuffed against it. He pointed aggressively at a woman blocking his path, her hands resting firmly on her hips and all her attention focused on him.
"You're being selfish, Stanley," She exclaimed, gesturing towards his cart that was blocking the aisle. "You don't need to hoard all of the store's toilet paper. "Her voice echoed throughout the store as she pushed the cart away from Stanley's stomach, its wheels screeching against the floor. She marched forward with determination, pointing her finger at Stanley's bright red and blue flannel shirt.
"Martha, you may be my wife God help me, but that doesn't give you the right to control everything I do," Stanley argued in frustration, swatting away her prodding finger with his large hand. He moved closer to her side and reached out for the metal bar used to push the cart. With one swift motion, he pulled the cart back towards himself causing it to teeter precariously on two wheels. As packages spilled out onto the ground, Stanley's face turned beet red with anger.
"Look at what you did!" He shouted, his knees hitting the ground as he frantically tried to scoop up the scattered toilet paper and shove it back into his cart before anyone else could take it.