He glanced in his rearview mirror at the black shape of the building as he swerved onto the highway. He could see a small square of light where the entrance was.
And a small black shape in the middle of the square.
That settled it. Fights or no fights, problems or no problems, Virginia was not going to work. Not at The Store. He'd get divorced before he let her apply for a job at that place.
He accelerated quickly, speeding down the highway toward Main, refusing to look in his mirror again until trees had blocked the view of The Store behind him. He did not rest easy until the cruiser was once again parked in front of Len's, and the well-lighted donut shop and its jovial proprietor were all he could see through his windshield.
2
The polarities had reversed.
Bill had been unsure at first whether the change in their winning streaks meant that the outcome of the chess games would return to a normal randomness or whether it meant that the win-loss pattern would simply be transferred between him and Street.
Obviously the latter.
He'd grown to hate the game, but, as before, he felt compelled to play, driven to follow this through to the end.
Yesterday, they'd played computer chess. Street had won.
He was winning today's board game.
No, he had won today's board game. 'Check,' he said, moving his bishop into place. 'Mate.'
Street examined the position of the pieces on the board, then with one sweep of his hand knocked them to the floor. 'Shit.'
'Two to two,' Ben announced.
Street stood. 'I need a beer. Anyone else want one?'
Both Bill's and Ben's hands went up.
'Buds all around.' Street retreated to the kitchen, emerging a moment later with three cans. He tossed one to each of them, then popped open his own, taking a long draught. He sat back down, began picking up the chess pieces off the floor.
Bill stooped to help him.
'I can do it,' Street said.
'I don't mind.'
'If you really want to help . . .' Street's voice trailed off. He straightened, threw the pieces into the box, downed a long swig of beer. 'Ah, fuck.'
Bill frowned. 'What is it?'
Street sighed. 'You know I don't like to trade on friendship,' he said.
'I've never tried to make either of you feel obligated to buy equipment from me, I've never tried to force you or con you. But I'm asking you now: do you think you could use some electronic equipment?'
Ben's voice was quiet. 'You're really hurting, huh?'
Street nodded. 'The Store's killing me.' He looked from Ben to Bill. 'I'm not asking for charity, but check around your homes or your offices, see if there're any electronic items you legitimately need. I'd appreciate the business.'
'Are . . .' Bill cleared his throat. 'Do you think you can survive?'
Street shrugged, finished off the beer. 'I hope so, but who knows? At least I don't have alimony payments anymore. And at least the house is paid off.
I suppose, if worse comes to worst, I can always file for bankruptcy.' He chuckled. 'Then, after my electricity's shut off and I can't afford to buy food, I can catch squirrels and cook them in the fireplace.'
Bill didn't laugh. 'It's not that bad, is it?'
'Not yet.'
They were silent after that. Street walked back into the kitchen, got himself another can of Budweiser. 'So, gents,' he said finally, 'any plans for this evening?'
Ben looked at his watch. 'Planning Commission. Actually, the meeting starts in fifteen minutes.' He downed the rest of his beer. 'I'd better start heading over there.'
Street turned toward Bill. 'What about you?'
'Same thing.'
'What is this crap? I know why Ben goes to these things. It's his job. He has to. But you?'
'I like to know what's going on in my town.'
Street snorted. 'Since when?'
'Since I found out what an unreliable rag our friend here puts out.'
'Hey!' Ben said. 'I resent that!'
Street laughed. Too loudly.
'Why don't you come with us?'
'Pass.' Street picked up his remote, turned on the TV. 'I'm sure it'll be fascinating, but there's a one-star women's prison movie on cable. T and A wins out over civic responsibility every time.'
'They'll be discussing The Store,' Ben said.
'Yeah. That's just what I want to spend my night hearing about.'
'I heard they'll be asking for rezoning and building approval. They want to sell groceries.'
'They'll get their approval,' Street said simply. 'Fucking Planning Commission's in their fucking pocket, just like the council.'
'Maybe you should speak out against it,' Bill suggested. 'It might help.'
Street waved him away. 'I'm no public speaker. Besides, just in case you haven't noticed, I'm feeling a little too happy right now. The last thing the local merchants need is a half-crocked electronics salesman talking for them.'
He pressed the volume button on his remote. 'I'm going to watch my cable while I can still afford it.'
Ben stood, patted him on the back. 'Take it easy, then. I'll let you know what transpires. And I'll drop by the store tomorrow. The paper needs some surge protectors. Ours are getting old.'
Bill stood as well, leaving his half-finished can on the table. 'I still need to get that old turntable fixed. I'll bring it by and we can go over it.'
Street nodded gratefully. 'Thanks, guys.'
'Hey,' Ben said, 'we're friends.'
Bill grinned. 'Half my beer's left, too. It's all yours if you don't mind the drool. I backwash.'
'No problemo.' Street reached across the table, grabbed the can, swallowed its contents in one gulp.
Bill grimaced. 'You're gross.'
'Thank you.'
Outside, the night was warm. The moon was out but not yet up, hovering somewhere beneath the level of the ponderosas, its light diffused in the eastern sky. Ben had walked but Bill had driven, and neither of them spoke as they headed out to his Jeep across the loudly crunching gravel of the driveway.
'We really should try to help him out,' Ben said once they were in the vehicle.
'Yeah,' Bill agreed. 'We should.'
They drove the rest of the way in silence.
As predicted, The Store was the main topic of conversation at the meeting.
There were only two people in the audience other than themselves, and though the Planning Commission met in the council chambers, it could have just as easily convened in a small conference room.
Fred Carpenter, the commission chairman, read aloud the text of the proposal to allow The Store to construct an addition to its existing structure in order to open a grocery department. The Store's property was currently zoned only to allow the selling of nonfood items, and the land would have to be rezoned to accommodate the proposed change in usage.
The chairman finished reading the proposal. 'We will now open the subject up for discussion,' he said.
Leander Jacobs raised his hand.
'The chair recognizes Commissioner Jacobs.'
