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over the device. “It’s everything you need.”

“Why, I’ll’se take it.”

“Actually, Helton, I haven’t told you the bad news yet.”

“Bad news? There ain’t no bad news. This here’s the ticket. Ring me up.”

She leaned over and whispered. “It’s $7500…”

Helton shrugged, reaching back into a ruck sack pocket. “Like

I said, missy. Ring me up.”

Veronica stared. This is too good to be true. Maybe…Mike is playing a joke. Maybe he had this guy come in here to ACT like he’s buying the most expensive camera in the store, but when she looked up front, she saw Mike and Archie, arms crossed, eyes narrowed. They’re as surprised as I am…

“Check or charge, Helton?”

“What’s that, Veronnerka… Dang, that’s a purdy name.”

“Thank you, Helton.” She smiled. “But…how are you paying?”

Helton roared laughter. “How’s I payin’? With cash money, a’course! What’cha think?”

Veronica almost fell backward when she saw Helton’s thick fingers peeling brand-new $100 bills off a stack. Oh, well. She rang up the total.

Mike’s shoes snapped as he approached. “Can I help you, sir?”

Faster than immediately, Helton frowned. “Naw, fella. Veronnerka’s helpin’ me just fine, so’s you can shuffle on back to standin’ over there doin’ not much’a nothin’.”

Mike smiled tightly. “I’m the store manager, sir, and—wow—that’s a lot of cash. On cash purchases this large, the manager’s got to ring up the sale.”

“Well, shee-it, all right.” Another frown. Then, “Hey there, son! What’choo doin’ writin’ on them there bills?”

Mike wielded the fat pen. “Big bills like this, sir? I’ve got to check each one—it’s the new government counterfeiting law.”

Helton sourly responded, “Government, huh? Shee-it. Cain’t even pay with cash money without havin’ some government goat-rope ta go along with it.”

Mike examined a bill with an amazed scrutiny. “Uh, wow, sir. These are old bills but in mint condition… 1966…” He chuckled. “Keep them in your mattress?”

Helton glared. “It’s my Maw’s money, boy”—then he stuck his big finger right in Mike’s face—“and where she keep it ain’t none’a yer business.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I was just joking.”

“Jokin’? Well, shee-it, fella. A joke’s s’posed ta be funny, ain’t that right, Veronnerka?” and then the mammoth man belted a laugh and slapped Mike hard on the back. Mike nearly went over the counter.

“It sure is, Helton,” Veronica said.

Mike coughed. “Well, sir, everything seems to be in order. Is there anything else you need today?”

“‘Sides you moseyin’ your slickster-lookin’ self out’a here…why, I don’t know.” The shaggy face tuned to Veronica. “Veronnerka, anythin’ else you reckon I need to go along with my fancy movin’- picture camera?”

Veronica felt flushed from the monumental sale. “Um, well, a tripod would be very useful—”

“We have a great assortment, sir,” Mike barged in. “Would you like me to show you—”

The finger again. “What I’d like, son, is fer you ta disser-pear so’s I can finish my business with my friend Veronnerka.” His gaze swivelled to her. “Ring me up for a tripod, missy—a good ‘un. That all?”

“You might find a carry-case convenient—”

“Ring me up. The best ya got.”

Mike slipped away, ecstatic over the sale. However, Veronica was light-headed now. This is the biggest single sale since I’ve been here! Mike’ll be so happy! Dazed, she got the tripod and the case, rang the additional sale, just as Helton peeled off more of the curiously dated bills, ( which, for those interested, were 1966 Series A notes, signed by then-secretary of the treasury Henry H. Fowler. These were the first $100 bills to bear a watermark).

“Let me help you out with some of this,” she offered.

“Naw, thanks, hon,” and then Helton easily lifted all of his purchases up under his arms. “Wouldn’t think’a lettin’ a purdy, refined gal such as yerself haul such heavy things.” He paused to look down at her. “Dang, in this bass-ackward world’a ours, meetin’ you’s like a breath’a fresh air.”

“Why…thank you, Helton.”

“You’s shorely the nicest city gal I’se ever meet, and I’se hope you have yerself a dandy Christmas.”

“You do the same, Helton,” she said, now fairly flabbergasted. “You’re a very nice person too.”

Helton turned and huffed for the door. “Ask me? What this world needs is ta be full up with Veronnerkas…”

“Need some help, sir?” Archie asked.

“Out my way, son.”

Mike piped up. “Thank you for shopping at Best Buy, sir, and have a happy holiday!”

Helton frowned and loped out of the store.

The instant the automatic doors closed, Mike raged, “Holy SHIT!”

Archie rushed over. “Veronica! The net profits from that sale’ll cover the store’s overhead for the next month and then some!”

Mike was jumping up and down as if on a springboard. “Un-fuckin’-believable! You just rang ten grand to Grizzly Adams!” He practically slid over on his shoes, then picked Veronica up and swirled her around. “What a saleswomen!”

Veronica’s joy at seeing Mike so exuberant brought tears to her eyes. When he gave her a big wet sloppy kiss right on the mouth, her heart pattered and her sex throbbed just short of instantaneous orgasm.

She hugged him desperately, whispering, “Oh, Mike, you don’t know what it means for me to see you so happy…,” and she knew, then, she knew to the very core of her spirit that Mike loved her with his whole heart…

(III)

The Winnebago rumbled toward the edge of town, its business in Pulaski done for the month. It was the beefy lieutenant Argi who drove the luxuriant vehicle, Paulie in the spacious passenger seat, and Cristo and Dr. Prouty sitting behind. In the vehicle’s rear-most compartment, of course, sat the atrocious and fiendishly rank Melda, who was now taking care of another box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls.

When Argi made a wide lefthand turn, he squeezed his crotch for no apparent reason…

“All in a day’s work,” Paulie said, seemingly pleased.

“Yeah, boss,” Cristo accentuated. “Made our monthly drop-off to the gang, got our ashes hauled by that killer-bod whore, and pulled off some dynamite vendetta.”

Argi nodded. “Case Piece wasn’t kiddin’ about his squeeze havin’ a body. Shit, the bod on that hosebag’d make St. Augustine knife-fight ya for it.”

“Gotta hand it to that superfly little punk. That chick is smokin’ hot, even with the wrinkled face. Swear to God, guys, she’s got a body even better than Marshie’s.”

“Aw, damn, speakin’ of your wife”—Argi remembered something—“don’t you want me to drop ya off at her house now that we’re done here?”

Paulie shook his head, and took a bite of a cannoli they’d picked up at a local bakery. “Naw. Forgot to tell