Moving Forward

Shopping (2)

Max rolled out of the pallet of blankets he'd made on the floor - the bed made him feel like he was falling - and climbed to his unsteady feet, yawning wide enough to catch flies. He spent long moments stretching out his tired body and then scratched the nape of his neck.

It didn't take him much longer to make his way downstairs to the kitchen cupboards and, as his stomach growled, he discovered they were bare. As was the fridge, much to his annoyance. It shouldn't have been that surprising. Since he'd arrived, all he'd done was weed the driveway and repaint the porch, living off cereal and a few tins of beans. It was barely near enough food to keep his hunger growls at bay, but he'd been more focused on his tasks - focused enough to completely forget his stomach.

But now, there was no avoiding it. He had to get out of the house and restock the fridge.

His truck purred once he'd started the engine, dressed simply in a pair of dark jeans and a grey hoodie. Joggers would've been enough, but he didn't want to look like a complete slob on his first outing into the town. According to the map, Max's house was on the outskirts, which was why he'd chosen to drive. It wasn't as if he could just pull a trolley along for the forty minute walk either, even if the sound of the tires kicking up the occasional pebble made him wince.

It didn't take him long to figure out where the supermarket was. The town was organised, to say the least. The post office and town hall were in the middle, with a dirt car park at the back and surrounded by the main road, which was surprisingly empty. On the other side of the road were the smaller businesses - the library, a few clothing shops, one or two bars, a motel on one corner, the supermarket, and a few others that Max probably wouldn't recognise without looking in. They all seemed to just share the parking lot behind the town hall, too, which didn't even raise an eyebrow. Why have your own parking lot when there was one perfectly situated? Plus, there probably weren't that many people in need of it in the first place. Most of the buildings looked to be two stories, so there were probably people living above the shops.

Max liked it. Although, at the moment, it did have that barren ghost town feel to it, that was likely because it was eight on a Sunday morning and almost nobody would need to be up at this time. He was kind of wishing that he'd stayed in bed a little longer. Oh well, if there was no one at the till, he'd make a list of what he had and pay for it. Hopefully, they wouldn't mind.

Inside the supermarket - and it was a supermarket, despite how small the town was - there were a few people milling around, but they were mostly the older crowd who appeared happy enough to spend their time chatting with everyone they came across. Including Max, actually.

"Oh dear, no," one older lady commented as he picked up a slab of steak. "That brand will leave you picking beef from out your teeth for days."

Max hummed and put it back, willing to let the lady assist. "What do you recommend?"

She smiled warmly, lines appearing on her tanned face. With wrinkling fingers, she picked up three packets of different kinds and handed them to him. "Here, try these. They're all as good as each other in my opinion, but Graham says they're not the same at all."

As Max continued walking, he found others giving him random bits and bobs of what was good and what was downright disappointing. Small town hospitality, he guessed.

In the junk food isle, he came across a woman tugging along a child that looked to be about nine. "Come on, Fin, you can't have everything. You'll get sick." She grunted.

Fin looked at her mutinously and then ran ahead, not taking care of where he was looking, only to run into Max. Of course, Max had seen it coming, and rather than move out of the way of the child, which would no doubt bring the mother's wrath down on him, he steadied the boy before he could fall.

Big startlingly blue eyes started up at Max from a chubby face with big cheeks. Immediately, he ran back to his mother.

"I'm sorry, he gets a bit excited sometimes, I'm Amelia."

Amelia appeared to be in her late-thirties with the same blue eyes as her son and dark brown hair that was in a neat bun atop her head. Her long floral skirt and pale pink top did nothing to hide that she wasn't exactly in the best of shape, but Max supposed he had no right to judge: the woman could be whatever shape she wanted to be. Like River, Amelia also had an odd scent, slightly different, but again, not unpleasant.

"I suppose he takes 'don't talk to strangers' quite seriously." Max offered on seeing that Amelia was still waiting for a reply.

She chuckled and nodded, lightly holding Fin's hand, who seemed to be gripping hers tightly. "Probably because we don't get many down here. What might your name be?"

"Max Waters," he said. "I just moved in a few days days ago."

"Mommy," Fin called, "why does he speak funny?" Of course, the words were all slurred with the incoherence of a ten-year-old with his thumb in his mouth.

"Take your thumb out your mouth." She admonished gently and then glanced up Max. "You're from England, aren't you?"

Max nodded. "Yeah, but I was in New York a few months ago."

"What made you move to the middle o' nowhere Evergree?"

Had she just missed the 'n' in 'evergreen' or was that the actually name of the town? Max had thought that the name was 'Evergreen', but that was probably because he hadn't looked too closely, just copied the post code into the SAT NAV and left. Of course, he wouldn't ever mention any of that to Amelia.

"Bad breakup, needed a change of scenery." Max answered, voice as soft as it always was.

"Well," Amelia didn't try to comfort him in the slightest, which might've actually comforted him more. "Welcome to Evergree."

Max thanked her, dumped more than a few packets of crisps into his trolley, and made for the checkout. The employee was a young lady, early-twenties probably, who looked tired, and bored, and so done with this. Until Max walked up.

"Well, howdy," she muttered to herself once she noticed him. When he got within human hearing range, though, she was strictly friendly. "That's a whole lotta meat you got there." She chuckled.

Max shrugged. Was there any point in coming up with an excuse? It wasn't as if she'd shove a finger in his face and shout 'NOT HUMAN!' at the top of her lungs. At the most, she'd probably pass him off as weird.

"A guy's got ta feed himself, I guess," she muttered, "though I gotta say, it honestly looks like you're preparing to feed an army."

"If my intestines count as soldiers, then I guess." Max replied.

After helping him bag his groceries, the girl allowed him to get away and Max gratefully loaded his shopping into his truck, happy to leave the neighbourly conversations alone.