DRUGSTORE, 1958
By Albert
Goldbarth
"Just walk right in and demand your
money back." The father makes it sound
as obvious as gravity or the seasons: the boy
has been
shortchanged, the merchant
needs to rectify this, and a heaping of manly
insistence won't hurt; he'll wait
in the car while the boy attends to this mission.
But the boy is not so sure; he's ten and
skittery as a blown leaf in the world's winds.
Maybe he counted wrong, maybe his voice will
stick then squeal, maybe fuss should be priced
higher
than a dime And how can a dime be
part of a dollar? He looks back at the car. They
aren't even made of the same material.
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