The Sound of Life and Everything by Krista Van Dolzer Page A

few racks dotted the floor, but they were as spread out as trees in the Mojave, and the shelves on the back wall made me think of Mother Hubbard’s cupboard. This wasn’t a department store so much as a last resting place for ugly and unwanted goods. I was about to turn around when I spotted Chester.
    â€œMrs. Higbee!” Chester said. “What brings you to our fine establishment?”
    I scrunched up my nose. “I thought you worked at the drugstore.”
    â€œStill do,” Chester said with his signature smile. “But Mrs. Leavitt lets me work a few shifts here and there during the busy season.”
    â€œThis is busy?” I replied.
    It wasn’t until his smile faltered that I understood. Chester had always seemed like a grown-up to me—he’d been running the soda fountain for as long as I could remember—but he was only Gracie’s age (or maybe a few years older). Mama said that Chester worked because the war had killed his daddy and his family needed him to help, but it had never crossed my mind that he might need to work
two
jobs.
    â€œSo what can I do for you?” he asked. “I’m afraid we’re out of ice cream, but we have a few leftover Easter dresses . . .”
    He trailed off when he realized me and Mama weren’t alone. As he looked Takuma up and down, his mouth wobbled back and forth between a smile and a frown.
    â€œThis is Takuma,” Mama said before the silence could get awkward (or
more
awkward, anyway). “Takuma, this is Chester.”
    Takuma didn’t bow, and Chester didn’t offer to shake hands.
    â€œHe needs a new shirt,” she continued as if she hadn’t noticed. “And since we’re here, we should pick up some pants and underwear.”
    At least that snapped Chester out of it. “Underwear,” he mumbled, glancing furtively over his shoulder. Without another word, he retreated to the flimsy curtain marked EMPLOYEES ONLY .
    Disappointment curdled in my stomach like a cup of spoiled milk. I’d always liked Chester. He’d always seemed different. Apparently, though, he wasn’t as different as I’d thought.
    While I watched Chester backpedal, Takuma just stared at the spot where Chester had been standing, eyes down, shoulders hunched, like he was carrying a heavy load. He might not have followed the conversation, but he knew a retreat when he saw one.
    I wanted to pat his back and tell him things would be okay, but I couldn’t decide if it was more of a truth or a lie, and lying to myself wasn’t something I was keen to do. I was still trying to decide when Mrs. Leavitt scurried out from behind the old curtain.
    â€œAnna!” she said delightedly. “How wonderful to see you.”
    Mama sniffed. “You saw me yesterday.”
    She patted Mama’s arm. “Oh, Anna, you never let me get away with anything!”
    â€œWere you trying to get away with something?” Mama asked.
    Instead of answering, she cleared her throat. “Chester said you’d like to buy a shirt?”
    At the sound of his name, Chester pushed the curtain back, though he didn’t leave the relative safety of the archway. I tried to catch his eye so I could glare at him properly, but he kept his gaze glued to the floor.
    Mrs. Leavitt clucked her tongue. “I’m afraid we just sold our last one.”
    Mama motioned toward a nearby rack, which was drooping beneath the weight of several dozen ugly shirts. “Well, then, what about those?”
    â€œOh, you wouldn’t want one of those,” she said. “They’re awfully out of season.”
    The shirts looked just fine from here, but Mama didn’t fight her, just made a beeline for the pleated pants that were hanging on another rack. “Well, then, we’ll just buy these and order another of those shirts you mentioned.” She checked the waist size on the nearest pair. “I think