Bruises Don't Come That Quick

The squeaking from a passing trolley brought Stephen out of a
daydream. A row of neatly stacked boxes of tea faced him. He was in the
supermarket, now in the eighteenth month of his 'temporary' job. The
same packets of food stared at him from the trolley, demanding to join
the rest but Stephen was sure he had refilled that shelf yesterday. Or
was it Friday? The time he had spent here was unclear in his mind.
Maybe the constant cleaning he did was affecting his memory, blurring
it round the edges, causing the days to roll one into the other until
it was impossible to distinguish between them. He spent all day here
stacking and cleaning until the tendons in his arm stretched so much
that Stephen wondered why they did not snap. And then there was his
back.

An intense looking woman broke his familiar grumbles. A little girl
with blonde pigtails was standing nearby. Not beside her: she seemed
hesitant to stand too close.
"I'm looking for the hair-dye. Where-"
Stephen cut the woman off, "Aisle three, on the right", and then
trudged towards the scattered trolleys. The boss had been looking
pointedly at them for over an hour.

The tannoy crackled into action.
"Would a Miss Chloe Wilson please come to the customer services desk
where her mother is waiting."
Irritation gnawed at Stephen's insides as he thought of yet another
obstinate child escaped from their parents and sitting throwing sweets
from their predictable hiding place. A rare feeling of purpose came to
Stephen as he marched through the supermarket. Aisle 20 loomed. Empty.
Peering down he cautiously made his way along step by step. Nearing the
middle of the aisle, he heard a rustle from behind. Still crouched
over, he retraced his footsteps. Behind a powder pink Kleenex multipack
he heard a sharp intake of breath before it was quickly checked. He
slid the pack to the left and saw the little girl from earlier scuttle
backwards, clasping her knees to her chest with thin, shaking arms. Her
dress slid, revealing a bruise enveloping her thigh. Sludgy browns
mixed with decaying green and a dark purple that matched her velour
dress. Stephen stared, unable to look away while the girl went through
a silent struggle to pull her dress down. She wouldn't meet his
gaze.
"Chloe? How d'you get that bruise Chloe? It looks really sore."
Sympathy had curbed his anger. He could see her hands fluttering over
her dress. She gave no response.
"You okay?"
Still no answer.
Maybe she'd just fallen and she's still upset.
"Why don't we go find your mum eh?"
Her hands began to shake but she still did not say anything. He reached
in to her but before he even touched her she was poised to run. The
movement was so quick it was almost unnoticeable. Her large eyes shot
fearful glances up at him but she never made a sound. She remained
totally still with her eyes locked on to his reproachfully. There
seemed to be a meaning behind her gaze, as if she was desperately
trying to communicate something to Stephen. He swayed from one foot to
the other, unsure whether to leave or stay.
"She needs her mum" he resolved and began to lead the way to the desk.
She followed submissively. Something caught his sleeve and he heard a
soft voice. He looked down and saw Chloe tugging his sleeve.
"I'm scared." Stephen crouched down to meet her at eye level.
"Why?"
"Mummy will be angry."
He smiled. "Don't worry. It'll be all right."

* * * *

"Bruises don't come that quick, stupid."

Stephen and Sam had been fighting amongst the tall nets of peas that
grew in Sam's back garden. Sam had stolen Stephen's biggest pod, burst
the seams and quickly stuffed all the lovely raw peas down his mouth,
right down to the tiny, perfectly green ones at the ends. Stephen had
thrown a punch right into Sam's stomach sending him to the ground where
they wrestled with broken stalks caught in their hair. They soon called
a truce and lay back looking at the plants tower above them and even
farther to the blue sky wisped with clouds. Stephen leaned over Sam and
saw that his top had been pushed up during their tussle. He pointed at
his stomach.
"Look at that bruise! Nice one. I thought that was a good punch. Does
it hurt? Does it?"
"When I touch it. But it wasn't you." Sam replied with scorn etched on
his face. "And anyway, bruises don't come that quick, stupid."
"Yeah, well who was it then?"
"SAAAAM!"
The shriek sent two blackbirds squawking away from their perch on the
telephone line.
"Sssh. Stephen, don't move"
Stephen looked at Sam rigid on the ground. His eyes were screwed shut
and his frowning forehead looked wet.
"Is that your mum? Sam, what's the matter with you?"
"I don't want her to find me"
"Why not? We'll have to go soon or we'll miss tea." Stephen was
picturing platefuls of mashed potatoes and was already shaping them
into castles, lining the moat round the base.
"Not now" Sam squeezed out through gritted teeth.
They heard rustles and Stephen crept up to look above the plants.
"Who is it? Quick Stephen, who is it? Stephen!"
A large figure loomed over them, swallowing the sun.
"Sam, what have you been doing? Look at the mess!" His mum jerked Sam
towards her by his arm and gave him a sharp slap across the head.
Stephen stood by, watching her with wide, disbelieving eyes. Sam
started to whimper.
"Right, inside now." She hauled him indoors by the ear. Stephen was
left alone in the garden.

* * * *

In the supermarket Stephen stayed for the reunion. Chloe's mother
smiled as they approached. She attempted to embrace her but Chloe
dodged out of reach. Her mother's eyes flashed but she retained her
smile.
"Come on Chloe. Let's go."
Her mother turned and stalked away. Chloe stayed for a moment before
scurrying after her mother marching down the aisle.

Stephen saw Chloe again that day. Three thirty and the store was filled
with irritable mothers doing a last minute shop before collecting their
children from school. He sat by the till at the front of the store and
gazed through the wall-sized windows. He had found a gap between "1/2
price frozen thick sausages!" and "Tinned baby button mushrooms only
14p - max 3 per customer". Car headlights illuminated the heavy mists
of rain falling from the unchanging grey sky. He saw her across the
road. Her mother strode ahead with a smart black umbrella shielding her
and dragged Chloe by the hand. She stumbled along behind, scuffing her
feet along the ground. Stephen looked away.