"I need a pair of sneakers."
The man glanced at Aurora, then back at Adam.
"Then you should have gone to a shoe shop," the man said grumpily.
"Someone said I could find the sneakers I'm looking for here."
"Well, they're wrong. I don't got no shoes for you types."
"Come on! I know you have sneakers; I just want to see them."
"Adam," his mother warned softly.
"That's right, you rich folk like to throw your weight around, and the rest of us are supposed to fall in line. Not today. Get out of my store!"
Aurora gripped Adam's shoulder. When he turned to her, he saw her leaning forward slightly. Looking her over, he found that her hand was trembling and she was taking quick, shallow breaths.
"Mom?!" He grabbed her hand.
The sound of heavy feet running down the hall got closer, and then Michael burst through the doorway. He took one look at Adam and Aurora before turning around and heading for the back wall of the hall. Michael pried two bolts from their slots and kicked open a big metal door.
Cool air flooded the hall, some of it trickling through the doorway. A moment later, Michael escorted Aurora to a chair he'd placed in front of the doorway.
I'm sorry, Mrs. Jordahl. I'd forgotten they don't open the back gate during the week." Michael apologised.
He looked panicked, like he'd committed a wicked crime. Aurora shook her head in disagreement.
"I walked in knowing it would affect me."
Adam ran over to the vending machine on the other side of the hall. He bought a bottle of water and hurried back to his mother's side.
"Michael? You know these people?" The man asked from his doorway.
Aurora gripped Michael's arm. "He refused to show Adam any shoes," she whispered.
"Jerry! I brought them here because they're looking for sneakers, and you're always griping about not being able to sell a pair. Why won't you help them?" He asked angrily, approaching the other man.
"They should have said that instead of acting like some asses."
Adam glared at the elder man. Before he could retaliate, Aurora swept her hand along his face and lifted his chin. She shook her head when their eyes met.
Michael and Jerry argued as they walked back into the store. Adam handed Aurora the water, but rather than drink it, she held the bottle in her hand.
"Why won't you drink it?"
"I don't have a cup or straw. I'll drink it once we get back to the car."
"You don't need those to drink it." Adam said, confusion plastered on his face.
"It's unladylike to head a bottle."
Adam's jaw dropped. "You're sick!" he yelled at her. "Who cares if it's ladylike or not? You need to drink."
Aurora smiled weakly at him. "Go look at the shoes with Michael. I'll be fine."
Adam stared at his mother in disbelief. She was going to sit there and be sick.
"Do as you're told," she said sternly.
"You have a cup in your hand."
Aurora looked down at her hands, amused, and opened them to show nothing but the water.
"Open the bottle; you'll see it."
Aurora unscrewed the bottle but still didn't see the cup Adam referred to.
"It's in your hand."
"I've got a bottle and its cap."
"You have a bottle and a mini cup."
"I'm to take shots of water?" She asked, utterly surprised.
"I doubt you'd drink from any cups these people have to offer. I'm not moving until you take at least five drinks."
"Who's the parent, and who's the child?"
"You lose authority when you're ill."
"We'd be out of here the sooner you looked at the shoes."
"Drink." He ordered.
Aurora carefully poured her cups of water and drank them. By the fourth, Michael had called for Adam.
"Can you watch her drink the water?" He said walking past Michael and back into the store.
"Sure."
There were four pairs of sneakers on the counter when Adam returned. They were all the same size, but different styles and colours. Second from the left was a black sneaker with thin blue wave patterns, which caught Adam's eye. He tried it on. Though it was a little roomy at the front, it fit.
"I'll take this one."
Jerry sighed loudly and tapped his finger on the counter in annoyance.
"Let go of the shoe, Jerry." Michael said from the doorway.
Jerry waved his hand in further annoyance, his face contorting into a mean scowl. "Take it," he said, walking back to his work area.
"How much is it?" Adam called after him. But the old man didn't answer.
"He didn't take any money," Adam said to Michael upon leaving the shop.
"He won't for that pair. It's fine; just take it."
Now that he had a new pair of sneakers, their errands were over.
ns 15.158.61.48da2
