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And there it was. The local jamboree for anyone with morbid curiosity to the mystifying wonder hiding, patiently staking out whoever dared to seek it out, or those desperate to keep themselves from losing to the game that was capitalism. The thrift shop.
Clothes were on racks, and nobody knew what kind of patterns and colors they were going to embody, creepy dolls on the windows (...), used tote bags were on one shelf, taffy was in the middle, and all sorts of various items were strewn across the store. Surely, there’d be a gift around here, and even if there wasn’t, he’d probably end up buying something anyway. Based on the noise level, there wasn’t anyone else here except the worker. That was nice. Being alone. With his thoughts. His…odd, to say the least, thoughts.
“Welcome in!” the clerk behind the counter greeted him.
“Hey,” Kevin smiled at them. It was small and tired, but it was a smile nonetheless.
And he was off to the races, searching for the thing to win Streber’s heart spare time. It had to be perfect. It had to reflect that man’s chaotic nature. It had to be a delicate balance between sweet and crazy. It had to be something that he was certain would be something Streber would like. What did that man like anyway?
- Funky t-shirts, pants, or hoodies from any time period.
- Plushies of any kind-bonus points if they were rat plushies, or if they were ripped up
- Vintage photos.
- Microscopes. Why he needed 100 was a question nobody knew the answer to.
- Rubix Cubes, he could logic and buzz through all of them, no matter how ridiculous their patterns were.
- Screwdrivers. Probably the weirdest thing on this list, but it was true. Kevin asked once, and Streber responded that he ‘liked the history’?.
That man was a total nerd, and Kevin loved liked it.
Anyway, he meticulously searched the first clothing rack his eye caught onto, rummaging for anything remotely Streber-like. Unfortunately, none of the shirts or hoodies had any sign of prints, not even the most mundane. Shoot, he chose the wrong rack. Oh well.
The door creaked, and the clerk greeted some more people. Cool.
The next rack he checked was…also plain?! Nothing weird or ‘punk-y’ or something?! Damn, he might’ve caught them on a boring day. There were still more racks to check though, so he was bound to find something. And if he didn’t, he still had options. He’d be ok.
….Oh, he was hearing the other customers now.
“I’m not about to chew what looks like bandages,” a female voice was saying. “Don’t tell me it’s just gum, because nobody in their sane mind would make something like that!”
“Oh c’mon!” an all too familiar voice rang out. “They taste fine!”
“No.”
…Oh shoot-
It was the pumpkin child. And who sounded like his sister? Whatever. Ok, all Kevin had to do was stay discreet and avoid the two of them, and hopefully they’d leave him to his business.
Deciding to stray from the clothes for a second, maybe he’d find better luck in the back of the store, with an array of an assortment of objects, dusting on the shelves, waiting to find a new home. Maybe there'd be a rat plushie, Streber’s favorite animal. It was kind of jarring when Kevin found out considering how much Streber cooed Mia and seemed at ease around her. He adored cats in general as well. Oh well, some things would remain a mystery.
There were leather bags of some amazing artwork. Both bright and muted colors popped off of brown and black backgrounds, depicting the frantic rolling of dice during a gambling game, the quietness of the wind blowing on a rooftop, the ecstasy and paranoia of swinging a weapon, a field of sunflowers under a purple sky. Streber already joked about having enough tote bags though, so Kevin didn’t bother, instead opting to rummage through them for anything else keeping hidden through the safety.
…Nothing? Disappointing, but expected, Kevin guessed. That was also how he thought about his life sometimes, but that wasn’t important. Right now, there was only one important thought: Find something for his friend/crush.
Heading to the right of the store, the dust was starting to catch up to him, and he coughed a bit. Nothing too major, just general specks of fatality.
And then he saw it. He was wandering some isle, and something caught his eye.
Up ahead was a discarded rat plushie.
Jackpot!
Kevin briskly walked forward, to get a better look at the thing.
Someone had lovingly stitched together an imperfectly perfect freaky mess. The thing had one eye and foot, and the button eye replacement stitching was done with messy yellow thread, not bothering to hide it. The smile of the rat was too long and wide with no tongue but teeth seemingly painted on weirdly enough. Nice, something simple and sweet and cheap!
“Yes!” he muttered to himself, and only himself.
“Hi Kevin!”
Kevin whipped around making an ‘mmph’ noise, startled. Sure enough, the kid in the pumpkin mask was talking to him. Well s***. This wasn’t ideal, his dreams couldn’t prepare him for this…
“Um…hi, kid!” his voice cracked on instinct
Frantically looking around, it was just him, Pump, presumably whoever he was with earlier (Susie?), and the worker. Ok. Minimal chance of anything weird happening. Cool. Coolcoolcool.
“Hi Kevin! Um…do you like rats?” Pump asked.
“...No,” Kevin truthfully said.
“Oh. Then why are you buying one?”
…What a…normal question.
“For a…friend.”
“Who’s your friend?”
“Um…do you want his name, or…?”
“Sure!”
Kevin wasn’t sure what to do. He could share this part of his life with Pump of all people and feel awkward about it. Seriously, why was Pump interested…at all? He only knew him as the candy clerk who’s always around, right? Because that’s the only time he’d seen him, barring last night. And even then, he’d been coming out of work.
Honestly, at least Kevin could admit that all he knew about Pump was that he had a sister and that he was friends with Skid. Heck, it was odd seeing him separate, a reminder they were two separate units. Even then, he wasn’t trying to forge connections with them. There was absolutely no reason he’d try now, no reason to try to play the ‘get to know you’ game now. It’d overcomplicate things. It’d overcomplicate every emotion he felt towards the two of them.
…Then again, Pump was staring with curious eyes, head cocked to one side, seemingly unmoving.
“...His name’s Streber,” Kevin sighed. “He’s a friend of mine. We’ve known each other for a while, and we’ve grown close. I just felt like buying him something.”
There. Not too much. Enough to satisfy Pump’s curiosity.
“How’d you become friends?”
Or so he thought.
“...Um..I don’t think I can tell you that story,” Kevin brushed off the question. “It’s not really…appropriate for someone your age, y’know?”
“Oh. Ok.”
Ok, now the pumpkin child was going to leave-
“Y’know, me and Skid met through our parents when he was four and I was three. They were friends too.”
…Ok then?
“...Ok?”
‘Me and him have been friends for a while now.”
“...Why are you telling me this?”
“Because you’re our friend,” Pump shrugged.
…He didn’t mean that. He meant, ‘you’re an acquaintance that we see around, and because we’re kids, we automatically assume that you’re a friend of ours, even though we’re going to come around later and realize you were simply an acquaintance.’ He and Skid had been saying it for a while, around all the time they’d known him, but they’d come around later.
“Uh…what’s with the look?”
“...No reason,” Kevin tried to smile, putting away the skeptical face.
“Ok.”
“Why are you here?” Kevin changed the subject.
“Oh! Me and Susie are looking for something for our parents!”
…Huh. That was sweet.
“That’s nice.”
“Mhm! They’re coming home for two weeks, and we have until tomorrow to figure it out.”
…That didn’t seem like a lot of time…
“Two…weeks?”
“Yeah. They travel for business, so they move around. We don’t really see them around. And they don’t want us getting too comfortable with moving, or missing out on school, so we don’t come with them.”
…Oh. That was…an unfortunate situation for everyone involved.
“...So, what are you going to get for them?” Kevin asked, kind of nervous.
“We…don’t know,” Pump sighed, disappointed. “I love them, but I barely know them.”
…Kevin’s heart might’ve broken.
Ok, sure, he didn’t necessarily like Pump, but no kid deserved to go through that. Parents were supposed to be a kid’s first option whenever they were scared or sad. Kids were supposed to have a close bond with them. And…he didn’t. And…there were memories that he wasn’t making with them. But of course, this was something Pump had to work through, this was something Pump’s sister would have to work through, this didn’t seem like something that was going to change…nevertheless, even if Pump and his sister needed a support system, he shouldn’t be a part of it, he was already too involved in these kids’ lives, it didn’t need to be personal, it didn’t! Yeah, this was something that he couldn’t help with-…
…But well…he was here. He was standing in front of Pump. Pump had gone out of his way to talk to him. Pump was looking for a gift. They were in a thrift shop. He was the adult here…
Kevin kneeled down and tentatively put his hand on Pump’s shoulder. Pump looked a little perplexed at the touch, but didn’t…mind it. Ok. Whatever.
“Hey, um…I can help you and your sister find something,” Kevin offered, words stilted and awkward. “There were some really nice leather bags back there, if your parents would be interested in that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Even if not, I’m sure we’ll find something.”
“Thank you Kevin!” Pump smiled. It wasn’t his normal, jovial smile, it was…softer. Pump giggled a little bit. Kevin…sighed. Stood up, holding onto Pump’s hand.
Pump in one hand, rat plush for Streber in the other, they headed to the section of the crafted leather bags. Pump examined them, eyes sparkly.
“These look really nice. I think my mom would like…um…um…they all look-”
“She’d like the one with the sunflowers on it!” a feminine voice snapped. Behind Kevin was a teenage girl, brown hair neatly in a ponytail, wearing a pink shirt. She was holding a thick book.
“Hey sis!” Pump smiled, climbing the stool and taking the bag his sister suggested off the hook. “You found something for dad?”
“Les Misérables,” Susie specified. “Also, what are you doing with a stranger?! We’ve been over this!”
“Kevin’s not a stranger,” Pump countered.
“I’m just someone he knows,” Kevin stated, upon seeing Susie’s raised eyebrows. “I work at the Candy Club if that helps.”
“Oh! Really?!”
“I know that look. Don’t try to get free candy.”
“Dangit,” Susie muttered.
“Teenagers,” Kevin muttered under his breath. “All insane.”
“What was that?!”
“Nothing.”
“Um…we can go now,” Pump suggested to his sister. “Bye Kevin!”
“We all still have to pay.”
“Oh, yeah.”
So the three of them, items in hand, headed to the counter, Pump’s tiny, freckled hand still in Kevin’s soft, fleshy one. He didn’t know what was prompting him to squeeze it, empathy for his situation or panic over what could happen. Maybe both.
“So, are you three paying together?” the cashier asked.
“We have our own money,” Susie declared, pulling out her wallet.
“Of course. That’s $12.34”
Susie paid, and she dragged Pump out of the store with her. Pump waved Kevin goodbye, and Kevin awkwardly put up his hand before dropping it down again.
“Ok, so those weren’t your kids,” the blue haired woman chuckled.
“...Wh-what?”
“I just assumed they were yours.”
“N-no!” Kevin covered his face with his hands. “I just happened to know the younger kid. A-anyway, how much for the plush?”
“$3.49.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, paying, still feeling how red his face was.
Oh well, at least he got what he wanted for Streber. The plush was perfectly fitting in his hand, every bump showing the skills of the creator. It’d be for Streber’s appreciation.
Heading out of the shop satisfied, he started the four block journey back to his apartment. Only twenty minutes had passed since he started from his apartment, and the weather was still the same. It was projected to be the same anyway.