He sat comfy in his air-conditioned cop car watching for sweaty citizens he could make sweat extra. This occurred at the Willis and Oates grocery store on the near side of town, and the lot that stretched wide had the color of oil. Quite a number of vehicles parked there, a big percentage belonging to folks at a wedding in the church across the street. “We” entailed Bev and me and Jamalee, and we came after some special smoked bacon for Jason’s favorite meal. It apparently involved noodles and garlic and sprinkle cheese as accomplices, but wasn’t all it could be without that special bacon as ringleader. This store was the store that carried it. We got out and stood on that dark lot, and you could feel the hot pavement through the soles of your boots. All three of us made weary sounds. The mean part of July had bumrushed town early, in the final week of May, and was souring plans everywhere it went. I’ve known Easters that were close on to one hundred degrees, so you can’t predict the weather too fine in this part of the map.
