The bell jingled as the front door of Lytell's General Store opened and closed. Mr. Lytell popped out of his back room, his pale eyes squinting over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses. He grimaced sourly as Trixie Belden made a beeline for the cold-drink cooler.
"I suppose you're here to make sure I still have some of your strawberry pop in stock," Lytell harrumphed in his grumpiest voice. *
Trixie's face turned beet red, but she refused to take the bait. If Mr. Lytell was trying to pick a fight, she was going to take the high ground and prove that she was the more mature person. Silently, she pulled out one of the remaining cans and went to the counter. Following Honey's advice, she smiled pleasantly. "Thank you, Mr. Lytell. I really appreciate having a nice store so close to home on these hot days."
Trixie had the satisfaction of seeing a look of surprise on Lytell's face as she hastily paid and scurried out the door. She placed the ice-cold can on her burning face. "Why does he always have to be so mean," she whispered to herself. "I don't care what Honey says, I'll never be able to make that man happy. He was probably born with a sour personality." Shrugging, she hopped on her bike and peddled home.
Unbeknownst to Trixie, Earl Lytell was suffering pangs of conscience. He shuffled to his back room, pausing to straighten the old photograph hanging over his desk. Carefully, he brushed away the dust accumulating at the bottom of the frame, revealing the year—1943.
"I suppose you're here to make sure I still have some of your strawberry pop in stock," Lytell harrumphed in his grumpiest voice. *
Trixie's face turned beet red, but she refused to take the bait. If Mr. Lytell was trying to pick a fight, she was going to take the high ground and prove that she was the more mature person. Silently, she pulled out one of the remaining cans and went to the counter. Following Honey's advice, she smiled pleasantly. "Thank you, Mr. Lytell. I really appreciate having a nice store so close to home on these hot days."
Trixie had the satisfaction of seeing a look of surprise on Lytell's face as she hastily paid and scurried out the door. She placed the ice-cold can on her burning face. "Why does he always have to be so mean," she whispered to herself. "I don't care what Honey says, I'll never be able to make that man happy. He was probably born with a sour personality." Shrugging, she hopped on her bike and peddled home.
Unbeknownst to Trixie, Earl Lytell was suffering pangs of conscience. He shuffled to his back room, pausing to straighten the old photograph hanging over his desk. Carefully, he brushed away the dust accumulating at the bottom of the frame, revealing the year—1943.
Earl stood, lost in thought, remembering when that picture had been taken. He had been all of seven, and was thrilled that a professional photographer was coming out. The picture was going to be featured on a wall giveaway calendar; something his father hoped would become an annual tradition. Business had been doing well despite the war rationing. The gas pumps in front of the store might look a little run down, but at least they'd always had gas on hand. Once the war had ended, his father had made great plans to improve the store—painting, expansion, maybe even a soda fountain.
The day of the photo shoot, the photographer had kept shooing him away. Well, him and his older brother, Erwin. Earl smiled sadly as he sat down at the desk. Every time that harum-scarum Trixie Belden came in and asked for a strawberry pop, he couldn't help but remember Erwin. His brother loved to go into town and ask for a strawberry soda from the soda jerk. The two of them would walk or bicycle into town as often as their chores would allow.
A tear trickled slowly down Earl's wrinkled face. "Oh, Erwin," he said softly, looking around the dusty office. "This should have been yours, not mine. Lord knows I never wanted it. You and Dad had so many plans, and now look at what I've done to the place. Thank God you're not here to see this. I've tried my best, but you know I wasn't prepared to run the business."
The day of the photo shoot, the photographer had kept shooing him away. Well, him and his older brother, Erwin. Earl smiled sadly as he sat down at the desk. Every time that harum-scarum Trixie Belden came in and asked for a strawberry pop, he couldn't help but remember Erwin. His brother loved to go into town and ask for a strawberry soda from the soda jerk. The two of them would walk or bicycle into town as often as their chores would allow.
A tear trickled slowly down Earl's wrinkled face. "Oh, Erwin," he said softly, looking around the dusty office. "This should have been yours, not mine. Lord knows I never wanted it. You and Dad had so many plans, and now look at what I've done to the place. Thank God you're not here to see this. I've tried my best, but you know I wasn't prepared to run the business."
When I Was Seventeen – July 1953
Earl Lytell's car squealed around the corner, the left side of his old Ford almost lifting off the road, as he roared past the Beldens on the way to his house. He grinned and waved as he passed his neighbors walking along the side of the road. They needn't look so shocked; it was hardly the first time he drove like a maniac.
Approaching home, Earl quickly stubbed out his Marlboro and flicked it out the window. Mom most definitely did not approve of cigarettes. What you don't know can't hurt you, he thought and laughed out loud. Old people are so clueless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Earl noticed the store sign was flipped to Sorry, We're Closed. "What the heck? Pops never closes this early." A niggling fear started to worm its way into Earl's thoughts. The last time the store closed early was V-J Day back in 1945. His dad was more reliable than the U.S. Mail.
The seconds seemed to crawl by as Earl drove the last few feet to home. His worst fear was realized when he saw the number of cars by the house and the open front door. He parked his car, got out, and slowly went in the house.
Mrs. Lytell was sitting on the living room sofa, sobbing into her handkerchief, surrounded by her neighborhood friends. Mr. Lytell stood off to the side, his hands clasped by Reverend Mitchell, as they spoke quietly.
Part of their conversation reached him. Erwin wouldn't be coming home from Korea to take over the family business after all, Earl realized numbly as he stood under the arched doorway. Even though the Armistice Agreement had been signed just one week earlier, the body of Corporal Erwin James Lytell had not been discovered until three days later.
And just like that, Earl Lytell saw his all of his plans for the future crumble around him.
Approaching home, Earl quickly stubbed out his Marlboro and flicked it out the window. Mom most definitely did not approve of cigarettes. What you don't know can't hurt you, he thought and laughed out loud. Old people are so clueless.
Out of the corner of his eye, Earl noticed the store sign was flipped to Sorry, We're Closed. "What the heck? Pops never closes this early." A niggling fear started to worm its way into Earl's thoughts. The last time the store closed early was V-J Day back in 1945. His dad was more reliable than the U.S. Mail.
The seconds seemed to crawl by as Earl drove the last few feet to home. His worst fear was realized when he saw the number of cars by the house and the open front door. He parked his car, got out, and slowly went in the house.
Mrs. Lytell was sitting on the living room sofa, sobbing into her handkerchief, surrounded by her neighborhood friends. Mr. Lytell stood off to the side, his hands clasped by Reverend Mitchell, as they spoke quietly.
Part of their conversation reached him. Erwin wouldn't be coming home from Korea to take over the family business after all, Earl realized numbly as he stood under the arched doorway. Even though the Armistice Agreement had been signed just one week earlier, the body of Corporal Erwin James Lytell had not been discovered until three days later.
And just like that, Earl Lytell saw his all of his plans for the future crumble around him.
Author's note: I apologize for leaving everyone hanging like this at the end. When I originally signed up for the Jixanny project I hadn't intended for my offering to be so short. Naturally, real life got in the way. I caught the cold that had been making the rounds and wreaking havoc. It lasted a good three weeks and knocked me down and out. When I finally started recovering and getting my energy back, my job interfered. I had some really great ideas and simply ran out of time. I figured it was better to get this much out there, than nothing at all.
