Sam snatched up a bottle of Fresca from a display fridge and got into Zach’s queue.
Al was standing by the entrance, shopping carts passing through his image. He took a long drag on his cigar, looking just past Sam, before his eyes popped wide open.
He stepped back, trying to make himself inconspicuous – which wasn’t exactly something his colourful outfit was made for – as Sam heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Yolanda!”
Sam turned around and gave his younger self a nervous smile. “Oh, hello.”
“Uh, I swear to God I’m not following you,” said Young Sam, holding a basket up. “I was just getting some TV dinners… see?”
Sam chuckled. “I believe you.”
“You want me to pay for that?” he asked, pointing at the soda. “It’s the least I could do after pushing you over.”
“That’s very chivalrous, Sam, but it’s fine – really.” Sam was having difficulty keeping a straight face.
Am I coming on to me?
He wondered for a moment whether his younger self was just trying to understand the weird feeling he must have been experiencing looking at him, or if he was just trying to clear his conscience. Or if he was just being guided by youthful hormones.
Sam decided it might have been all three. Which would make his former approach with Zach a little awkward in the kid’s presence, and he would have preferred not to give himself a humiliating memory upon which to ruminate.
I need to try something else.
“Next please,” said Zach from behind his register. Sam handed him the bottle.
“Hi there, Zach,” Sam said, mustering up all the confidence he could find, “I heard through the grapevine you like to make puppets.”
Zach paused, meeting Sam’s eye. “You did? Who are you?”
“Yolanda Bennett,” he said, extending a hand. “I have a proposition for you.”
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Young Sam leaning in with fascination.
Zach took his hand weakly, and Sam gave it a firm shake. “When are you on break next?”
Zach checked his watch. “Uh… half hour from now.”
“I’ll be here, okay?” Sam dropped a couple of dimes into his hand. “I promise it’ll be worthwhile.”
He took his bottle with a grin and moved towards the far wall, where he leaned against it and cracked open the soda.
Hope that worked.
He turned his head, and nearly choked on the soda when he saw Al emerge through the wall.
“Is the coast clear?”
“You should probably make sure of something like that before you walk through a wall,” Sam said, raising an eyebrow. “He’s being served now, so he could be passing this way any minute.”
Al sighed. “What a pain in the butt.”
“You could always change into something less conspicuous,” Sam said with a grin. “Assuming you own anything like that.”
Al sent him a dirty look. “Just get Junior out of the picture, would you? I’m outta here.”
Al tapped a button on the handlink, and disappeared.
A minute later, Young Sam emerged from the checkout with an armful of paper bags. He approached Sam with a curious look on his face.
“Hey, what was that about with Zach?”
Sam shrugged. “Well, I heard through a mutual friend that he’s interested in landing a job in children’s television, and I happen to want to be a children’s writer. I thought we could collaborate on a demo reel.”
Young Sam’s mouth drew into a smile. “Far out! What kind of writing?”
Sheesh, teenage me doesn’t give up, does he?
Sam reached into his handbag and pulled out his notebook of work. “Nursery rhymes, limericks, that kind of thing.”
Young Sam flipped open the book and read, his smile gradually widening.
“These’d make good songs,” he mused.
“Yeah, I thought so too,” said Sam. “But… Yolanda Bennett is no musician.”
“I am.” Young Sam looked up sheepishly. “A musician, I mean. Don’t suppose you want a third collaborator…?”
Do I? Or would that mess up my own history?
Sam sure would have liked to get Ziggy’s opinion on the matter.
Oh, what the hey. I conquered one paradox already today.
“You would really do that for a stranger you just met?”
“Sure. It’ll be a welcome distraction from my thesis. I’m seeing physics equations in my dreams; I think I could use a break.”
Sorry, Al.
“Well, alright then. Thank you, Sam.”