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I
pushed
the
door
open
myself
and
noticed
the
lack
of
air
conditioning
first
thing
.
Usually
in
the
summer
they
have
it
cranked
up
high
enough
to
give
you
frostbite
if
you
stay
in
the
market
more
than
an
hour
at
a
stretch
.
Like
most
modern
markets
,
the
Federal
was
constructed
like
a
Skinner
box-modern
marketing
techniques
turn
all
customers
into
white
rats
.
The
stuff
you
really
needed
,
staples
,
like
bread
,
milk
,
meat
,
beer
,
and
frozen
dinners
,
was
all
on
the
far
side
of
the
store
.
To
get
there
you
had
to
walk
past
all
the
impulse
items
known
to
modern
man-everything
from
Cricket
lighters
to
rubber
dog
bones
.
Beyond
the
IN
door
is
the
fruit-and-vegetable
aisle
.
I
looked
up
it
,
but
there
was
no
sign
of
Norton
or
my
son
.
The
old
lady
who
had
run
into
the
door
was
examining
grapefruits
.
Her
husband
had
produced
a
net
sack
to
store
purchases
in
.
I
walked
up
the
aisle
and
went
left
.
I
found
them
in
the
third
aisle
,
Billy
mulling
over
the
ranks
of
Jello-O
packages
and
instant
puddings
.
Norton
was
standing
directly
behind
him
,
peering
at
Steff
's
list
.
I
had
to
grin
a
little
at
his
nonplussed
expression
.
I
threaded
my
way
down
to
them
,
past
half-loaded
carriages
(
Steff
had
n't
been
the
only
one
struck
by
the
squirreling
impulse
apparently
)
and
browsing
shoppers
.
Norton
took
two
cans
of
pie
filling
down
from
the
top
shelf
and
put
them
in
the
cart
.
"
How
are
you
doing
?
"
I
asked
,
and
Norton
looked
around
with
unmistakable
relief
.
"
All
right
,
are
n't
we
,
Billy
?
"
"
Sure
,
"
Billy
said
,
and
could
n't
resist
adding
in
a
rather
smug
tone
:
"
But
there
's
lots
of
stuff
Mr.
Norton
ca
n't
read
either
,
Dad
.
"
"
Let
me
see
.
"
I
took
the
list
.
Norton
had
made
a
neat
,
lawyerly
check
beside
each
of
the
items
he
and
Billy
had
picked
up-half
a
dozen
or
so
,
including
the
milk
and
a
six-pack
of
Coke
.
