In the White

Must be a Monday. Monday something-something.

I can't seem to remember the date anymore. Or even why I first came in here. Everything before I walked in seems to be fading out, like my brain is wading through some sort of white-noise swamp. Odd to be in a shopping cart as I save this...

Phone works, but no numbers are on it. Not even the date. No internet, either, but I'm beginning to forget how that works, too. No pictures to remind me of anyone. And since I am forgetting things, I better record all this for whoever finds my cell.

So, this all happened as soon as I walked in. Thing is, I don't really know why I even came in to this supermarket; this particular supermarket. And this is not even my usual stop. For some reason, I decided to stop here instead of the other one near my house. Our house.

Our house. Our home. My wife and child.

Thinking about them now. We lost her a year ago...I think. Tried to have another. Did not work. No chance.

Wait. Milk.

She sent me to get some milk. That was what I remember. She said milk. Maybe eggs. Did not write it all down, but I remember milk.

At least this place was open. It was pretty late and I didn't know their hours. Weekdays and weekends. Monday to...

Monday something...

I picked Monday. Not totally sure. And I could probably pick a month where I could wear shorts, a t-shirt and sandals. That's what I came in wearing and then found the milk. Went to the counter. Waited for someone to come out. And waited. And waited.

No one on a Monday.

Wondered about that. Not a single person in the entire place. Not even a cashier. Stupid me, waiting in line in the express lane with my one item. So, I walked past all the numbers and saw...no one. Not one other body.

And I stayed inside. Why? Well, I looked out through the large windows at what was happening outside. People were running away from it, maybe because they were dressed like me.

It was snowing.

Not just snowing. It was a whiteout. I could barely see the sidewalk in front of the place, or the parking lot where I had my car. And I am wearing summer clothes in the middle of it. Why go out?

Now, this next part is the reason why I decided to record this. Someone should know about what happened.

I heard crying.

Put this picture in your head: alone in an abandoned supermarket, a sudden blizzard kicks up, and then you hear crying.

I didn't want to check it out, but just standing around with a carton of milk made no sense. And it got louder as I stood there. So I walked around...

Milk. Snow. A pattern?

Anyway, I found this baby. You will find it next to me in a shopping cart. Someone had brought it in without a stroller and it was just sitting there, crying and gesturing at me. Simple white onesie and nothing else to tell me a thing about who she was (yeah, I checked; thought it needed to be changed). A baby alone in a store during a blizzard. Yeah, it was a Monday. I mean, it 'is'.

'I'm all lost in the supermarket.

I can no longer shop happily.'

Well, I can remember that song. I could not shake it when I entered the produce section and found the baby sitting on top of some cauliflower, sobbing and pointing up.

Milk. Snow. Cauliflower. Am I missing something?

The tears stopped when I picked her up. In fact, she took to me like she had known me her whole short life. Little cute hug. And it is strange as I look at her. She seems very familiar. It feels like we met before and she was always in my life. Stupid, but very...something.

Anyway, I went over to a section that had some toiletries and found some simple towels and other things that were perfect for a baby (wipes, formula, food, talcum powder). No stroller, or course, but the cart seems comfortable enough when I turned it into a portable crib filled with towels and even a few toys. Surprised that they had any in a supermarket.

I did talk about the mental fog, right? I am not going to rewind this thing to check. Honestly, I thought being around the baby would help. But I could not leave her alone, could I? Such a beautiful little girl, maybe seven month? No, eight. Nine? Hard to tell now. She stopped crying when I picked her up (wait, I already said that). And she was not hungry - tried to feed her from a few jars and considered formula; looked at the milk and she would not let it near her lips - or needed to be changed (yeah, I did talk about that). I even got into a cart next to hers just to entertain her. And she smiled, giggling at this complete stranger in the market.

Still have the milk. May as well drink it down if I am going to be stuck here. Strange how I am not hungry, either (how long have I been in here?)

Snow hasn't stopped. I had moved our carts close to the front so that we could see what was happening. She got very excited by this and could not help almost jumping out of the cart. Like she was seeing a performance just for her.

And no one tried to come in. Odd.

Odd baby. Keeps looking at me now. At least it isn't crying at me. Just sitting in the towels and padding.

All that white around me.

'All lost.'

Sorry, I have to end this soon. All that snow and that fog in the head is growing stronger. Cannot concentrate on this. Baby will be fine if I take a short nap. This cart just seems to be getting bigger. So big. Was the baby's cart always bigger than mine? Was the baby (definitely a year old)? And I have milk, towels, rolls, cauliflower - why did I pick that up - and all that snow...

Baby looks so familiar...

'All lost in the supermarket...engulfed in the sand and wind.'

Need to rest for a bit. Will pause it here...

'I can no longer shop happily... Engulfed in the desert's parched silence, I was nothing but another grain of sand in the wind...'

*

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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