Losing It by Alan Cumyn

fuss. The driver even pulled over, stood up, helped her put her raincoat back in the white purse. Was that the right one? She was just not sure. So she got off, clutching, walked away. It was so hot. She looked back at where the hardware should have been. The one that Trevor used to disappear in. But it wasn’t there any more. They must have moved it. An older man worked there, very gentle. He always knew what you were looking for. You didn’t even have to describe it very well. He knew. He could go get it for you. And a good thing too, because that store was packed to the sky with screws and nuts and … and odds and such. You couldn’t find anything on your own. Which was why the man was there.
    And that’s why it was so disappointing to look back and find he wasn’t there. Where do stores go? Lenore walked across the street, slowly so the cars could stop for her. Stood for a long while looking at the spot where the hardware should have been. It wasn’t fair. She longed to go in and have Trevor say what to do. He was a great man for that. He always knew. Not a moment in his life when he didn’t know exactly what to do. It wasn’t always the
right
thing but he never had any doubts at the time.“Hello?” Lenore said the word in her funny voice that made everybody laugh. Usually, anyway. But this boy wasn’t laughing. He didn’t seem to know about anything. It was so noisy, Lenore was trying to get away.
    “Are you all right, lady?” he asked. His hands were shoved in his pockets and his hair was sick yellow. He must have a disease, Lenore thought sadly.
    “Hello
?” she said again, even funnier, letting him know it was all right. She was fine, except for the noise.
    “How’d you get here?” he asked, stepping between the branches, just a little closer. It was very thick.
    “I think I’m finished now,” Lenore said, pushing at one. It pushed right back at her.
    “Do you need some help?”
    “Off the track,” Lenore said, pushing at the branch. “I think I’m finished.”
    “Here,” the boy said and stepped over a log, bent low under something thick, squeezed past some others. They shouldn’t keep it this way, she thought.
    “How did you get here?” the boy asked. There was still a nasty bit between him and Lenore. He looked like he wasn’t sure he wanted to go through it. He hesitated as if Lenore might be able to pick her own way out.
    “It’s a lovely day,” Lenore said.
    “Where are your shoes?” the boy asked. It
was
uncomfortable. Stickies on her nylons. And mud. What was Julia going to say?
    “Did you lose your shoes somewhere?”
    “I think I’m finished,” Lenore said, sitting down. It seemed the only thing to do. There was a bit of a fallen-down thingright there, but it started to give way as soon as she sat and then she had to get up again. It’s all being looked after very badly, she thought.
    “Give me your hand,” the boy said, reaching through.
    “I think I’m finished.”
    “We have to go back this way to get to the path,” the boy said. “Just give me your hand.”
    Lenore reached out to him and stepped halfway over and straight into the stickies. Everything was so badly managed. She clutched at her purses with her free hand but the blue one swung and got caught again and again. The boy started to break the branches with his hands. Carefully, as if they had all the time in the world.
    “Did you get lost?” he asked.
    “You never know,” she said, half-laughing. The hooks tore at her coat and tried to keep her purses. It had been a long time since she’d felt so cool on her toes.
    “I saw some shoes by the river,” the boy said, pulling her. Gently. Almost like what’s-his-name. “Are those your shoes?” he asked.
    It was no good. She wouldn’t make it this way. Honestly, anybody could see that. Lenore let go of his hand and dropped to her knees. Had to be careful to keep her coat out of the way and hang on to her purses, which dragged on the ground.