Should I stay or Should I go?

The woman walks into the gas station, her eyes immediately scanning the shelves. She is looking for something specific, but she can't quite put her finger on it. A Butterfinger candy bar? She hasn’t eaten one in a while. They used to be her favorite candy bar growing up. “No, that's not it”, she thinks and keeps walking down the first aisle. She didn’t want childhood memories overloading her brain at the moment it was already starting to go into overdrive from fatigue. 

Chips. No. Mixed nuts. No. 

Any other time she walks into a gas station she is in and out, five minutes tops, but not today. No, today it was going to be an act- of-Congress-day to figure out what she wants apparently. She hates it when these days come up. It set the tone for the rest of the day like a domino effect. She wanders down the first aisle a little more, picking up items and putting them back down. 

Maybe aisle number two will have a more enticing selection of items. Her hazel eyes sweep from left to right as she walks at a leisurely stroll. This was the breakfast pastry and mega-size chip bag aisle. 

“Why do they even sell bags this size in a gas station,” she thinks to herself. Right as she finishes the thought the electronic door chime rings alerting her and the gas station clerk of another customer. 

The new store patron looks like he walked off the cover of a Thrasher magazine. From his worn-out tan-colored Vans shoes to his shoulder-length curly unkempt brown hair tucked inside his backward-facing ball cap. He was the poster child of a skateboarding aficionado. It was tough to gauge his age though. 

She keeps her snail's pace of a walk down aisle two as the new customer hurriedly makes his way to the cold drinks in the back. Her eyes fall on the bags of Cheez-Its. She pauses for a moment. No, not even those delicious cheesy snack crackers seem to satisfy her longing. She sighs quietly getting somewhat irritated with herself. Gas station contestant number two didn't seem to have her problem of indecisiveness. Lucky. She was about to round the corner to aisle number three when Thrasher boy-man hustles his way past her into aisle two. 

He browses the mega-sized bags of chips for all of 2.5 seconds and snatches up a bag of Doritos Nacho Cheese and heads to the clerk. She fights the urge to roll her eyes. “Well, at least you got your question answered,” she thinks to herself. She huffs and shakes her head as if to clear it and her indecisiveness as she starts the stretch down aisle number three. 

This aisle wasn’t going to help her cause either. Almost as if on cue Rod Sterling’s voice pops into her head, “Picture if you will a woman in a gas station, unable to find what she’s looking for but knowing it’s there.” This time she does roll her eyes. “Get a grip. This is not the Twilight Zone. You’re just having a moment,” she thinks. 

Aisle three’s offerings were even slimmer than the previous two. Microwaveable soup, microwaveable macaroni and cheese, little canned sausages, Tuna to-go meals, and other non-exciting food products lined the shelf. This was getting her nowhere fast. She glances to her right eyeballing the front of the gas station that usually has fresh foods on display like sandwiches, wraps, and rotating hot dogs. No, no, and no - none of that exclaims “Pick Me!” to her either. 

“Ok little lady, you’ve got two options,” John Wayne’s voice mentally tells her, “you can either take another twirl through the aisles. Or option two, you can keep standing here waiting for lightning to strike your fanny.” She stops abruptly at the word fanny. 

“Did John Wayne actually say fanny? Who in the world says the word fanny,” she says to herself. She suddenly gets the feeling someone is looking at her and zeros in on the gas station clerk watching her while attempting to cover his smirk with his hand. Immediately she feels the heat of embarrassment cover her face and sheepishly smiles. 

“Great, now I’m indecisive and crazy,” she thinks to herself, “but, John Wayne does have some logic behind his pep talk.” She shifts her weight from one leg to another as if physically weighing the options as well. To twirl the gas station again, or not to twirl, that is the question. 

“Maybe,” her inner voice chimes in now, “this is one of those life-altering choices. Yeah, like, maybe I’m supposed to be here in this gas station, standing at this spot, and coming to this pinnacle point in time where my life changes depending on which path I take. Path one is the second walk thru of the gas station. Path Two, I walk out of the gas station with nothing at all.” She feels her stomach turn slightly, a sign that her nerves are starting to act up. 

Just as she starts to take her first step toward her final decision the door chime rings out again startling her. Great, now her intention deflates completely and she’s back to square one again. “Should I stay or should I go now?!”, starts playing in her head at this point. She slaps the palm of her hand to her forehead. This was getting ridiculous, but at least her mental psyche had good taste in music. 

She takes stock of her surroundings again with The Clash still mentally playing in the background. She glances toward aisle one recalling her Butterfinger memory. Nope, she still was not feeling it. Her eyes move to aisle two the Cheez-It aisle. She cocks her head to the side pondering a moment. No, the Cheez-Its aren’t passing the vibe check either. Finally, she scans aisle three once more almost longing for something to stand out. This was becoming mentally exhausting. 

How long had she been inside the gas station anyway? She glances at her watch which reads 6:00 pm. Okay, it’s only been 15 minutes, so she hasn’t been here for the eternity that it's felt like. That theory of relativity is no joke. She rolls her shoulders back before rolling her neck around full circle in an attempt to center her train of thought. Clearly, the gas station has nothing to offer her today. 

Finally, admitting defeat and giving up she walks to the counter. 

"Can I help you?" asks the clerk. He still has a faint smirk on his face from watching her verbally debate with herself about the probability of John Wayne using the word fanny. 

"I'm looking for something," she says, "I don't know what it is, but I know it's here." She crosses her arms and leans her hip against the counter physically emphasizing her frustration. 

The cashier smiles. "I know what you mean," he says. "I feel like that all the time. I mean not necessarily when I’m in here but you know, in general." 

She nods. "It's like there's something missing, but I can't figure out what it is." She scans over the aisles and coolers in the gas station. Her one last attempt at finding what she’s looking for over the past 15 minutes. 

"Well, if you find it, let me know," the clerk says. "I'm always looking for new things to try." His smirk widens into a full smile. 

She studies his face for a long time and fights back the sadness she knows is lingering behind her eyes. So many years had passed. So many milestones were missed. So many…she shook her head quickly as if to shake away the next thought bubble rising up from the backroom of her heartache.

Instead, she can’t help but smile back at his endearing comment. "I will," she says. "Thanks." She turns and slowly, almost begrudgingly, walks out of the gas station into the brisk fall afternoon. She still has the feeling like something was missing. But she knows she will find it eventually.

The gas station clerk watches her walk out and stares at the closed doors for a minute. He smiles again almost laughing at his own personal inside joke. He shakes his head as he chuckles, “Nah, it couldn’t be possible.” Then turns his back to the door to start on his end-of-shift checklist before the next clerk arrives. 

A few minutes pass and he hears the door chimes again. He turns to see that it’s her again and smiles warmly at her as she walks in. But now she’s walking like she knows what she wants. Guess she remembered what it was she was looking for after all. “Good for her.” He thinks to himself. She was stressing pretty bad about not finding what she wanted. 

He sets the checklist down on the counter now and goes back to reading it over instead of watching her. He didn’t want to be a creeper and scare her off. A few minutes pass and he hears her approach the counter. 

She sets down her items for purchase: a Butterfinger, a bag of Cheez-Its, and her little sister’s favorite microwaveable mac and cheese. She watches him ring up the items. 

“Oh one more thing”, she says, “Can you grab me a pack of Virginia Slim Menthol Light 120s, my mom will kill me if I don't grab her smokes before I get home.” 

He turns his back to her going in search of the cigarettes on the wall behind him taking his time being methodical as possible. 

She continues on as she watches his search, “Oh yeah, I also figured out that new thing for you to try too.” 

He smiles slightly finding the cigarettes and turns to face her, “Oh yeah what's th-.” He fails to finish his sentence finding himself on the potential receiving end of a 9mm pistol pointing directly at him. 

“Prison. You can try prison” she says, as she pulls out her FBI badge from under her shirt. “You’re under arrest for the murders of Francis and Samantha Walker. My mother and my little sister. It only took took me 10 years…but, I guess I found what I was looking for after all.”