"Them Cereals..."

bite-sized fiction

I heard David’s voice before I saw him.

“I seen you buying them cereals,” he whispered slyly behind me.

We were in the meat aisle of the grocery. Frozen meats. The fresh cut was over at the butcher’s counter. I wasn’t even in the market for meat, just passing through, trying to find my way to baked goods.

David prodded at my arm; his soft fingers bunched together with his thumb like they were all gathered inside of a puppet. But there was no puppet, just those soft fingers pecking at my bicep.

“I know you eat them honeycombs, Cap’n Crunches and whatnot,” he said with a giggle.

“What of it?” I spat back. Now this was getting accusatory, and I would have no part of it. What I ate in the morning was not for him to scrutinize.

“I eat King Vitamin,” he grinned, his little eyes swam joyfully around my face. “Is healthy.”

“Great,” I said. “You seem really healthy, David. So, you must be eating the exact right cereal.”

His eyes narrowed as he searched my face for sarcasm, but in that moment, there was none. I had let go of my petty defensiveness and was lost in the thought of David and his King Vitamin regimen.

I’d never tried King Vitamin. It’d been around since I first discovered the cereal aisle, but that smiling king in the grainy color photo on the box always looked like he was participating in something that made it hard for him to sleep at night. I got a greasy feeling looking at the box as a kid.

And the thought of choosing him when Apple Jacks, Froot Loops, Tony the Tiger, and the Cap’n were all right there in their brightly colored boxes holding a party just for me? Ridiculous.

And that was just the A-list. The B-list had plenty of great things to offer too. Booberry, Frankenberry, Count Chocula, that fruity werewolf, the magically delicious leprechaun, the propeller-headed Quisp, and scads of others. They were all ready to accompany me home and join me for cartoons.

I’d camp out in that cereal aisle and just groove on the boxes the whole time my mom was shopping. She’d swing by on her way to the cashier, let me pick one box, and off we’d go. What a great thing I had going back then. Damn.

“Rot your teeth,” David said softly and without conviction to no one in particular. Like a mantra that kept him on the straight and narrow. I wondered whose voice he heard when he said it.

“See ya, David,” I said starting toward the bakery again. I needed some rolls, and I was done talking cereal. David fingered a pack of frozen meat parts gingerly as I moved away from him.

“Anyway, just thought I’d tell ya is all. I seen ya,” he called after me.

I raised my hand in a wave, not looking back. Shoot maybe I’d pass through that cereal aisle after I got my rolls. See some old friends, ha ha. Couldn’t hurt to take a look.