back Oak Kelsey's Response Arm Chapter Three You Look Like My Son A couple of months ago I was in line at the local supermarket. The lines were long and I was waiting behind this older woman. The woman was staring at me, but I pretended not to notice as I closely inspected the items in the check-out aisle. You know, the tabloid magazines, the horoscopes, receipe ideas, candy, and an assortment of trinkets, such as eye-glass repair kits, playing cards, etc. The woman's stare became too much for me, so I turned around to avoid her glare. Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and looked at the woman. "I hate to bother you, but I had a son who looked just like you," she said, "He died a few years ago in a car accident. Forgive me if I seem like I'm staring at you, but you look just like him." "I'm sorry about your son," I told her. "Thank you," said the woman. She stopped staring but I was a little freaked out by her statement. I went back to checking out the tabloid headlines, engrossing myself in a cover story about Madonna (or something like that). Finally, it was my turn in line. I only had a package of cheese, some Coke and a couple of cans of soup. After the cashier rang up the items, he said to me, "That will be $52.30." "What?" I said, "I just have a few items." "Well, that woman ahead of you said you were her son and that you would be paying for her items," said the cashier. "Ohhhh, Shit!" I thought. I left my items on the counter and told the cashier, "I'll be right back," then ran out of the store and saw the woman walking quickly down the street. "Hey, come back here!" I yelled to the lady. She heard me but only walked faster. I started following her. She started running and I ran after her. When I caught up to her, I told her to stop, but she wouldn't. I finally grabbed her by her jacket and she acted like I had really yanked on it hard and fell to the ground. "Please don't hurt me," she pleaded. That's when I started pulling on her leg, just like I'm pulling your leg right now. I couldn't resist, The Attic Take me back to the Oak Intro. ©2003 Oak Kelsey