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It was nearing nine thirty at night. The sky above was choked with summer clouds illuminated reddish by Richmond's millions of lights. It was not raining yet. The forecast said that it would.

Nor stood outside, sheltered underneath the eaves of the mostly deserted strip mall, a few paces away from the front door of the game store. The game store was still technically open but it was close enough to their closing time that he did not want to intrude on their nightly routine. Plus, he needed to be outside so he could quickly get into Mom's van. The swifter he was home, the better.

This arrangement, him waiting for her, was a practiced drill. He would ask to go to a game store, his mother would drop him off and then she would do some grocery shopping. She would come back to pick him up and he would retreat to safety.

He was softly illuminated by the sickly yellow of the singular old low-pressure sodium lamp that sprouted from the center of the parking lot. He fidgeted with the small tin foil covered cardboard box in his hands, the reason for his outing. The box contained his newly purchased batch of Spellcards. The man who sold them to him seemed friendly enough. He also had seemed, perhaps, a bit high. Seriously, choosing to pack the cards in this way? Well, it was odd. But hey, it worked. Maybe the dude was a pothead. Nor shrugged.

Nor didn't understand drugs. He had of course tried smoking pot before, due to peer pressure. All it did was make him more tired than usual. Why would he want that? He cleared his throat and coughed a little. The wind blew past his face, a gross humid breath. "Summer sucks," Nor thought. Where was Mom? Usually her grocery shopping didn't take this long. He just wanted to go home. He pondered finally getting a driver's license, pacing slowly back and forth on the sidewalk corner to keep his feet from hurting.

Unbeknownst to Nor and his mother, this strip mall had, for the past month, trouble with nocturnal drug deals in the parking lot. The police had become aware of this spot. The criminals had become aware that the police were aware and had already abandoned it as a meeting place. Nor was not in any danger of meeting a dealer.

He looked at his box of cards. The tin foil glittered in the pale light of the lot lamp. While Nor was aware of marijuana and other common substances, he was so far removed from the world of drugs that he saw no issue with this look: him, loitering in the darkness of the strip mall at night, holding a tin foil rectangle.

He heard the noise of a vehicle approaching from the far driveway and turned to see if it was Mom. Nope, just the police. He turned away and continued his slow pacing. The police vehicle mirrored his pacing, methodically cruising around the lot, eyes within scanning every corner for anything suspicious. The car turned the corner near Nor. The officers inside noted Nor's presence. They circled the lot once, twice, slowing more and more each time they passed him. He noticed this. He stared at the cruiser. Were they watching him? Why? He hadn't done anything wrong. Well, maybe loitering was somewhat "wrong." Where was Mom? He grew nervous.

The police cruiser parked in a space near Nor. His heart rate rapidly increased. The officers, both men, exited the vehicle and sauntered towards him. Keys and other tools jingled on their belts with each step closer. Nor's stomach dropped. "Hello," one of the officers, a mustached man, called out. "H-h-h-hi, o-officers," Nor stammered. He was already shaking. As they got closer, the yellow lamp behind them disfigured them into imposing voids.

The officers stopped a short distance from Nor. He was standing on the sidewalk while they were still on the asphalt of the lot. "Just so you know, son, we're recording for your safety and ours." Great. His humiliation was being filmed. "What'cha got there?" the mustached man asked. Nor could barely see their faces through the chiaroscuro of the lamp.

"I-i-i-it's Sp-ellcards."

"Let me see it. Put it on the ground and keep your hands where I can see 'em."

Nor slowly, haltingly, placed the box on the sidewalk, noticing how filthy the ground was. There was dirt, grime, vaguely shiny drip stains, ancient chewing gum spots blackened and fused with the concrete. Disgusting. He backed away with his hands in the air, visibly trembling. The mustached officer bent down and picked up the box while his partner stared at Nor. The officer rustled through the tinfoil, picked up a few cards here and there, ran his fingers over them. Nor silently gasped for breath. He realized now what the officers had been thinking. He looked like he was carrying drugs.

"Why are you out here so late, son?"

"I-I-I-I--"

All at once, Mom's van, looking black instead of green due to the sodium lamp, pulled in through the near driveway. Nor was always happy to see that old car, his express to safety. In this particular instance he was overjoyed. His mom hastily parked in the nearest spot and bailed from the van, leaving it running. The mess of her curly brown hair, the hair that Nor inherited, created a yellow halo around her shaded face. An angel.

"Norbert, what's going on!? Officers, what's wrong!?"

"Hello, ma'am, you know this man?"

"He's my son!"

"Well, he's loitering."

"I was just picking him up. He was waiting for me. He hasn't done anything wrong."

The mustached man sighed. "Look, we can't have people pacing around out here like that. Y'see, ma'am, this lot has been used for, for, bad actors as of late."

"My son is no bad actor."

The officer sighed again. "No. No he is not. Here, son," he turned towards Nor and extended the box of Spellcards. Nor noticed that it was beginning to mist. "Y'can take your cards and go on home. Have a good night," the man said, tired. Norbert slowly dropped his hands and gently took the box from the officer, repeating, "Th-thank you, th-thank you." The officers turned and walked away. Nor could've sworn he heard them chuckling amongst themselves as they left. He and his mom stood there in silence as the police cruiser drove away.

"Are you okay, honey?" Mom asked. Nor was still shaking. She came over to him and patted his back. Her touch was soothing.

"Y-yeah."

"Let's go before it starts to pour."

Together they got into the van, their home away from home. Mom turned on the vents to expel the exhaust fumes that had gotten inside. Nor placed the Spellcards box on his lap. He already felt considerable relief at being back in the old family car that had seen most of his life. Its carpet had dried out food and sweets embedded into it, the center console was filled with receipts and other wads of paper, the pleather around the door handles had been polished by years of use. A circle-shaped air freshener pendant dangled from the mirror. It hadn't been changed in months and had long lost its scent, but the van never smelled bad inside anyways. It smelled like home.

Mom put the van into 'drive' and began the journey to their house. The drive was largely uneventful save for the rain beginning to properly pick up. The droplets thudded against the window. Coming down from the adrenaline, Nor felt exhausted. He stared past the water on the windshield.

"I took longer this time because I helped an old woman with a milk spill."

It took a moment for Nor to register his mom's words. He didn't respond.

"I don't know where the workers were. No good deed goes unpunished, I guess."

Nor nodded. The swaying of the van and the noise of the road threatened to put him to sleep then and there. Mom put on the blinker and turned. The groceries in the back seat shifted.

"Let's not tell Dad about this. I know he's... Hard, on you." Nor turned his head to look out the side window. Tears welled in his eyes. Mom could be hard on him, too. Yet, her kindness hurt worse. He felt he didn't deserve it. He wiped his eyes and focused on the view outside to keep from crying.

They arrived at the house and parked under the car canopy. Nor first placed his box on the dining room table before going back outside to help Mom. They unloaded the groceries together, just as they always did, working like ants going to and from the car and the kitchen. Dad, who was sitting in the light brown reclining chair in the living room with the dog at his feet, peeked at them occasionally above the newspaper he was reading. Once they were done, Nor grabbed his box off of the table and headed downstairs to the basement, his fortress, or was it his prison? He closed and locked his door behind him. The brick walls, coated with white paint, mostly soundproof, were a bittersweet sight. He looked at the box in his hands and remembered how it had touched that disgusting concrete before.

"Stupid fucking box," he said, and dumped the cards out of it onto his computer desk. He ripped apart the tin foil and the cardboard, shredded them utterly, and threw them into his overflowing small trash can. The pieces bounced off of various tissues and papers and onto the floor. He became angry, bent down, grabbed all of the trash all around the bin, and shoved it deep inside, pushing it, compacting it down. He made sure to cover the tinfoil and cardboard with tissues after that. He stood back up and stared at the trash.

"Haha, that's my life," he said. Tears formed in his eyes again. Anger marinated with sadness. He let a few tears fall freely as he undressed and got into the shower. He was glad to have a bathroom down here in the basement. In the summer he was always sweaty because of his stupid fat body. He had gotten even sweatier than usual tonight from the stupid encounter with the stupid police. Everything was stupid and he was stupidest of all.

He finished showering and only bothered to dry himself off and put on underwear. He crawled into bed and laid on his side. The rain was banging against the singular tiny window of the basement. He squeezed his eyes shut and one last heavy tear splashed onto his bed. "The one time I go out in a month and it goes like THAT," he thought, "This is why I stay home. People suck. But then, I know I can't stay home forever." He curled up and shivered. Sadness was rapidly evaporated by anger. "Outside sucks and I suck, it goes around and around, what the fuck do I do!? And all of this five days before my birthday. I'm turning 26 for God's sake! Happy fucking birthday to me! I don't have friends, those weirdos online don't count, I've never had a girlfriend...! Dad's right, I'm wasting my life. But what is there to waste if people out there are wastes, too!?"

He tried his hardest to place more blame on others but it didn't work. He knew that he was supposed to suck it up and endure it just like everyone else. How was this fair at all? How was this fair to anyone? He bristled at the world. He had planned to organize the Spellcards he got tonight. He was now too angry to do anything but try and fail to go to sleep. Eventually, he calmed down enough to get back up, push aside the mess of cards, and slouch at his computer while playing poker online. By this time it was one in the morning.

Poker was second nature to him. He played on autopilot as he pondered this night. He guessed the story of him almost being arrested was a little bit funny, after all. He'd have to tell the DChat weirdos later.

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By Adaline Guerra