Somewhere In America Abigail Derkson In the handicap parking spot at the grocery store, Joe Jordan feels for the first time what he hasn’t felt since he was a young man: needed. He pulls a crumpled list from his jacket pocket and flattens it out against his steering wheel. Orange juice. Crackers. Children’s NyQuil. He sighs and turns the list over, in case his daughter has scribbled something else for him. He laughs. In his granddaughter’s jagged print, Oreos is written on the back in green crayon with a smiley face. She is six, and he is sixty-five, and he wonders how long it will be before she’s no longer a little girl but a young woman. He waits for the day she’ll come home with a pack of Marlboros and a Mohawk even though he hopes she’ll turn out nothing like her mother. Joe stuffs the list and two twenties into his jacket pocket, grabs his cane from the backseat, and gets out of the car. The November wind burns his cheeks, and he holds onto the door panel for leverage. His knees ache, and snow starts to fall, so he takes his time getting to the grocery store. At the cross area, cars do not stop for him, but he’s used to this, so he waits. Having a young child in his home has taught him a patience he did not have when raising his own children. His grips his cane a little harder, ducks his chin to his chest, and pushes through the cross area when Mrs. Ingram, a mother of six children under ten years old, brings her minivan to a halt. He lifts his hand and smiles, and she waves. Joe can see one of the twins beating the other one over the head with a Spiderman action figure in the backseat. Joe smiles and admires her courage. The sliding doors open, and he smiles at Vinny, a stocker, who dips his mop in a water bucket. “Good morning, Mr. Jordan!” Vinny swipes a mop over the tile floor. “How are ya?” “Alright, kid. When you’d get back from school?” “Just this weekend. Thought I’d pick up an extra shift, if I could.” “Georgia paying you good?” Vinny laughs and puts his mop in the bucket, grabbing a sign for the wet floor. “Mrs. Hartman treats all of her employees right,
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