White People Only

Who can declare under what circumstances there will be those who are excluded?

They arrived at the same time, but from opposite ends. The sports car rolled into the parking lot from the east side, while the truck pulled in from the west. Each vehicle came to a stop in random parking spots, oblivious to the other motorist. The engines shut off and each occupant emerged from his vehicle. 

A lean young black man stepped out of the car. He walked toward the Stop'n'Shop market, checking for any cars that might be passing before him, then proceeded to cross. From the truck, another young African American male, not as dark, sporting shades. He checked his phone as he walked toward the business and also watched for traffic. Simultaneously, both young men seemed to cross the driving arena, but the first young man walked toward an outside dining area with a picnic table. There sat a young girl. 

"Hey, Larisha, how you doing?" he asked her. The other youth neared the door to enter the market. A white woman emerged pushing a cart with bagged items. Once she had passed, the young man entered. 

"Larisha, are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay. That's why I called you."

"What's wrong?"

"I hate this job."

"That's nothing new." The young man sat down across from her. 

"They just really gettin' on my nerves now. Just annoying. I know they make fun of me."

He stood again. "You want me to go beat somebody up?"

"No, Quallon. That won't do any good. I still have to have a job."

He sat once more. "I know you do. You're going to find people like that no matter where you work."

"It's just so unfair. I don't even do anything to them."

A heavy-set blonde girl wearing a monogrammed store apron strutted by the couple and made her way toward the entrance. She gave Larisha a rather cold disregard. 

"That's one of them right there," Larisha said. Quallon looked at the girl. 

"Aw, she's nothing to get worked up over." 

"I know, but if she and I get into a disagreement or argument, they're gonna take her side, everytime." 

Inside the Stop'n'Shop, the other young man was nearly finishing his purchases. He checked his phone again, obviously to make sure he had everything, then proceeded to the register. 

"Well, what do you want to do?"

"I don't know. I want to quit, but I'll get behind in my bills then."

The young man's items were rung up and bagged. He offered sufficient payment, took his bags and made his way to the door. 

"I don't know what to tell you to do, Larisha."

"I know. I just wanted someone to talk to. It's almost time for me to go back to work and I'm just making myself sick thinking about it." 

The young cutomer approached the door and they automatically opened, and a large, curly-haired redhead pushed her way passed him with two small children beside her. She didn't even look at him. One of the kids glanced at him as tho he had no business expecting to use the door before them. The fellow wasn't interested in any confrontation. He had other business to tend to, hence his purchases, so once the woman and her offspring were out of his way, he ventured outside once more. The door behind him gave its usual wheezing slide as it closed, but technology now sought to give way. 

"If you don't want to go back in there, then don't. I'll take you home and we'll look for another job." 

"It's just going to be the same no matter where I go."

As the doors shut, there was a malfunctioning click, then a duller pop. He turned and looked at it, but continued walking away. 

The mechanics continued to break down, with unknown developments now making their situation apparent. Build-up of slowly leaking chemicals for extinguishing fires had combined with dissolving insulation and then found its way into the aged plumbing. Ironically, at the same moment the door disconnected, various drains in departments such as the deli and produce erupted with the thick foamy substance pouring forth. 

From the deli, female employees screamed at the surprise of the ooze, but already customers who had no knowledge of the interior defects were approaching the door to depart and being stopped. 

Outside, Quallon and Larisha had walked toward the door so she could unhappily return to work and were likewise stopped by the immobile doors. Other potential patrons had drawn near and found themselves unable to enter.  

"What's going on?" Larisha said. A bearded man on the other side of the glass door was attempting to separate the doors so he could leave. Two women likewise stood behind him, one of them with a full cart. 

Announcements went over the store for assistance in the produce department. Another customer drew toward the door only to stop behind the others. The bearded man sought to force the doors open, then pull them apart, even off the rail, if need be. A manager approached. 

The female employees from the deli came across the front of the store, complaining about the work conditions in the kitchen. Larisha leaned toward the glass to call out to a fellow employee she recognized. "Alice, what's going on?" she yelled. 

Alice responded, "the kitchen is overflowing in some gunk." There was a sudden bang at the door as the bearded man struck the glass with the other lady's shopping cart. The manager began arguing with the man, and he in turn argued back. Out in the parking lot, the fellow in the truck had not yet departed, and watched events unfolding in the store and outside with Quallon and Larisha, as well as the slowly building crowd. Some had pulled out their phones to dial for assistance. Others of course, sought to record events inside. This seemed to aggravate the trapped customers even more.  

In at least two sections of the wall in the building, pipes burst and the liquid concoction poured forth, but seemed to be gradually hardening in the air, like lava. A third drain in the back store room was having the same results as all the others. Finally, the bearded man grabbed up a glass jar and hurled it practically right at Quallon. Women screamed as the jar broke and the contents spiralled across the window. Likewise, the glass cracked in a web of hexagon shapes, but didn't break. The manager was now yelling very loudly at the man. More hysteria came about as persons from the back of the store were coming forth. Quallon and Larisha could only stand outside and watch. By now, the fellow in the truck had slowly ventured forth to see what the issue was.

'Why didn't the window break?" Quallon asked. 

"It's reinforced to prevent breaking and entering," Larisha told him. 

The other fellow pulled out a gun and began shooting toward the top of the windows. Larisha screamed with each shot, and all anyone could do was watch each strike from a bullet simply burst forth like a spider's web. A camera phone was turned toward him, while yet another person called the police again to 'report a shooting'. 

Quallon spied a discarded bar toward the front wall and grabbed it up and likewise began striking at the glass, trying to shatter it, but only making it difficult to see through. The manager now turned and yelled at Quallon from inside, but Quallon wasn't listening. 

The second fellow had returned to his truck and came back with a crow bar. He jammed the bar under the door and sought to pry it open. The manager was yelling about destroying store property. 

It was at this moment, Larisha looked into the store once more in a clear section of glass to see people who had raced through the foam had it caked all over their feet and once it hardened, it was making things difficult for them to move. The foam by now was covering much of the floor toward the back and a person here or there wandering about in it was suddenly immobile and unable to go anywhere. They just stood there screaming for help and anyone who sought to provide assistance was likewise caught in the same predicament. 

Larisha watched the people she knew now start to climb upon the shelves so as not to be confined by the dangerous mire. "Alice," she croaked upon seeing the woman trying to climb a shelf with uncertainty. 

"What is that stuff?" Quallon asked. 

Larisha looked at him with absolute fear in her eyes. He looked back at her. 

'It's like watching a plaster volcano or something," he said, turning back to inside the store. 

"Hey, man, you wanna come help me?" the other fellow called to Quallon. Quallon immediately joined him and together they pulled on the crowbar to get the door open. The bearded man on the other side likewise tried to push on the door, but had taken to standing on a chair to kick at the door. Other people outside seemed unsure of how close to get. Approaching sirens were heard in the distance. 

"He's gonna be trapped on that chair," the fellow said. He gasped a couple of times with the door not budging, stepped back and then went forward to hit the glass with the crowbar and growl as he did so. He gasped some more then handed the bar to Quallon, and turned to walk to his truck once more. 

"Where you going?" Quallon asked, and watched the guy get in the truck, crank it up, then floor it straight at the door. Quallon leapt out of the way as the automobile hit the door with a crunch, headlights shattering, fender twisting and the door likewise bent, but didn't give way. The hardening ooze was building up on the floor and making for a sturdy barricade against the door, slowly getting higher and higher. 

The bearded man was now unable to go any further than the chair, marooned as on a small island. The guy got out of his truck and watched with Quallon as the fellow sought to make a dash for the register counter then go from there, but as soon as he hit the foam, he plunged within it and became unable to move. People were on top of the grocery aisles screaming for assistance. The heavy-set blonde employee was stuck up to her knees in front of the deli department. Someone else was confined to the back of the business, unable to move. 

Larisha watched as Alice slipped off the shelf and struck the jelling surface and vanished within the substance. She seemed to raise her coated head momentarily, but then if she could still breathe, she was no longer moving. 

"What's your name?" the guy asked Quallon. 

"I'm Quallon." 

"Quallon, I'm Nadrus. Let's see if we can get in from the roof."

They raced over to Nadrus' truck where he had a ladder and raised it up toward the awning. People watched as they began climbing the ladder to get on top of the single story building. Still holding the crowbar, Nadrus hurled it over the edge so it landed topside. Larisha watched both of them as well lunge at the roof, then scramble over, kicking their feet as they vanished on top. Fire engines appeared as did police cars. 

Larisha stared at the mysterious contents gradually filling up visibility from the glass. A policeman approached and asked who had done the shooting, while someone screamed the people inside the store couldn't get out. A fireman came up with an axe and began striking the glass, but by then the pale mixture had cemented against the already shatter-proof glass, further strengthening its resistance. The fireman's axe did little more than Nadrus' bullets had previously achieved. Someone told the officers about the two fellows who had climbed onto the roof. 

Quallon and Nadrus got to the nearest air shaft covering and struggled to get it loose. They pryed and twisted at the metal until finally the cover gave way. Quallon looked in the vent, then jumped in. 

"What do you see?" Nadrus yelled to him. 

Quallon came back. "The shaft is closed off by wiring of some sorts. Too difficult to get by." He began climbing up and Nadrus assisted him, then they ventured to another air shaft opening. Same results, prying off the top, then they climbed in. This time the shaft had no obstructions of any kind and the pair crawled along until they anticipated they would be about center of the store where the struggling customers resided on the shelf. Quallon looked through the vent gaps to see any movement and detected only stillness. He and Nadrus began kicking at the vent screen until it gave way. 

It hit the lower surface with a clump. The two men looked down into the store to see only a rough but smooth white surface, with not a hint of life or movement. Only the cover which they had kicked away was the only item visible outside of the solidifying foam. Aside from bubbling at a nearby break in the wall, the store was silent.  

Larisha had moved back away once it was apparent the results of this entire incident. Firemen were prying at doors, blowtorches were trying to cut away the structure. There were attempts at removing the borders, so the glass could just pop out in such a manner, but all activity in the store had ceased. Larisha could only ponder the job she hated and the people who annoyed her, all being within the building. 

Quallon and Nadrus appeared at the top and began climbing back down a fireman's ladder. Larisha watched as they were asked what they had seen and they answered, insisting they had only been customers when the whole situation transpired. Quallon called Nadrus over with him, since all investigations would obviously involve his truck, still smashed into the front door. 

Quallon and Larisha embraced. "Oh, Quentin. I hated that job so much!" 

"I know," Quentin whispered quietly. 

They parted and she now looked at Nadrus and saw how grim he was toward everything, this person she didn't even know. 

"Quallon," Larisha stammered. "I watched everyone left in the store as long as I could. Quallon," she said his name again, "they were all white people. There was no black people anywhere to be seen."

Quallon looked at her and held her again. He turned to look at Nadrus. 

"Then that means I was the last black person to leave the store, don't it?" Slowly Nadrus turned and looked at the bloated structure, then Quallon summoned him along with them toward his car, so they could depart.