Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

be able to come up with yet another position. Usually a very-menial situation. Didn’t much matter! As soon as she’d become eligible, once more—for those glorious, dependable, eagerly-awaited, unemployment checks—she, suddenly, didn’t have a job any longer! Amazing! She’d refined the routine to an art, Jason had, after time, surmised! On more than one occasion, did those “unholy” thoughts—that she might (just might) be gaming the system—occur, to her ,most-often-confounded, son!

Fat lot of good, however, was all of the troubled—out-of-the-past/future—mental, emotional, wool-gathering, doing Our Boy. On this 1942 Sunday.

Redirecting his train of thought, he quickly crossed Grand River—and then Greenfield—heading to the “celebrated” drugstore! When he’d entered, he was accosted by a, truly-withering, sight. What was going on, inside—was, he found, no bargain. Especially—at the soda fountain/lunch counter.

Well, the store, itself—and even the fountain—were just as well-constructed, and as strategically-laid-out as they could be. Had they not been so overwhelmingly busy, they’d have even looked to be, ever-so-pleasant.

It seemed, though. that everyone—in the Western Hemisphere (except for Susan and Eric Atkinson—and he didn’t even want to think about what they might be doing)—had decided to belly up to the long, marble-topped counter, which was the “luncheonette:/soda fountain. This multitude was consuming what appeared to be more milkshakes—and malted milks—than he could ever have imagined existed.

Well, there were more than a goodly number of—fifteen-cent—ice cream sodas, being inhaled too. As well as an abundance of bacon, lettuce and tomato sandwiches—on toast (of course). Was everyone—in the entire city—were they all, at that particular Cunningham’s?

Well, certainly not his landlord and landlady. (Damn that thought! Get rid of that damn train of thought!) But, how about everyone else, in the known universe? Were they present? Probably. Sure looked that way.

He meandered around the store—hoping that the highly-populated fountain area would, eventually, “clear the hell out”. However, each time he’d glance, in the direction of the crowded fountain—and the four, harried-but-industrious, young ladies, rushing (seemingly, in all directions) behind the counter—he was not offered much immediate encouragement.

Our Lad was surprised—well, astounded might be a better word—at the differences that would have taken place, drugstore-wise, over the next almost-60 years!

There were no such items as Tylenol or Excedrin, or Nyquil, or Dristan, or Aleve, or Advil. Not even Bufferin! Nor any of the multitude of other popular pain relievers. Products that he was so used to seeing—almost everywhere. The ones that had always filled—and, had practically, overflowed—all drug counters, in the 21st century. Not to mention the stuff, cluttering the shelves, of grocery stores, and convenience stores—and even populating a “gazillion” vending machines—in his “native epoch”.

At Cunningham’s, there were simply a comparatively few brands of actual aspirin—the most prominently-displayed being Bayer. But, there were a few others—such as St. Joseph’s, and Squibb. He’d thought he’d remembered Grandpa speaking of emperin tablets—as being “stronger” than aspirin. That had, pretty much, been the ultimate non-prescription pain-relief “medicine”. There were a few bottles—of that “wonder drug”—staring back at him. All sporting brand names. Ones that Jason had never heard of.

There were a few other “remedies” available though. For, seemingly, a vast multitude of maladies. Such additional panaceas (also considered “wonder drugs”, apparently)—as Doan’s Pills, Carter’s Little Liver Pills and Father John’s Medicine. Additionally, there was that best-selling cough remedy—called Rem.

There were also Ironized Yeast tablets. He’d not the slightest idea what they were for. Well, the bottle expounded the contents—as the glorious remedy, for a “borderline anemia”. (Whatever that was. The Visitor From Another Epoch thought it sounded obscene!)

There were only very few “muscle rubs”. By far, there were more tubes of Ben-Gay (in the red-and-white tube—which said nothing about being “greaseless and/or stainless”), There were a couple other wondrous pain-relieving rubs—such as Sloan’s Liniment, and Heet.

The toothpaste display was similarly short—when it came, to the variety of brands. Ipana, Kolynos, Colgate, Pepsodent, and Iodent, seemed to be the most prominent. The latter brand featured two different “strengths”. “Hi Tech” stuff! Well, there were also Dr. Lyons Tooth Powder—as well as similar powders, put out by Pepsodent and Colgate.

Glancing back over, at the overcrowded soda fountain, Jason shrugged his shoulders—and heaved an immense sigh. One that seemed to have given a start to two nearby, elderly, ladies. Both of them were examining a package—containing a bright-red liquid, under-arm, deodorant. The ,for-the-ages, product—was called Odor-O-No. The stuff came, in a rather-large, clunky-looking, bottle—containing an-also-oversized “dauber”, inside. Next to that delectable-looking commodity—there were situated a couple, “new-fangled”, cream-style deodorants. Arid was the only one with which Our Hero was familiar. He was pretty sure that they didn’t make the product any longer—but, he’d had no idea, when production may have stopped.

He finally figured that he might as well give up—on the Cunningham’s venture, as a bad job. Although he was tempted (with a mob this size) to go ahead—and wait! Try and pass the tenner. But, temptation was as far as his thinking would allow him to progress!

He could just envision the call Susan could—and probably would—receive, in about an hour or two: Their star boarder “was in jail”! For counterfeiting! And would she be interested—in bailing his law-breaking, worthless, fanny out? Even as much of a saint—as his landlady had proven to be—Jason doubted she’d be all that enthused, with the prospect!

He took the opportunity to clock the prices, at the soda fountain—and had decided that he’d (thankfully) had substantially more than enough change, to spring for a nickel phosphate drink. Probably cherry.

He might’ve done that! Maybe even “done the deed” with his ten-spot—had he not been so discouraged, at the continual size of the crowd. The “immediate world” was still settled in, at the counter. In addition, six or eight people were, at that point, standing—behind some of those, that were seated! Waiting for a stool to clear—for themselves! The scene, there, was just this side of perfect bedlam! And the fact was—that the four young ladies, back there, had remained completely overwhelmed! Had been so besieged—since Jason had entered the store! Well before that hallowed entrance, obviously!