Chapter 2 - The Sidewalk Spectacle
The heat outside slammed into them like an iron door. Marcus held the glass door open just wide enough for Toby and Evelyn to exit, his polite retail mask hardening into rigid detachment the moment their feet crossed the threshold. Evelyn stepped onto the boiling pavement, flinching as her bare skin touched the rough concrete.
“We can’t stay inside?” Toby asked, his hand gripping Evelyn’s arm tighter. “Her foot is burning.”
“Store policy,” Marcus replied through the glass seam, his smile tight and practiced. “Loitering without an active transaction is discouraged. I’ll monitor the upload from my terminal. Check back in thirty minutes.” The heavy door clicked shut, locking the cool interior away.
Toby guided Evelyn beneath the narrow shade of a storefront awning next door. Evelyn sat down heavily on a low brick ledge, pulling her bare foot up onto her knee to keep it off the baking stones. Her eyes were fixed on the traffic flowing past, glassy and distant.
“I’m sorry, Toby,” she murmured, her throat tight with unshed tears. “You shouldn't have to beg for your old grandmother. Not on the street.”
“You’re not begging, Grandma. I asked him,” Toby insisted, rubbing his thumbs over her trembling knuckles. “He said ten thousand people. That’s a lot of people, but they’ll see you. People care.”
Across the glass pane of the shoe store, Marcus sat behind his polished register, his face bathed in the blue glow of a tablet. Through the reflection, Toby watched the salesman’s fingers flying across the screen. Every few minutes, Marcus would glance up, his gaze darting toward Evelyn’s bent silhouette, checking her position as if she were an advertisement sitting on his curb.
Twenty minutes crawled past. The sun dipped slightly behind the commercial rooftops, turning the horizon a bruised orange. Pedestrians walked past, their eyes darting to Evelyn’s bare foot and dusty hem, then flicking uncomfortably away. A mother pulling a toddler quickened her pace; a man in a business suit pretended to check his wristwatch.
Suddenly, a notification chime rang out loudly from inside the store, followed by another, and another. Toby watched as Marcus jumped to his feet, eyes glued to his screen, his jaw slackening in pure disbelief. The salesman paced toward the window, holding the phone up to his ear as he took an incoming call.
Marcus turned the corner and pushed the glass door open, stepping out into the evening heat.
“The algorithm caught it,” Marcus breathed, showing Toby the screen. The counter wasn't at ten thousand. It was climbing past one hundred and forty thousand views, the follower tally ticking upward like an electric meter in a storm. The comment section was a waterfall of weeping emojis, outrage, and pledges of money.
May you like
“Does that mean she gets the shoes?” Toby asked, hope blooming across his face.
Marcus lowered the phone, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked down the street. “Not yet, kid. A local news van just pulled up at the intersection. Stay right where you are.”
