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Howard Stark is a name that people recognize, but not quite a face that people recognize. He’s like a radio host, or maybe a sports announcer. People know the name and the voice, but often times, people don’t know the face. It’s probably because his name is plastered on the side of just about every weapon that the U.S. Army uses, and so it shows up in the news pretty often, but it’s not like there’s a portrait of him plastered beside the block letters of his name.
That’s why, when Howard Stark strolls into a small convenience store on a drab corner, or at least as drab as Malibu can get, Kelly Webb doesn’t bat an eye. Snotty looking men with slicked back hair and three piece suits come in often enough because just about any man in Malibu fit that description. The little boy, however, is something that Kelly certainly bats an eye at. He’s about five or six, she thinks, with unruly dark curls and the biggest brown eyes. He’s trotting slightly to keep up with the long strides of what Kelly assumes is his father, and he’s babbling along in a quiet voice about something that she can’t make out. It’s a welcome change from screaming children running about the store, but the father doesn’t seem like he gives a rat’s ass about whatever the kid is saying. It makes Kelly want to leave her post at the register and go listen to the boy because a well behaved kid deserves to get whatever he wants and because Kelly knows that well behaved kids barely exist anymore.
“Welcome to The Corner Store,” Kelly calls to the two because her boss keeps telling her that she has to greet everyone who enters, no matter how awkward it is for either party.
The man doesn’t even shoot a glance in her direction, but the little boy gives her a toothy grin and waves. She’s charmed immediately.
The two disappear down one of the aisles and Kelly pulls out her phone to check the time. It’s only eleven o’clock and her shift doesn’t end ‘til two. She finds herself cursing Matt once again for begging her to take his shift; she always has hated being in the store by herself so late at night.
When she looks up, the two are back in the center aisle and are headed toward Kelly. She smiles at the little boy and he reaches out for his father’s hand, snatching it up in his tiny palm, and begins to drag him by the arm.
“Come on, Papa,” he crows, but his father just yanks his hand from the boy’s grasp.
“Anthony, I told you not to touch me with your filthy hands,” he scolds, shooting his son a dirty look.
The smile on the boy, Anthony’s, face melts away and he slows his pace a bit. He trains his eyes on the ground and sniffles, before wiping a sleeve across his nose.
“Oh, for God’s sake. I’ve told you this before and I don’t want to have to tell you again. You are not to be crying over stupid shit like this. Do you hear me?” the man snaps.
“Yes, sir,” Anthony says, though he keeps his gaze on the ground. Kelly’s heart just about breaks right then and there. It’s not the worst thing she’s ever heard a parent say to their kid in this store, not by a long shot, but it still upsets her nonetheless.
By the time all of this transpires, the two are stationed in front of Kelly’s register. Anthony’s eyes just barely peek over the counter.
“Hi, how are you?” Kelly greets with a sweet smile.
Just as she finishes her sentence, the man’s phone rings and his fishes it from his pocket, not even bothering to answer her or give her an apologetic look. She absolutely hates it when a customer is on the phone while she’s trying to ring them up, not only because it’s tremendously rude, but because it makes it so much harder to communicate with them when they aren’t paying attention to the transaction.
After that, Kelly doesn’t even ask any of the other questions she’s supposed to ask during every transaction, like ‘can I help you find anything else today?’ or, ‘do you have a Corner Store membership card?’ She just can’t find it in herself to care, especially when the man was being mean to poor Anthony for no reason apparent to her.
She scans the man’s items (a pregnancy test, soap and some razor blades) and smiles again at Anthony. His watery brown eyes are watching her moves carefully and his brows are furrowed.
“Hello,” she greets him, “I’m Kelly.”
His eyes flicker up to hers and he flinches back, but just slightly. She silently fumes.
“Hi,” Anthony murmurs in a soft tone, “I’m Tony.”
“It’s a pleasure, Tony,” she says, and she finds she really means it. Ninety-nine percent of the kids that come into the store are spoiled brats, and she really is glad that Tony is an exception.
“Likewise,” he says, and she finds that completely adorable. What a cute little man.
Kelly totals up the transaction, but doesn’t say a word to the man. He’s engrossed in his phone conversation, talking in hushed tones a little bit to the side. She’s not going to bother interrupting him when he so obviously doesn’t want to be interrupted, and she doesn’t have anything better to do. Customers don’t ordinarily come in after ten pm and, if they do, they’re few and far in between. Plus, she finished cleaning already and she had forgotten her book at home.
Tony picks up a candy bar from one of the shelves lining the registers and counters and he tugs on his dad’s leg. When the man doesn’t look down, Tony tries again harder, only to be fruitless in his attempt once again.
“Papa, can I please get this?” he whispers, so as to not interrupt the phone call too badly. “I promise to be good for the rest of my life.”
The man waves dismissively at Tony without even looking at him. Tony beams and reaches up to slide the chocolate bar across the counter. Kelly scans the bar and slides it right back to the boy.
“There you go, Tony. I hope you enjoy it,” she says, genuinely glad that Tony at least got a treat for coming out with his dad so late at night, especially for a little boy.
“Thank you, Kelly,” he grins. He tears the silver wrapper from the chocolate and takes a nibble from the corner. He lets it roll around in his mouth, kind of like he’s savoring it. Kelly thinks it’s entirely bizarre that a kid as young as Tony seems is being so delicate and reserved eating a chocolate bar. Any other kid she’s ever seen eat candy just tears right in and usually leaves a mess in their wake. This really is an extraordinary kid.
“You’re welcome,” she says, glad that she could make him smile again.
At this point, Tony’s father comes back over and slides his card into the chip reader, not even bothering to look at the screen that has his total on it. He still hasn’t hung up his cell phone, but instead holds it to his ear with his shoulder.
When the machine tings, indicating the end of the transaction, the man removes his card from the machine and marches out of the store, not bothering to say thank you to Kelly or wait for his receipt. Kelly rolls her eyes, but she waves to Tony as he trots out of the store, hot on his dad’s heels.
It’s when the two are in the vestibule that it all goes downhill, though. Kelly supposes that the man just discovered that Tony snuck a chocolate bar into the transaction, although it wasn’t really sneaking when the man waved it on. It seemed that, in the man’s eyes at least, Tony had committed a heinous act, and not that he just bought a chocolate bar that cost a measly dollar without his father noticing.
“Anthony, I told you I would not be wasting any more money on you if I can help it,” the man barks and his voice echoes through the vestibule and drifts through the still-open sliding door so Kelly can hear him loud and clear.
“I’m sorry, Papa,” Tony cries, though he sounds genuinely apologetic. “I can go return it! I’m sure Kelly will give the money back.”
“It’s not about the dollar, it’s about you thinking you are entitled and can take whatever you want when you don’t deserve it. You don’t listen to me and you don’t contribute to the company or society as a whole. Why would you deserve a chocolate bar?”
Kelly can’t see the man’s face as he says this, but she imagines that there are red blotches high up on his cheeks and that his lips are pulled back in a nasty snarl. The thought makes her go cold. She doesn’t move from the register because it’s really not her business and she doesn’t even really know what she’d do once she was face to face with the man. Was it worth losing her job if she couldn’t control her anger?
When she hears a sound of a fist hitting flesh and a small body thumping to the ground, however, she doesn’t hesitate. She’s also kind of ashamed that she didn’t make a move in the first place; her job should come second to a child in need, and she wishes she realized that just a moment sooner.
Her feet carry her to the vestibule, where Tony is sprawled on his back, which one hand pushing against the ground to help him sit up and the other cradling his jaw. The candy bar that started this all lays abandoned on the floor, only a few small bites taken from it. She catches a glimpse of the man disappearing around the corner, but she decides to tend to Tony first. Good riddance to the man, she thinks.
“Tony, sweetie,” she says as she bends down to help him up, “Are you okay?”
He has tears swelling in his eyes, but none have escaped yet.
“I’m okay,” he says, but his voice is unsteady.
She instinctively grabs him under his arms to help him up when he’s so obviously struggling, but he flinches hard and wriggles in her grip. She lets go as if he were on fire.
“How about you come back in and we can get a bag of frozen peas to put on that,” she suggests, motioning to the already darkening bruise on his jaw.
“It’s really okay. I have to go find Howard before he leaves me here. I don’t have enough money to get home all by myself this time,” he tells her, and it simply angers her more. It must show on her face because he’s quick to start apologizing and scooting away from her on his butt.
“Don’t you worry about him, Tony. I’ll call someone and you won’t have to worry about him hurting you or leaving you anywhere ever again,” she says firmly. She can’t bear to have to send this sweet little boy back to a man who treats him like that, and she vows to help him.
“No!” he all but shouts, before hunching his shoulders and curling into himself, as if he thought she would punish him for yelling. “No,” he repeats, quieter this time. “He’ll have your job, and that won’t even be close to the worst of it if you try to interfere. It’s happened before.”
He says it all in a rush, and Kelly just barely understands what he’s saying, considering he’s speaking so quietly. Once the message sets in, however, Kelly is enraged. The man must have some kind of power or an enormous amount of wealth to have any influence in anything, and he’s obviously been abusing that power.
So as to not scare Tony again, though, she turns and looks out the front door. She can’t see most of the parking lot from this vantage point, unfortunately, so she doesn’t know if Howard is still out there or if he really has left his young son at some dank convenience store.
“Kelly, I’m pretty dizzy. Do you think you could get me those peas after all, please?” he murmurs from behind her.
Glad to be able to do something to help him directly, Kelly stands and heads toward the front door.
“Sure thing, Tony. You wait right here and I’ll be back in just a minute. Take it easy,” she tells him before she scurries away to go get a bag from the frozen section.
When she returns, Tony’s gone. She bolts out of the store and sprints around the perimeter of the parking lot, and even the surrounding block, but she sees him nowhere. She sighs as she traipses back to The Corner Store, disappointed that she couldn’t rescue Tony from an obviously awful home life. She hopes she’ll encounter him again, somehow, but she knows it’s a long shot.
It’s ten or so years later when Kelly finally sees him again, by some miracle, but he’s on the television and he looks about seventeen. As soon as she sees the headline of ‘An American Legend, Howard Stark, Has Passed,’ scrolling across the bottom of the screen and the face of the young man standing behind a pedestal, it all falls into place. That young man is Tony, the boy she couldn’t save, and he’s speaking at his parents’ funeral.
“Howard Stark was a good man, but an even better father,” Tony says into the microphone, and a tear leaks from the corner of Kelly’s eye.