express warrior

Phillip was a grocery store cashier. He worked hard, and having been in the role for 14 years, he was on the higher end of seniority amongst his fellow cashiers. Phillip liked the work, and he loved the community. He had his regulars who came through sometimes two or three times a week, and when the Express Line was short, they’d sneak in micro conversations. His wife worked two part time jobs so they could make ends meet. They both worked to support their fourth grade daughter’s future—she showed tremendous promise in the visual arts.

Sometimes on the train ride home, Phillip would question if he could be doing more for his family. He wanted, so deeply, for his wife to not have to work two jobs so that they could have dinner as a family. Phillip flirted with the idea of pushing for more—often. He just didn’t quite know what that looked like, or how to go about it. Maybe, he was also a little scared of change.

Most nights, Phillip would come home and microwave frozen dinners for himself and his daughter Saria. Then, they’d spend time combing through comics together. Both shared a deep passion for the art. Phillip would get lost in nostalgia, not just for the stories that he loved so much; but for those moments where he recaptured his youth and that sense that anything felt possible in a distant time. For Phillip it was an escape, and for Saria, it was a future. 

In recent weeks, Phillip’s role at work was deemed essential. He was no longer a grocery cashier; he was a vital front-line worker. Any fleeting thoughts Phillip may have had to pursue different work, or even to finish that undergraduate degree, went on pause. His hours increased, and he even saw an uptick in responsibility on the job—as he was recently promoted to Lead Cashier. But that voice still nagged. Was he doing everything he could for Saria? Was he being everything he could be, not only for his family, but for himself? 

One morning, Phillip’s alarm went off at 4:30am, like usual. He tip-toed  past his sleeping wife, who only had been off her shift for a few hours, and made his way to the kitchen. On the kitchen counter, he grabbed his keys, and slid on his white face mask.

“Dad.” Saria startled Phillip. He turned, finding his half asleep daughter in the kitchen. “Saria, what are you doing up?” Phillip asked.

“I wanted you to have this.” She presented him with a custom printed face mask. It featured a pronounced red P, circumscribed by a bold triangular shape; harkening a comic hero’s super logo. 

“What’s this?” Phillip smiled.

“It’s your super armor.” Saria replied. “It’s what a warrior needs on the front-line of battle, and you’re leading in the charge, dad.”

Phillip pulled the mask over his face, energized. He felt like he could fly.

-m

May 5, 2020

Photo Credit: Zoltan Tasi