“You’re losing forty-eight dollars off this week’s check alone, Doll,” Carl said.

“How are you going to pay the rest of the utility bill?”

I looked down at the dark ring of oil soaked into the concrete around pump five.

“I don’t care about the utility bill,” I said.

Carl leaned back on the steel light pole and looked at me out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s going on with you, Ona?” he asked gently.

“You’ve worked this register since 1994, and you never once missed a shift.”