Summer Sucks

The humidity read eighty percent, coupled with the ninety-one-degree weather, made things unbearable. Kyle wiped his brow of sweat and sheen that ran down his face. In the distance, heat waves rose from the ground, making it look like he lived in the desert. Drought, they said, backed up by the Farmer's Almanac. It had been over a month since the last traceable rainfall, and he came home to find his kids frying eggs on the sidewalk for fun.
"Stop wasting food; go into the house; it's hot out here," Kyle growled at them as he walked up the sidewalk.
"The air conditioning isn't working." Jett, his youngest, told him. "Mom made Billy, and me come outside."
"What do you mean it's not working?"
"One minute, it was working, and then it quit. Mom said some bad words and sent us out to play. Billy thought of frying an egg on the sidewalk. Look, Dad, it's working." Kyle bent over and felt a roll of sweat roll down his face, landing near the frying pan with a sizzle. He shook his head and walked into the stifling house.
"Carol?"
"Yeah, I'm in the kitchen." Kyle followed his wife's voice into the kitchen which seemed to be a hundred degrees hotter.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm trying to make supper."
"Turn off the oven. What's wrong with the air conditioner?"
"I don't know. One minute, it was working, and then it quit. I checked the circuit breaker, but that wasn't the reason." Being the fixer of things, Kyle stepped around her, opening the closet door and then the metal breaker box. She was right; everything showed that it was working. He still flipped the breaker marked "air conditioner" off and then on again, walked over to the AC, and hit it a couple of times with his hand.
"See, I told you." She said with a satisfactory grin. Kyle scowled at her.
"Let's go to a restaurant for supper; put your stuff in the fridge, and I'll get the kids in the car."
"But I look awful." Carol put her hands up to her hair.
"Restaurants serve unkempt people as long as you have money," Kyle said, walking out of the house. He called the boys and started the car with the air conditioning on full blast.
"Where are we going, Dad?"
"Lucy's."
"Can I have a milkshake?" Jett pleaded.
"Yes."
"Me too?" Billy asked, mad he hadn't said it first.
"Of course." Carol came out to the car, which was now chilled from the working AC.
"Thank goodness," she said, putting her face before the blowing vent. "This feels wonderful." Kyle pulled out of the driveway and headed for their favorite diner.
"What are we going to do about the AC?" Carol asked.
"Buy a new one," Kyle answered. "After supper, we'll go to a big box store and buy one. If I can get the old one working, we'll put that one upstairs."
At Lucy's, they sat at a booth and ordered their shakes, burgers, and fries. Now that their bellies were full and they had cooled off, everyone seemed less tense.
"Let's get an air conditioner," Kyle said as they piled back into the car. Billy and Jett whooped in excitement until they got into the back seat of the car.
"Ouch!" Jett screamed. The black interior of the car seat was as hot as the sun, and it scalded the backs of his legs.
"Sorry, Champ. I should have started the car before we got out here." He pulled out of the parking lot and headed for Chemmy's Wholesale. Kyle was smart about parking in the lot, backing into the spot closest to the front door in anticipation of purchasing the new air conditioner. Less distance to carry it.
"May I help you?" the salesman asked, standing with his shirt unbuttoned several buttons and the gold necklace he wore hanging down his chest. His sideburns were full and bushy, and his smile was pleasant and well-worn like a Cheshire Cat.
"We need an air conditioner," Kyle said, walking over to the display area, which advertised a SALE in large letters, but there was only one air conditioner on the shelf.
"That one is a good choice. The model is being replaced, and this is the last model in the store. In anticipation of the new arrivals, we are selling it at a deep discount." Kyle, ever the dealmaker, walked around the model, pushing buttons and turning dials.
"Is there a better deal you can offer?" he asked the salesman. Kyle could never take the last item nor the first deal. He liked to haggle.
"No, there isn't in this price range. If you buy the more expensive model, I can take a few dollars off that," the salesman offered, his smile even bigger. He obviously sold on commission.
"We didn't want to go much more than this," Carol said, flashing her husband a "look." His wife kept the books, so she knew what they could and couldn't afford.
"I guess we'll take this one," Kyle resigned himself. There would be no wheeling and dealing today. He paid for the unit, and the salesman put it back into a box.
Kyle grunted as he picked up the unit. Carol went to hold the door as he walked across the store toward the car. Some jerk smashed into the front door, pushing Carol against the wall. He was wearing a face mask on the hottest day of the year.
"Stick your hands in the air. Give me your money and no one gets hurt." Kyle froze. If he put the unit on the floor, he wouldn't be able to pick it up again.
The salesman opened the cash register and pulled out the money, handing it to the robber, who put it in his bag. The robber turned to Kyle.
"I said put your hands up!" Kyle was frozen. He didn't move, and the robber shot him as he ran out the door.
"Kyle!" Carol screamed. Billy and Jett came running. Coolant sprayed out of the unit while Kyle shakily lowered the air conditioner to his feet.
"I'm okay, Carol. The air conditioner took the bullet for me." The salesman was already on the phone calling the cops. Kyle's whole body shook as he tried to calm himself, drawing his family in for a group hug. "I thought I was a goner," he cried. He looked down at the unit. It had been destroyed.
"The police are on the way," the salesman told him.
"What about the air conditioner?" Kyle asked him.
"That was your unit. You bought it, paid in full. There is no warranty for gunshots; I'm afraid that it's out of my hands," the salesman said.
"I was shot at while in your store. Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Kyle's temperature was rising, and his fist shook in the salesman's face.
"Sorry, man. I can ask for a deep discount on one of the other models from the store manager."
"That's what you are offering me?" Spittle flew from Kyle's mouth onto the salesman's face.
"Hands up!" shouted the police officer. Everyone's hands went up. The salesman, Jett, Billy, and Carol all put their hands up. Kyle was still squared off with the salesman.
"I said, put your hands up." The officer said with more gusto.
"Kyle, listen to the officer!" Carol shouted at her husband. "Please, officer, that's my husband. The robber just shot at him; the bullet hit our new air conditioner. I think he's in shock."
"It's not our air conditioner, Carol. I've decided not to buy this hunk of junk; give me my money back." Kyle held his hand out to the salesman.
"I'm sorry, I gave all the money to the robber. I sold you a perfectly good unit, and I can't take this hunk of junk in return. In fact, you should be thanking me for saving your life." Kyle flew over the countertop and grabbed the salesman, and the officer grabbed Kyle.
"You're going to jail, Mr." They slapped handcuffs on him. Jett and Billy stared at their dad in shock while Carol begged for the car keys before they took Kyle away.
"Kyle, honey, we are following you. Come on, kids, let's get your dad."
"Wait, Lady, what about your air conditioner?"
"Are you kidding me?" Carol pushed the boys out the door. "Boys get in the car."
"Ouch!" screamed Billy; the black leather seats got him again.
"Mom, will Dad go to jail?" Jett asked.
"I hope not, honey; we just need to tell our side of the story."
They pulled up to the police station, and Carol was on the phone calling their lawyer.
"I'll be right down, Carol. Don't say a word!"
"I won't, but they are booking Kyle right now; I hope he remembers to wait for representation."  Carol walked to the front desk.
"I'm here for my husband, Kyle Woodbridge."
"They are booking him now, Mrs. Woodbridge."
"On what charge? He was shot during a robbery attempt at Chemmy's Wholesale. Why is he being arrested? He is the victim."
"Ma'am, I'm not at liberty to say I don't know what's happening. If you and the boys want to have a seat, please wait over there." He pointed to chairs along the wall. Carol motioned to her sons to sit, and they did.
John Prudent, their attorney, arrived, went to the front desk, spoke with the sergeant, and then came to talk with Carol and the boys. Carol gave him the best account of what happened: that the store refused to take back the merchandise after the robber shot the air conditioner. John couldn't believe what she was telling him.
"Mr. Prudent?"
"That's me."
"I understand you are representing Kyle Woodbridge?"
"Yes, I am."
"Please come with me." John squeezed Carol's shoulder with reassurance and walked through the door.
"Mom, how long are we going to wait for him?"
"I don't know, honey, but we won't leave until we know what will happen to him." They sat; Carol pulled out her phone and put a movie on for the boys to watch while she watched everything around her.
"That's him!" Carol shouted when the robber was brought into the precinct. "That's the guy who robbed Chemmy's Warehouse and shot my husband." The man scowled at her, and the police moved him through the door.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to take a seat. They are assessing the situation now." The salesman from Chemmy's walked in.
"I'm here to identify a man who robbed my store."
"I already did that for you." Carol huffed in his face.
"Please have a seat," the officer behind the desk told him. The salesman looked uncomfortable and took a seat across the room. Carol continued to give him the stink eye, and he had the decency to look down at the floor. An hour went by before the attorney came out.
"They are releasing him now." Mr. Prudent told them
"Thank God." Carol sighed in relief.
"He's not out of the woods yet, but when the robber who shot at him came in, that allayed their fears that Kyle was his partner."
"Oh, good grief!" Carol threw up her hands. The door opened, Kyle came out, and the salesman was asked to come in.
"Kyle!" Carol ran to her husband. He picked up his things from the front desk. She handed him his keys; it was eleven o'clock, and it was still eighty-nine degrees with high humidity.
Kyle wiped the sweat from his face and started the car. Carol got in front, and the boys in back. He twisted the air conditioning on full blast.
"Ouch!" Jett screamed; he was the only one in shorts. "I got burned again."
"Sorry, Champ, should have started the car before we came out. I'm distracted."
"Are we going to get the air conditioner now?" Jett asked
"Chemmy's Warehouse is closed now. All the stores are closed."
"But we don't have air conditioning at our house," wailed Jett, then started to cry, shouting, "Summer sucks!"
No one disagreed with the kid.