The man looked at him. Then he did something Kurt did not expect, which was to laugh, a short, astonished, joyless sound, like air let out of a tire.
"Taking out," he said.
"Sir—"
"Taking out." He kept one arm around his daughter and with the other hand reached slowly, very slowly, into the back pocket of his work pants, watching Kurt the whole time. "I'm getting my wallet. All right? It's my wallet." He drew it out, a worn brown leather billfold gone pale at the fold, and opened it, and took out a long strip of curled white paper that had been folded into the money pocket. He held it out at arm's length.
Kurt did not take it right away. The man did not lower it.
"Go on," the man said. "Read it. And then pick up a can. Any of them. Look at the bottom."
Kurt took the receipt. It was thermal paper, the kind that faded in sunlight, still crisp. BAYVIEW OUTLET GROCERY, 4410 6TH AVE, TACOMA WA. 10/08/26 3:22 PM. REG 4 TRANS 0817. And then the items, in that cramped capital-letter shorthand all grocery receipts used, as if the store were being charged by the letter.
PROGRESSO SPLT PEA HAM 2 @ 1.39
BUMBLE BEE PINK SALMN 2.49
LIPTON BLK TEA 100CT 3.99