All Nickolas needs is a gallon of milk from the store.
It’s nine at night. Nick drags his feet through the mud and manages to get into the car. His legs ache from the twenty-hour shift. The images of his pregnant wife and his terminally ill sister motivate him to continue with these long shifts. He knows they depend on him. His phone vibrates.
“Don’t forget to pick up a gallon of milk,” Julie, his wife, says.
“Absolutely, how’s Caron doing?” Nickolas asks.
“She’s asleep. I can’t believe she’s going to be seven years old tomorrow. Hopefully she likes the party that we throw for her.”
“I think she will.”
“I’ll see you soon right?”
“Absolutely, I’m heading over to the store now.”
“See you soon. I love you.”
“I love you too.”

Strolling through the aisle, he finds the milk. He takes it up to the cash register where the young brunette stands. Her name tag reads Emily.
“Is this all sir?” Emily says.
“Yes,” Nickolas says.
“Two dollars and fifty-two cents.”
The clock strikes 10:52p.m. It only takes one moment. One second. One hit. One time. Three guys, wearing all black, storm into the store, all wearing Obama masks. Nickolas could see the revolvers in their greasy hands. The few women scream at the sight of the robbers. One drops a jar of dill pickles, which shatters into little pieces.
“GET ON THE GROUND,” says the tallest one in the group of three.
The other two run down the aisle making sure no one escaped the store. Nickolas slowly drops down to the floor.
“Everyone crawl to form a line now.”
The tall one shoots his gun at a light in the ceiling. Sparks fly from it.
One by one he strip-searches everyone, taking: cellphones, wallets, car keys, jewelry and tosses them into a center pile. Nickolas lay at the end of the line. Waiting to be violated like the rest of the group, Nickolas looks into the man eyes. He pulls out his wallet.
“Nickolas Benjamin Gessel.”
“Yes. That is my name.”
“Let me ask you something,” the man says. “Do you like Barack Obama?”
“Yes.”
He grabs Nickolas and pins the gun close to his face.
“I know what we can do for you.”
He restrains Nickolas as he picks him up and pushes him towards the glass windows. Nickolas knows he is in for a long night and all he can think about is his beautiful wife and sister and the child he might not ever get to meet.
***

Caron lay in bed. She’s hooked up to different color wires: each doing a job to keep her little body alive. Her sister-in-law, Julie, sits right beside her, kisses her forehead.
“I love you,” Julie whispers.
Julie exits the room and makes a phone call to Nickolas. The phone rings three times.
“Hey, it’s getting late. I thought you would be here by now. I can feel the baby kicking around in my stomach. Call me back whenever you can,” Julie says.
She walks back into the room to find Caron awake.
“Honey, why don’t you try to get some sleep?” Julie says.
“I…can’t. Something is wrong, Julie.”
Julie takes a seat on the bed and brushes her hand against Caron’s cheek.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can’t explain it. I just feel something is wrong and different.”
“Well your big brother should be here soon to see you. Try to get some rest and I’ll wake you up as soon as he gets here.”
Caron closes her eyes. When Julie hears Caron snoring, she quietly exits the room, heading over to a waiting lounge where she turns on the news. The image of the grocery store where she and Nickolas go all the time is surrounded by cops. Julie sees the image of a human figure press up against the glass windows of the store. The bottom of the screen reads ‘Obama-robber in action at local Weis.’ The image clears up on the screen. Julie throws up in the trashcan and passes out.

***
The three Obama-masked men start beating on Nickolas. He falls to the floor. Bruises form all over his collarbone and face. Blood drips from his nose.
“Please stop,” Nickolas whispers.
After a few moments, they stop beating on him. He starts choking on blood and spits his tooth out on the floor. The store phone rings non-stop but no one picks it up.
“Listen up!” The tallest one said, “All small children, women, are allowed to leave. Men have to stay.”
A few women and small children exit the store and six men, including Nickolas, still lay on the floor.
“Who likes Obama?” the tallest asks.
“I don’t!” said one of the six men. He stands up.
The two other guys drag him into Aisle Two and all Nickolas can see is the terror in his eyes and the gun barrel between his eyes. He hears the collapse of someone dropping to the floor.
“Rocky doesn’t like it when people stand up to him,” said the shortest Obama whose blonde hair pokes from the bottom of the mask. She walks over and kisses the tallest one, Rocky, with the masks on.
“Not here, Cindy. Save it for later.” Rocky says. He gently usher her behind him. “Who works for the government?”
Nickolas and two other people raise their hands. Cindy drags the non-government people and shoves them out the door where the police escort them to the side.
Cindy and the other Obama pick up the two other people.
“What do you do for our government?” Rocky says.
“I’m-I’m a mailman,” the old man says.
“I’m just a secretary for the senator,” the guy in the pajama bottoms pants says.
Cindy and the other Obama drag the mailman and secretary to the back of the store. Nickolas can hear the screams and then nothing. They walk back to the front of the store where Nickolas lay on the ground.
“Now time for my big finale,” Rocky says
Cindy and the other Obama grab Nickolas as he tries to fight them. The gun aims straight at Nickolas’s head. He can smell the dill pickles that lay on the floor. His mind travels back to the meadow where Julie looked so beautiful. The day he proposed to the love of his life. He says a quick prayer and whispers, “I’ll always love you,” before his body hits the floor.