The Pursuit of Other Interests: A Novel by Jim Kokoris Page A

line of customers there when he first entered the store, but no one was waiting now. A kindly-looking butcher with a ruddy complexion and carefully combed white hair eyed him as he approached.
    “Can I help you?” he asked.
    Charlie looked around, smiled. “I have a rather unusual question for you,” he said.
    The butcher took a small step back. “Okay.”
    Charlie chuckled nervously. “Well, it’s not that unusual.” He moved closer and tried to keep his voice down. “What is the cheapest kind of meat you have? The absolute cheapest, now.”
    “Cheapest?”
    “Rock-bottom. The cheapest.”
    “Well…” the man looked a tad embarrassed. “I’d have to say the chicken necks.” He pointed vaguely toward the glass meat case that separated them.
    “Chicken necks. Really? What are they? I mean, are they actual, you know, chicken necks?”
    “Yes. I think that’s why they’re called that.”
    “Boy, I didn’t know chickens even had necks. I mean, I never thought about it.”
    “I don’t know why you would,” the butcher said.
    Charlie paused. “Chicken necks. Absolute cheapest, now?”
    “Yes.”
    “Absolute cheapest.” Charlie considered this. “How do you prepare them? Do you eat them like chicken legs? I mean, I never see them at Kentucky Fried Chicken.”
    “People make soup out of them.”
    This intrigued Charlie. Soup was nutritious and they could make a lot of it, maybe enough to last for several years. “Oh, chicken neck soup. Is that what they call it?”
    “I don’t think they call it that.”
    “What do they call it, then?”
    “I’m not sure.” The butcher glanced over Charlie’s shoulder and wet his lips. He kept smiling, though. “Would you like some necks?”
    Charlie fell silent. He didn’t think he was quite at that point yet. Buying chicken necks was a statement, an admission, that he wasn’t ready to make. “No, not this time.”
    “Are you sure?” The man scanned Charlie’s cart and saw all the cheap and barely FDA-approved items. “I can give them to you if you like.”
    “Give them to me? What do you mean? You mean for free? Free chicken necks?” This offer and the sincere, hopeful way it was presented greatly saddened him. Like Rafael, this man was a truly decent human. Charlie had had no idea there were so many decent human beings out there, just walking around, giving away free chicken necks. He had spent too much time in advertising, a soulless profession. “No, no. I couldn’t do that. No, no. But thank you. You’re a very kind, very decent person.”
    The butcher was embarrassed. He puffed his cheeks out and nodded.
    “I don’t want the chicken necks,” Charlie said.
    “Are you sure? Won’t take me a minute.”
    Charlie waved at him. “No, no. I don’t know how to make soup anyway. I’ll take some pork chops instead.”
    “Pork chops?”
    “Yeah. Some cheap ones. Thin ones. Doesn’t matter. Just as long as they’re safe to eat.”
    The butcher looked relieved. He snapped his fingers. “We have some on sale,” he said, eagerly reaching for them.
    Charlie paid for the groceries in cash, then quickly made his way back to the Navigator. Despite the depressing exchange over the chicken necks, he felt good about his shopping experience. It was a step in the right direction. A start. Even after he got a new job, he vowed to adhere to the spirit, if not the bottom line, of the New Frugality. There was no excuse for the way they had been living; no excuse for Cheerios when Tasty O’s would do.
    Since he was in no hurry to get back, he decided to take the long way home. He made his way down one side street and then another, drinking in the evening and enjoying the homes with their winding brick driveways and sweeping lawns. While driving, he experienced an unexpected sense of well-being. He had lived in Wilton for more than four years and had never simply driven around, enjoying the neighborhood, his neighborhood, the one he had worked so hard to