To Rock there was nothing abnormal or surprising about this onion, even though it was the size of a basketball. It was exactly what he'd hoped to find when he walked into the supermarket. His plan was to come back later to buy it. He of course realized this did not fall into any ordinary grocery-store protocol, but began to look for a place to hide it. He finally decided on a spot on the floor adjacent to the display case that held all of the other onions, where he covered it with a large burlap sack.
Satisfied that he had adequately disguised the onion, Rock walked to the register to pay for a twelve-pack of soda pop. He saw a friend there from the Little Rock Hash House Harriers named Lacey, and as they stood in line he noticed she was holding a pack of cigarettes. She was a runner he had known for years, disciplined as an athlete in every way. He couldn't imagine her smoking. "Lacey, you don't smoke, do you?" he said.
Lacey explained that the pack was for someone she worked with. Rock was doubtful, but let the subject drop.
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