The Tune Brothers

There are events in our lives which although insignificant, hauntingly play themselves again and again in our minds. It was some thirty odd years ago that the automatic doors of the grocery store swung open and the Tune Brothers paraded into my life.

The two young boys were dressed in the mod clothes of the day. One carried a gigantic boom box playing a James Brown hit at considerable volume. As shoulders, and hips, and feet moved in time with the music, they strutted down the aisle of the store, trance like, seemingly oblivious to their surroundings.

A senior couple stood open mouthed and turned as the brothers moved past. The assistant manager ran from his office to see the pair swagger down aisle one. The checkers and bag boys stopped to watch.

At the far end of the aisle they turned and paraded past the fresh meat showcases. The assistant manager trailed twenty feet behind to see that shoplifting was not their motive. Customers moved aside to watch the parade go by.

After completing the square the boys moved out the door, never breaking rhythm, never acknowledging another being. Fifty pair of eyes followed them out, then looked at each other for an explanation. It was then one of the bag boys gave them that name, Tune Brothers.

In the months that followed the Tune Brothers came back to the store several times a week. Their routine never varied. The three of them, for the assistant manager always followed, made the same circuit. Speaking to no one, and seeing no one, they exited the door and left.

Eventually the manager no longer followed and at times even smiled as they came in. The checkers and bag boys hardly looked up and murmured, “Tune Brothers” for the benefit of customers who hadn’t witnessed the spectacle before.

Then one day we realized that we had not seen them in several months. They were gone from our lives forever and easily forgotten with the problems of balancing cash to the register tapes, picking up canned goods from burst bags, correcting the prices on tomato soup cans.

And yet, after thirty years, the Tune Brothers still emerge from my subconscious and strut down the aisles of my memories.

Story ID:	1606
Written by:	Dick Dunlap (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Musings, Essays and Such
Location:	Beloit Wisconsin USA
Year:	1976