Sunday, April 8, 2007

Short Story: The Store

“Why is he pacing out there?”

“I don’t know he always does that. Why don’t you go out and ask him?”

“I’m not asking him, but something must be wrong.”

“For a long time.”

The two men just looked out the window in disbelief. They were not unfamiliar with the man pacing ceaselessly in front of their store. Though they were not familiar with him either.

The fact that the same middle-aged man had maintained his odd sidewalk sentry for the past three months had never raised any questions. Maybe the store had always been too busy for anyone to notice. Or maybe it just fit as a part of the fabric of a neighborhood where people still hung about in the streets rather than huddled alone indoors.

Whatever the case, there he was. Appearing daily just after the store opened and disappearing just as it closed. Never once had he ventured inside.

“Doesn’t he have any friends?’

“I suppose I must have seen him talk to someone on occasion.”

“You should go out and talk to him.”

“Why me?’

“You have been here longer than I have.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

The two men stared out the window again. After a while the younger man spoke.

“You could tell Harry.”

The store manager squinted and stroked his hand through thinning slicked back hair.

“You want Harry to think we’re crazy? Why don’t you go out and talk to him?”

“What if he’s dangerous?”

“How could he be dangerous?”

The man continued to pace. Mostly looking down at his feet. Occasionally he looked straight ahead but never did he look in the direction of the store. When the weather was cool he wore a red cardigan sweater. When the weather was warm a pressed white shirt. His grey flannel pants always had a crease. Any guesses would place him anywhere between mid forties to sixty. The pacing never ceased.

Harry Sycamore, the building owner had never seemed to notice. At least he hadn’t mentioned it if he had. But then Harry never said much of anything, unless the phone rang.

“I don’t know why we even care. The customers don’t notice him and it doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

The younger man was growing frustrated.

“Don’t you at least want to know? If a man paced endlessly in front of your house, wouldn’t you ask him why?”

“It’s not my house. Maybe Harry should ask him why.”

“Or call the police.”

“Why?”

“We don’t know him.”

“Would it matter if we did?”

“Yes.”

“And if a man who was your friend was pacing out in front of the store, would you ask him why?”

“Yes I would.”

“But you won’t ask this man?’

“Maybe I could get his attention. Make him look this way.”

The store manager shrugged his shoulders.

The younger man stepped towards the door his eyes trained on the man in the cardigan. He opened the door and stepped out in front of the store. He took a couple of steps forward and stopped. He waited. The store manager looked on in curiosity.

The man in the cardigan continued his rhythm back and forth. Once he looked off into the distance, but never back at the clerk or the store.

The younger man stormed back inside.

“This is pointless. I’m calling the police.”

“And tell them what?”

“About him.”

“He’s not dangerous.”

“How do you know?”

“Look at him.”

“So?”

“He’s not dangerous.”

“Why don’t you care? How can you be so casual?”

“It doesn’t affect me.”

“You manage this store.”

“Yes.”

“How long have you been manager here?”

“Six years. Almost seven actually.”

“Well then go out there and talk to him.”

“Since you are so interested I think maybe you should.”

“You’ve been staring out this window as long as I have.”

“So?’

“I’m not the store manager here. I don’t even give a damn about this place. I could quit tomorrow.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“I think your wife might have something to say about it.”

“Fine. Maybe you should try getting married. Or do you think of anyone but yourself?”

“I hired you didn’t I? The store is not busy, and yet I’m not sending you home.”

“I’ve got an idea. He always leaves when we close the store right? The store isn’t busy, why don’t we close up for a while. We’ll go and grab a bite and come back in an hour. We’ll see what he does. Does he leave? Or does he stay?”

“You’re crazy.”

“Come on Victor, what do we have to lose. The store’s not even busy.”

“And what if Harry comes by?”

“You can blame it on me. Say I got sick and you had to take me to the hospital. You didn’t know what else to do.”

The store manager mulled it over. He looked back out the window at the pacing man.

“Alright we’ll close up, but only for a while. One hour. When he sees us leave, he’ll think we’re done for the day. And then he’ll do what he always does. Then we can get back to business and not have to bother with this anymore.”

The younger man was lost in his thoughts.

“Okay?”

The younger man looked up.

“Great I’ll get the keys.”

“Wait, we’ll leave in separate directions and meet in that restaurant around the corner. That way he won’t just think we’re stepping out to pick something up for the store.”

The two men turned off all the lights and placed the “closed” sign in the window. They locked the door and went their separate directions.

An hour later they started back to the store.

“What do we do if he’s still there?”

“He won’t be.”

“But what if he is?”

“Then you’re going to talk to him.”

“You should talk to him.”

“Alright we’re getting close.”

The two men turned the corner to find that the man had gone.

“It worked! See I told you it would work. I can’t believe it. Alright now for sure the next time he shows up I’m going to talk to him.”

The store manager just shook his head and unlocked the door. The men placed the “open” sign in the window and turned all the lights back on.

Within five minutes of their return, they received their first customer of the afternoon. A teenager looking for cigarettes. While the younger man tended to the customer, the store manager looked back out the window. The man in the cardigan had not returned.

“Why did you guys close up so early?”

“Oh, we had to pick up a few things.”

“When I came up I thought I was going to have to come back later. Then I saw you unlock the door.”

The young clerk reached behind the counter for the cigaretttes. He turned to face the barrel of a revolver.

“Now you can just go ahead and empty that register.”

Both the clerk and the store manager froze.

“I don’t want to make this difficult. Give me the money, now.”

The young clerk was too scared to move. The man’s patience ran out.

“I said give it to me!”

The man attempted to grab the young clerk by the collar, while the store manager made a move for the gun. The man pulled back, he fired a shot into the young man’s chest. The store manager ducked to the floor.

The man leaned over the counter and took aim at the store manager’s head. Another shot. The man returned to the top of the counter, emptied the cash register and fled.

A customer discovered the bodies of the two men about ten minutes later. Two weeks later, the store re-opened and Harry hired a new manager. An enterprising young man, who vowed not only to step up the business but security as well.

He was a good store manager with many return customers. Business was good and two new employees were hired.

There was only one question on the store manager’s mind as he opened the store each morning and closed it at night. Who was that odd man who paced in front of the store?


Jason Baker


The Store was previously published by Canadian online magazine Ascent Aspirations. Check them out at www.ascentaspirations.ca

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

YO YO. This is kind of creepy! Sooo solid though. Would never have imagined that end. Thought the old man was a serial killer!