by P. S. Power
Lisa must be a really trusting person, to tell him he could use the money in the till. He hoped to earn that trust, even if she seemed to give it freely already. Maybe he could pick something up when he got paid or borrow something from Troy later? An old radio would be better than nothing.
In a box under the counter there were some pieces of fabric that could be used for the window display. They all held a fine trace of intent, as if used in some kind of ritual magic or something, which made sense, what with the circle hidden under the rug in back. Still, taking a nice piece of black velvet and shaking it well, he removed all traces of that from it and had a serviceable piece of material to use, possibly by putting some decorative candles on it?
Looking for some nice candles, maybe with decorations or glitter or something, he found what seemed to be a pretty comprehensive incense section. Disordered and messy, but with a good selection of nearly a hundred different scents. Taking a bundle of something fruit scented with cinnamon, that claimed to be apple spice blend, and a stone incense holder he added this to the display as well. If the fire code allowed for it, they could have incense going to attract customers maybe. People liked it when things smelled nice, didn't they? He'd have to look into that first. After the last job, and what had happened there he had a strong feeling that he might be on the fire department's watch list.
As the clock on the wall neared nine, a small parade of people started walking past. Two very large men. A striking woman that made sexually suggestive movements somehow while outwardly only walking, and a very nicely dressed man in a very expensive looking suit. He looked about forty, but that stately kind of forty that played well in movies or on television shows.
As he looked in the front window, Zack recognized the man for what he was. He'd seen that kind before, on several memorable, and dark, occasions. A lot of them locked away behind the wall of things he tried not to think about. Things that made him feel weak and a little sick to contemplate at all. The man was like his father.
Looking normal on the outside like they all did. Inside however he had a dense black object, distinctive to Zack's sight. When he locked eyes with the man, a demon looked back at him.
A Demon.
He really didn't like Demons.
Chapter two
Zack didn't sleep well that night. Not that he'd expected to. That really wasn't a thing that was going to happen. Not after having seen that... thing. Out in public, with good, if strange people like it had been. Looking at him. Planning to...
Zack didn't know, but really would like to never find out, if he had a chance. Demons were the worst kind of being imaginable. As a rule he tried not to, but now he had visions popping into his head, unbidden.
Dreams about Shadows, mainly. Huge things that danced on the edge of reality and told him stuff he couldn't really understand and didn't want to know. Things he had to learn, in order to survive. Knowledge locked away in his mind by the biggest Shadow, that now hinted he could remember them if he tried.
Like he'd do something as stupid as that? Zack had worked hard to forget those things, and didn't want to undo all that effort.
Finally awake again, by a very early seven in the morning, he forced thoughts of such things out of his head.
Over the years he had gotten pretty good at that part. All he had to do was pretend everything was normal, he reminded himself. Don't cause a scene, and don't notice things you aren't supposed to. He'd finally internalized that, after years of torment. If he could do that then everything else would take care of itself.
So far it hadn't worked too well, really, but it had kept him out of the funny farm. Mostly.
He got up and made a pack of ramen. He hadn't gotten anything to eat when he got home the night before, so was more famished than normal. Demons had a tendency to throw a guy for a loop and kill the appetite after all. At least Zack always found that to be the case. So ramen for breakfast. Better than starving. When he got paid, if he had any money left after paying his part of the rent and utilities, he'd have to go shopping. Maybe get something with a vegetable in it. Broccoli possibly, or carrots. His mouth watered a little at the thought. More than anyone should over things that just grew in the ground, but he hadn't had either of those in... Over a year, he thought.
Since it was so early Troy hadn't gone to bed yet. The thin and good looking guy was sitting on the sofa with a game controller in his hand instead, like usual for this time of day. Even after a full night of work he seemed dapper and well groomed. It would have been annoying if the man wasn't so cool about it all.
Screwing up a bit of courage, since he didn't want to ask his buddy for anything else, after everything, Zack made himself speak.
“Hey, um, Troy, could I borrow some clothes for work?” Zack walked into the living room. “I don't really have much that's nice enough.”
“Yo! Whoa! Wait... you have a job now? Tell me all about it, buddy! When, where, how and are the chicks hot?” Troy didn't look away from the video game on the screen, not on the surface, but his Shadow self stared, waiting for an answer. Smiling too, since Troy was nice that way. He almost always showed kindness, even down to the bottom level of being. It actually showed a bit less on the surface, and at that level he was still pretty darned great.
“Yeah, I got it yesterday, it's at the Underwood mall. A clerk position at Candles and More. It's nothing special as jobs go really, I guess. Full time with optional overtime, so I should be able to pay my part of the rent finally. I do think you'd find the women hot enough, yes. I probably shouldn't tell you, since you'll seduce her before I get a chance to even make friends, but my boss is a total hottie. A MILF?” Zack smiled as Troy hit pause on the game.
“Hey, don't sweat the rent bro... I think I have some things that could work, clothing wise for you, at least until you get some new stuff and all. For today how about the purple silk shirt, black slacks and belt and...do you think you need a tie?” He moved past him quickly headed toward his bedroom to get the clothes. Zack knew he should just wait and let him grab things. Troy's bedroom had a tendency to be disturbing for him.
Probably due to the slightly warped presentation of his sexual identity. Troy thought he should be a player and have a lot of women, at least consciously, when what he truly wanted had more to do with attention and love. This coupled with hours and hours of internet porn skewed things in there in an unpleasant fashion. At least to Zack. He'd noticed a few of the women Troy had brought home having similar reactions to it, even if the room looked normal on the surface.
That and Troy tended to be a little messy in there. Alcohol bottles and magazines scattered around, mainly. Not dirty as much as cluttered and disorganized.
He knew all of this about his roommate in an unusual fashion. For Zack's world at least. Troy had told him, when they'd first met. Normally things like that came from a person's inner self, their subconscious being that interacted with others all the time, if invisibly to the conscious mind of most people. Troy had a rare ability to actually admit to himself what he thought on the deeper levels. This internal honesty made it far easier for Zack to live with the man. It wasn't perfect all the time, but he was the best being that way that Zack had ever met. Better than that, he was a good person. On every level.
“I don't think I need a tie... Do you think I need a tie? I'm not sure, but I think I may get to make up my own dress code for this job...”
Troy came back with the shirt, slacks and belt.
“I just hope they treat you well at this one. That last place bit donkey balls...How are you getting there? That place is what, fifteen miles from here? Are you taking the bus?” The body language clearly offered to help with a ride. Even if it would cost extra for gas to take him each day.
Zack just grinned.
“I have a great shortcut. It actually makes this kind of convenient really.”
“You and your shortcuts... Don't be too proud to ask for a ride if you need it, all right man? I'm tired, but not so tired
I can't get you off to work...” He gave a very pointed look. “You try to do too much by yourself sometimes, you know? Let other people in every now and again. I'm here for you, just say the word...”
“Nah, I'm good. But I do need to hit the shower before I go and I better get moving because I need to get there to open at nine.” As he walked to the bathroom he could hear Troy whistle behind him.
“Seriously? You work there one day and they let you set the dress code and open? I needs to gets me a job like that! At my job it's all, 'follow the list of rules, Troy', 'don't ogle the women,
Troy', 'don't beg for tips on hands and knees, Troy'... Well, I'm back to my game unless I'm needed for anything?” His attention had gone back to the game already.
It was some kind of fantasy thing where you took turns killing monsters, because they were there. Zack had tried to play it a little, but the encoded deep messages were too distracting. The romance sub-plot had elements of three different programmer's failed relationships for instance. They'd turned it into a wish fulfillment fantasy, with magic and heroism, that seemed nice enough on the surface, but grated on the deeper levels. Tendrils of despair, wafting out of the old color television that sat on a worn out kitchen chair in their living room.
He preferred books. They still had all of those kinds of things in them, bits of the author that clung to the printed pages decades or even centuries later. The pacing of those signals were controllable however, if it got too intense, he could just stop reading for a while and come back to it later. Television and video games just pounded you with those deeply embedded things, all the time. Most people not even noticing it most likely. There was no real way to control the effect either. You either watched them or turned it off. He always wondered how other people managed to handle it, even just getting the messages on a subconscious level.
Taking a shower and shaving, and using a little borrowed toothpaste so that his breath had minty fresh appeal, got him almost ready. That plus the borrowed clothes and old tennis shoes got him to a state that probably seemed a bit run down and scuzzy, but hopefully showed that he was making an effort. It would sure be nice when he could afford deodorant again. Zack really felt self-conscious without it, even after having just climbed out of the shower. Like he was carrying a cloud of foul odor with him everywhere he went.
“Hey, I'm off to work then. I don't know when I'll be back. Lisa, my boss, said she may not be in today, not until late, so I may be there all day long. Or not. I kind of hope so, because I could use the overtime. We'll see. Later!”
“Later, man! Have as much fun as you can get away with.” Troy threw his hand up in a retro “Peace” hand gesture that he thought made him look cool. Zack couldn't tell if it did or not. The idea of “cool” being a hard one for him to follow. It seemed like just another social control mechanism to him, requiring people to follow rules in order to fit in. Ones that no one could even be bothered to write down. Which he'd gladly do himself, if he could figure out what those rules were. The idea of him being popular made Zack laugh a bit. He might also grow wings and fly, if he tried hard enough.
Timing the trip for future reference, the walk from his front door through the shortcut, and across the parking lot to the store took two and a half minutes. He could probably make it in less than half that if he ran. So he could go home to eat if he needed to, in a pinch. At least if he ever got a fifteen minute break or even had another body in the place to watch the front. Good to know.
He used the key Lisa had given him and switched the plastic sign to say “Yes, We're Open!” by flipping the card. Zack had a feeling that Lisa often just left it turned to the side saying “Sorry, We're Closed” based on the faded character on that side, compared to the clean look of the open side. He found the master light panel easily enough, having used it the night before. Right next to the broom and supply closet still. Things like wiring rarely changed too radically from day to day, luckily.
Some things did. Everyone else just ignoring them when they moved or shifted. Keys left in a basket by a door would end up in the fridge, and people make up stories about how they must have put them there. Socks vanished, which most people only noticed because they came in a set leaving them with one as a reminder, and people made jokes about it. All so that they didn't have to think about where they'd really gone.
He decided to give the store a quick sweep, the idea being that cleaning was easier if you keep up with it. As he ran the broom over the floor, he noticed that the same girl that had watched him the day before seemed to be at the YoGurt stand again today. Maybe he'd get to talk to her sometime. After all, she'd pointed out where he needed to go for a job, sort of. He could thank her... somehow. Maybe see if she wanted to be friends or something. Excluding Troy he, didn't have any of those, but it might be nice to get one, he thought, if anyone could put up with him.
Trying to be sociable he waved to her with a smile, expecting her to ignore him again. This time she waved back, looking a little surprised it seemed. As if she expected him to be mean or unfriendly? That would be silly. She had control over all of that YoGurt. Whatever that was. It sounded like it might be food however, and that made her infinitely interesting.
He busied himself cleaning for about half an hour, when someone finally came through the door. The man seemed harried. That meant his candle needs must be pressing, Zack understood. His skin was white, pale white, as if someone had just tried to kill him, or planned to in the next few moments. That seemed to be the case, focusing a little, Zack step sideways for half a second, just enough to hear what the man was actually saying on the deep level. It was all about him being killed. Apparently for real. Goody. That wouldn't make a mess all over his floor, would it?
“Hi! How can I hel-” Zack managed before the man shouted over him.
“I am a full member of the guild in good standing and I demand asylum and aid!” While he said this, nearly screaming it in fact, his inner self kept chanting Help me, help me!
At nearly the same moment a whip thin man with tattoos on both forearms, one of a snake, stormed through the door, making it creak ominously as he slammed it shut. “Willet!”
The second man's Shadow self, more solid than most people's at the moment, poked out in the form of a snake and hissed "I kill you!"
It has a hissing quality to it. That fit though, so Zack just nodded a little, trying to take everything in.
The inner snake pointed more toward Willet, presumably the other man, more than at himself. At least he hoped this happened to be the case. The thin man looked and felt dangerous to Zack. Like a criminal. Not a killer maybe, but the kind that would hurt a person for real if they had to.
Going with his normal plan, he decided to pretend this kind of thing happened all the time. Maybe it did here? How would he know, being the new guy? So Zack smiled brightly on all levels of being, still standing “sideways” so he could see everything, and tried to pretend he knew what was needed. After all, maybe the place didn't sell drugs at all and did this instead... whatever this turned out to be. Murder negotiations?
Well, as long as they didn't make a mess, he'd deal.
“Hello! Welcome to Candles and More. I take it neither of you has come for our wonderful array of candles or incense? Is there something else I can be of aid in, gentlemen?” He held up a hand to stop them from both talking at once. “No, let me speak first, I think. We can resolve this faster that way. You, Willet is it? You've claimed asylum here. Why?” And who, Zack wondered, wanted asylum in a candle store? He didn't mention that part out loud. People thought he was insane, but this really seemed odd. Had he just missed that part about small shops in general? Really, he'd thought that it was only embassies and churches that did that.
“Well...” He began to say before Zack waved him to silence.
“No, don't speak out loud, just stand there. I'm talking to a different part of you. Now, why?”
Surface Willet stood there dumbfounded, while Shadow Willet spilled forth
with the truth.
I had this job, see, and needed a snake man to get through the ducts. I promised him half of what we took, but then got greedy and thought I could claim we got a lot less than we did, only he found out and now he wants to kill me. I probably deserve it, but it really is a lot of money...
“Okay, now you, what do you have to say about this?” He pointed at the other man. “First, actually, what's your name?”
Impressively, the man just stood there, still seething, but not talking as far as the surface went. Silas. His snake self hissed as it shifted under his skin.
“Okay, Silas, please tell me your side of this.” Zack noted that Silas barely batted an eye when he said his name like that. Either being used to strange things in general, like Zack, or he didn't want to anger the obviously crazy man making things up about him. Either way, it made the situation easier to deal with by far, winning the man brownie points with Zack already.
I got called into a gig by this guy. A heist, and we must of taken a half million cold. Half of that's mine, but he claimed we got twenty thousand and said I should be happy to get ten! So now I'll just kill him and take it all!
Zack looked directly at Willet on the surface and did something he rarely did on the second level, turning his attention toward Silas he said, Calm down now. You'll get your money and win this, but only if you calm down this instant!
Silas relaxed suddenly enough that Willet took a half step back. Probably expecting the other man to attack or something. After a moment he grinned, his deeper-self pumping his fist, realizing that he might live through the day.
“So, Willet... How much did you two take on this job?” He asked casually, almost as if he had grown bored with this.
“Twenty-thou...” He started speaking again out loud, causing Silas to tense back up suddenly. Zack raised a hand for silence, and felt a little surprised when it worked. For some reason these two men who looked pretty hard bitten, were taking direction from him. A twenty-two year old goof-ball, that looked even younger than that to most people, as if they were supposed to or something.
