by D. M. Guay
Wait. I looked him up and down. Did he not know? Maybe he didn't remember. Kevin seemed unfazed. He pointed a blue leg at Zack and said, “These records are all I got in the world, so hands off. Got it? You got lucky this time.”
Kevin then pressed his four remaining blue legs into the counter and tried to push himself out of the puddle. He didn't budge. He was stuck in there, good. Well, not so much stuck as actually melted. “What did you do to me? Great. Just. Great.”
The bad news: Hunter had sprayed him with demon slay foam, and he was now half roach, half very sticky puddle on the counter. The good news? Kevin was no longer an angry, giant beaver monster, and he had stopped disintegrating. Hunter must not have sprayed him with enough for a full melt.
Kevin pushed and grunted, but it was all for naught.
“Uh, Kevin. Do you know you went full Poltergeist just now?” DeeDee asked.
“Ha ha. Very funny. You and your stupid movies. Give it a rest, will ya? Tell you what. You can borrow my copy of Red Dawn. A little Swayze will do you good. And you. Dog boy. I appreciate the initiative, but you really did a number on me. Grrrr. Rrrrrr.” He pushed and pushed, like he thought his body was just gonna pop out of that puddle. Nope. Not happening. His body was the puddle.
“I am serious. You were almost at hallway mom eater poltergeist level,” DeeDee said.
All Kevin said was, “Whatevs. Hand me my pen. I gotta write all this down. Dumbass here is still on probation, and I gotta be honest, it isn't looking good.”
As he turned to that glitter gel pen, a wave washed over me. My guts roiled with rage. And humiliation. All kinds of things. “YOU!” I jabbed a finger at Zack. “This is all your fault. Not mine. Yours. I am tired of being in trouble. I am tired of being blamed for your mistakes! Go to your room and stay there. Do NOT come out. I don't want to see your face ever again.”
Zack went all right. He ran straight to his room, sobbing and wailing, “Hurrrrrrr. Hurrrrr. Hurrrrrrr. I didn't mean to hurt anybody. Hurrr hurrr hurrrrrrrrr. I can't do anything right. I feel like I'm cursed.”
Yeah. Me, too, buddy. Me. Too.
Chapter 14
When I stepped in on the mat and shook the snow off my shoes, I felt pretty good. Optimistic. Cautiously, considering, but still. Things were on the upswing.
My employee manual was safely contained in my locker, where it couldn't hurt anyone. Zack had been successfully exiled to the zombie cooler. He hadn't shown up at my house in his underpants, and as I looked around, I didn't see any new ghosts.
Yay, me! Now that Zack and my employee manual were contained, I could finally start climbing out of the giant festering poop-filled hole that was my work life.
“I don't know. You're the expert. Sprinkle me with some of your weird salts and magic and shit.”
Doc stood over Kevin, who's back half was still melted into a sticky puddle on the counter.
“It is not that simple, Bug Man. You do not understand!”
“No, you don't understand. Look at me. I'm a puddle. Get me outta here!”
“Be patient. I will do all I can to unstick you.” He raised his nose and sniffed. “You must cross over soon. The whiff of rot is already in the air.”
“Oh, I see. Ha ha, very funny. You calling me rotten. That's rich. You've been recycled more times than I have, and that's saying something.”
“Do not joke about these things,” Doc said. “Life comes with a cost!”
“Don't I know it. Now get to work, old fart. Chop chop. Hey. Where are you going? I'm still stuck!”
Doc stepped away from Kevin, muttering, “The spirits are restless. And annoying. You. New Man. Come here.”
He pulled me over to the hot food station. We ducked, just as an ectoplasmic high heel whizzed past my forehead. Candy was naked on the hot food station, spinning her ectoplasmic assets around a newly installed brass pole.
Because DeeDee had doubled down on that whole, “Ghosts aren't much trouble if you keep them happy” thing, especially after Kevin's broken record incident.
Accommodations had been made, and they were working.
Gunther was good as long as he didn't see or think about doughnuts, so we covered the doughnut case with a trash bag. Problem solved. Glug was fine as long as he was in water and had that squid pool toy. We couldn't salvage his coffee can, so we moved him to a Colossal Super Slurp cup. DeeDee used an envelope and some stickers from the office supply section to make a fake letter for the little old guy.
The pizza guy accepted Monopoly money, as long as there was a little extra for a tip. Hunter? Well, let's just say DeeDee took lots of walks to the nearest tree, and I've been doing a lot of squats. A lot. My thighs were like aching lava. And Candy? She was happy with a stripper pole and some neatly folded dollar bills. The only ghost who wasn't happy was the old lady, because we did not in fact sell Necco Wafers. Because ew. Who even likes that? Nobody under a hundred, that's for sure.
The old lady paced by the two-liter pop bottle pyramid, restless. Until DeeDee sat a tube of something wrapped in wax paper by her feet. The woman saw it and instantly became calmer, more see-through.
Doc whispered, “We could not find real Necco Wafers. I crafted a decoy. The wrapper is filled with slices of pink sidewalk chalk. I believe the woman will be fooled. They taste the same to me.”
“Phew. That was close,” DeeDee walked over to us. “Apparently, the old lady went full Poltergeist today and ripped up the candy aisle. Junebug was not happy. But, we've got a dozen packages of damaged Red Vines in the break room if you want some.”
“This strategy will not last. The signs are clear. We are running out of time,” Doc said. “New Man, you must speak to Zack. Ask him to call the reapers. Do it now.”
They both looked at me. “Me? Why me?”
“You are his closest friend,” Doc said.
“Uh, no. I'm not.”
“Lloyd. Junebug told me he's been crying in his room all day. You should talk to him. I think you really hurt his feelings last night.”
“Sorry. I've got nothing to say to him.”
For real. I was not about to sit around talking about feelings with the angel of death. I don't even talk to myself about my own feelings!
“You must. We are out of options. No living human can contact the Office of Efficient Eternal Soul Transference. We need Zack's help. He is our best chance,” Doc said. “Reapers must come to claim these souls before they spoil.”
“What do you mean spoil?”
“Souls are like food, New Man. Leave them too long, and they go bad. Rotten,” he said. “We must contact the reapers and hope they come quickly. If they do not, we must be prepared. We must take precautions. Happy ghosts do not stay happy for long.”
“Don't listen to him. I've been dead for a week now, and I'm just fine. See? Perfectly normal.” Kevin said that as he grunted and tried to unstick his melted behind from the counter.
Visions of angry beaver Kevin danced in my head. Yeah. I see Doc's point. “Uh, how are we supposed to prepare, exactly?”
“I do not know.”
Great. Just great.
“I will consult my books. And you must consult yours. Both of you and report back.”
“Uh. Any particular book, or...” Please say one of the ones behind the counter. Pretty please.
“Begin with your employee manual. It was issued to you for a reason.”
Of course. My employee manual. Yep. It had to be that book. The crazy book.
“Now go, quickly. Make peace with Zack. We need his help. There is no time to waste.”
He pushed me toward the stockroom door.
Ding.
That was the front door. We all looked. Zack stepped in onto the welcome mat. IN. From outside.
Fuck me. “You went OUTSIDE? I told you to stay in the cooler!”
He slumped. His eye sockets were pink from crying. Don't ask me how.
“I, uh...I felt really bad about last night, and I wanted to make it
up to all of you, starting with Kevin. So here you go. I got you this. You'll love it. It's even better than Dio.”
“Nothing is better than Dio.”
Zack held something out to him. It was an album. Four guys in makeup and giant platform boots. It said Kiss Destroyer on it. “This is the cat guy I was telling you about. Funny story. I almost reaped him, but the bosses gave him a second chance scroll, last-minute intervention, so I let him go. There's this really great song on here. You have to hear it. It's my favorite. It's soooo good.”
“Oh God. Don't even say it,” Kevin recoiled.
Zack said, “It's called Beth.”
Kevin's jaw dropped. I couldn't tell if it was good or bad. Wait. No. Never mind. Bad. Definitely bad.
“Of course, it's fucking Beth. This asshole reaps Dio and leaves Peter Criss alive, then he comes in here with Beth when Detroit Rock City is the A side. Fucking. Beth. Wait a second.”
Kevin stopped. He looked at his hands. At Zack standing there holding out that Kiss album. “Oh. I get it now. I shoulda known. I'm in hell, aren't I? I crossed over, and you all sent me to hell. After all I done for you.”
He raised four legs to the sky. I swear, if you squinted, you could just make out four glowing blue middle fingers poking out at the very tips.
And that's when a ghost floated in through the front door. And it wasn't the pizza guy. It was a new ghost. A hipster, complete with cuffed jeans, ironic sweater vest, and pompadour.
DeeDee whispered. “I know him. He works at the record store by my house.”
Well, worked would be more accurate, because the dude was dead now.
Wouldn't you know it, that hipster floated right through the counter, beelining for Kevin's records. He stuck his head into the collection and said, “Meh. Not much demand for these, but I can offer you store credit.”
“Yep. I'm in hell. Clever devils.” Kevin shook his head. “Hipsters. The perfect torture. These assholes act like they invented vinyl.”
“This situation grows more dire by the day. These spirits must pass on. Consult the books. We need a plan, quickly,” Doc whispered. “Keep close watch over Kevin. He is near rotten already. The years have turned him into a salty, bitter bug.”
Then he sped right out the front door, but not before backtracking to grab a box off the hot food station. I could see a glazed donut with pink frosting and sprinkles through the clear window on top. I still didn't know what the hell he did with all those doughnuts, but at this point? I didn't want to know. Ignorance really was bliss.
“No, it's not. And this dead hipster is going in your file,” Kevin said. “You had one job. Keep bonehead in the cooler, and nope. He got out. AGAIN. Where's my pen?”
“This isn't my fault. I wasn't even here! How was I supposed to keep him inside?”
“I don't know. You coulda charmed the door or something. It's called reading your employee manual. And being competent in the workplace. I give you a job, you do the job. Period.”
Well, so much for feeling like this was all on the right track. I was so mad I couldn't see straight. I grabbed Zack by the robes. “That's IT! Call the reapers right now. Get these ghosts out of here.”
“Uh, I can't,” he said. “If I could, I would have done it by now.”
“You're a reaper! This is literally your only purpose in the universe. Call your old boss. I'm sure you've got the number.”
“I can't. I'm suspended. They took my scythe. I can't call without my scythe.”
“We've got a phone!”
“No. I don't think that'll work. What did they say again?” Zack rubbed his chin. “Oh, yeah. 'Don't call us, we'll call you.'”
“You're useless!” I dragged him across the floor. Not easy. The dude was heavy, but I was mad. I kicked open the stockroom door and pushed him into the cooler. He stumbled and landed smack in the middle of Morty's heart-shaped love nightmare. “DO NOT come out. Ever. Do you understand me? EVER!”
“Hurrr. I'm sorrreeeeeeeeeeeeee. Sniff. Herp. Will you stay with me? I don't have anybody else. I'm so lonely. And bored. There's nothing to do here. I miss home. Herp Herp. Hurrrrrrr.”
I slammed the door. I stood there for a hot minute, steaming mad. Zack cried like a busted fire hydrant. I could hear his sobs through the thick steel, and a small part of me felt really bad for the guy. He sounded so sincere. And lonely. My heart sunk. I felt the same way after Simone dumped me. Poor guy. I shouldn't be so hard on him.
Wait. No. He killed people! I couldn't let him roam free.
“Hurrrrrr. Hurrrrrr. Hurrrrr.”
Shit. But I couldn't leave him like this. What the hell was I supposed to do now?
“Mr. Wallace. I need your assistance.”
That wasn't Zack. That was Faust. He stepped out of his man cave, outfitted in a hard hat and coveralls. The cleaning crew toddled out behind him wearing matching outfits. As in, they matched Faust. They wore little coveralls and had little hats with flashlights strapped to the front. They were all connected together with tiny ropes and holsters.
Um. Weird?
Faust handed me a cardboard box filled with a jumble of strange things. An iron horseshoe. Rusty old scissors. Jinx removing soap. Keep Away Enemies oil. A black pointy crystal? A couple of giant, flat blue glass beads and a handful of tiny vials labeled, “Spit of a Thousand Greek Yia Yias.”
“Ms. Getley delivered these wards. Will you please put them with the rest of the cleansing supplies? We cannot be too careful these days. The Beast is a wily foe and clever with her curses.”
Faust knelt down to adjust the harness on one of the cleaning crew guys. He produced a bag of Cheetohs and threw a couple into the heating return vent. Those creatures scrambled in after those Cheetohs like they were prime rib. Faust called after them, “If you see something that resembles any of the items in the slide presentation, report back immediately. Remember, special snacks are a reward for a job well done!”
Then Faust looked at me and said, “Do not worry. It is just a precaution. You never can be too careful when witches are concerned. The Beast once transformed into a viper and bit the ankles of all the people who made fun of her shoes. Half the village died that night.”
“She WHAT?” I hopped, looking down and all around for snakes.
Faust shook his head, went back into his office and closed the door. I peered down into the box again. Oh, man. I was in over my head. I was gonna need more than squats to hero my way out of this place.
But you better believe I marched that box over to the rack of magic crap by the utility sink. I shoved it in between the empty spot labeled Curse Breaker and the one remaining bottle of Gut Scraper.
An index card taped on the shelf said, “Please alert the manager if stock dips below two bottles.”
Shit. I totally forgot. Can you blame me? It's been absolutely bonkers around here!
I raised my finger to wipe a smudge off the bottom of the card, but stopped when I realized it was handwriting. A tiny scrawl. It said, “This means you, Lloyd—Kevin.”
Double shit.
“Hurrrrrr. Hurrrrrr. Hurrrrrrrr. My life is ovuuuuuuuuuuurrrrrrr. Hurrrrrr. Hurrrrr. Hurrrrrr.”
Zack cried so loud, it echoed through the hall.
Man. Poor guy. But he did it to himself. And he certainly made my life harder in the process. I mean, look at the mess he left by the magic microwave box. Abandoned mac and cheese cups, half full, cheese packs sprinkled all over. Didn't he know this wasn't a microwave?
Wait.
It's not a microwave.
Boom. It hit me like a bolt of lightning.
What's even better than happy ghosts? A happy grim reaper.
The answer was right there, in the box. I stepped up to the panel and started typing. Look at me! Using the thing. I mean, I think. I'd watched Ricky and DeeDee do it once or twice, but I had never done it myself.
I pressed go. The box lit up and ding.
The door smoked when I opened it. But when it all cleared, ther
e, in the middle, was the answer. A grim reaper containment system in an old Skecher's shoe box. It wasn't fancy. It wasn't divine. But it was a solution, right here in my hands.
It was a gaming console. Well, technically. In reality, it was a cheap knockoff Playstation my Mom bought at a flea market. I didn't know if she thought it was real? Or if she just thought real ones were too expensive. She's cheap. It could go either way. But it did play games. A thousand of them, preloaded. No cartridges. That would be enough to keep Zack from leaving the store.
Take that, Kevin. I did something right!
“Really? You bought a reaper a pair of light up shoes, and you're all proud of yourself? Look at that box. You've seen his feet. Those are way too small.”
“Aaaah!” I jumped. Because only the top half of Kevin floated in the air next to me. His backside was a very long, thin string of ghost...guts—Mist? Whatever—hanging out of the stockroom wall. “How did you get in here?”
“Neat trick, huh? Doesn't tickle, but I don't have a lot of options until Doc decides to get off his ass to scrape my ass off the counter.”
“It's not shoes. See?” I opened the box. “For Zack. To keep him inside.”
“What the hell is that?” He squinted. “Is that a Playstation?”
“It wishes.”
We both stared at it.
“Why didn't you give him your Xbox? That'd be better.”
Kevin looked at me. I looked at him.
“I'm not giving up my Xbox! I've got a Fortnite marathon with Big Dan and Chico tomorrow.”
“Yeah, kid. Sure. You might not want to say that too loud. Not sure it will impress the ladies.”
Angel rolled into my foot. “Amen. So, while I have you. I've got your file here. How are we doing on those abs? We need to get some check marks.”
“Really? Shut up.” I kicked him between some storage bins. So much for my moment of triumph. “You guys are the worst.”
“Nice effort, kid, but uh, I personally don't think 16-bit is enough to keep that dumb ass reaper out of trouble. Which reminds me. This place needs a good mopping. Get on it. Extra Curse Breaker this time. We can't be too careful.”
