The Part Time People

THE PART-TIME PEOPLE
By TOM LICHTENBERG
COPYRIGHT 1983 TOM LICHTENBERG

CHAPTER ONE

DeBarrie's needed help again. The part time people never lasted very long. The most recent one had seemed okay at first. His name was Martin and he played the flute. He was fluent in German, and he liked to watch the races on TV. Joe DeBarrie scanned the application one more time before consigning it to the permanent gone file. It didn't tell him much. His own remarks were limited to "clean, plain, straight-forward". Now, only two months later, he marveled at how wrong he'd been. It's me, he thought, I really know how to pick them.

Aside from the part time people, DeBarrie's Stationery had no staffing problems. Joe, his brother Mike, and Mike's wife Bobby, pretty much ran the place. They were the third generation of DeBarrie's to do so. Joe had the management job. He took care of all the buying, hiring, and paperwork. Bobby kept the books, and Mike took care of all the sales activity on the floor. Gwen Carter was the only non-family working there, Gwen and the part time person.

Joe wished they could do without the extra help. The trouble was that no one wanted to work six shifts a week, and you couldn't really blame them. He didn't want to work that much either. So they needed someone to cover the end times, Monday, Saturday, and Thursday evening when they stayed open late. The business couldn't afford being closed on Saturday, and there were regular customers who depended on the Thursday evening hours. This all meant that a part time person was unavoidable. If only they weren't such a pain, he thought, and he really didn't understand it. Well, as long as we don't get another Martin, Joe told himself, it will be okay, but still he felt that somehow it was all his fault. Oh well, he thought, chalk up all up to experience, and he stuffed the application in the folder and he slammed the file drawer shut. He picked up the "Help Wanted" sign from behind the cabinet, and ventured out into the store to put it on the window. I'll have to make another sign soon, he thought, this one's already falling apart.

Bobby and Mike arrived and Mike glanced at the sign and groaned. Joe got the point. I said I was sorry, he said. Mike shrugged, and Bobby said, we don't blame you, Joe. These things just happen. They sure as hell do, Mike muttered, especially around this place. No one had gotten over Martin yet. Mike went off to get the lights, and Bobby to fetch the register money from the safe. Joe unlocked the doors, but didn't open them till Mike returned and settled in up front. He had a salesman to see at ten, and lunch with another at one. Aside from that, he didn't have much else to do that day. Sometimes he felt like a part time person himself. Not that he didn't belong, that he wasn't essential and important to the business, but just that he was extra. He couldn't explain it to himself. His work was almost entirely behind the scenes, and he often felt out of touch with the everyday operations of the place. I should work on Saturdays and Thursday evenings, he thought. I should be out here on the floor more often, and then we could forget about the part time people altogether. But that would never work, and he knew it. He hated selling things. He simply couldn't deal with it. Every time he lost another part time person he went through this same cycle of thought, and every time his decision turned out the same. There would have to be another one again. Later that day, Joe came out from hiding in his office, rushing past the customers so they wouldn't have a chance to stop him and ask him questions. At the front he gathered the morning’s harvest of applications. There was only one. "How's business?" he asked Gwen. "Pretty slow today", she said. Joe didn't mind. He knew the store was in good shape. They had a good lease, steady customers, and no competition within a mile in any direction. It was an easy life - too easy, he often thought. If it weren’t so easy, I would never have let myself fall into it. His father hadn't pushed him into the business - not at all. Mike was the one who'd always been destined to inherit it, though Joe was older by a year. Mike was always into it. He had been a salesman since the age of nine.

Joe had never shown the interest or the aptitude. He had resented having to work in the store when young, and had left the place as soon as he was old enough. He'd gone off to college - the bookworm of the family - intending to become a teacher. He even got his teaching degree. It was then he realized that he couldn't stand being in front of people. A teacher couldn't be invisible or quiet. He wasn't cut out for it, he'd told himself. Then he didn't know what to do, so he came home, and went to work in the store. Mike didn't resent his return at all. In fact he was happy that Joe was there to do the necessary office work. Like any natural salesman, he didn't like being sold to. So Joe saw all the salesmen, and reordered whatever Mike let him know was needed. Meanwhile, Mike had the sales floor to himself. He was the master of the world out there. And he was very good at it.

Mike and Joe both felt, and often said to one another, that if only they could get the perfect part time person, it would put to rest the only problem that they had. It would be just like a thousand years of peace. And it was ridiculous that such a little thing could go on and mar their happiness month after month, year after year. Over time the matter had assumed absurd dimensions in their minds. It had become a legend, a sort of family curse, almost like a prophecy - and they shall not know peace, for the part time people shall be like a plague unto them unto the final days. Every time they lost another one it meant extra shifts, cancelled plans, interrupted weekends, and the part time people always left at the most inconvenient times, as if deliberately trying to upset their quiet lives.

Of course, it really wasn't like that at all. The part time people didn't dislike Joe or Mike, they didn't dislike their jobs, and there was no supernatural reason for their departures. They simply had their own lives and their own concerns. It only seemed to be a pattern. There was no connection among them that anybody was aware of, and yet there had been something subtly wrong - sometimes not so subtle - about each and every one of them. Mike didn't think too much about it. It was just bad luck as far as he was concerned, bad luck that just went on too long. Joe, on the other hand, was more disturbed by the trend.

Joe took the application back with him and went directly to the office, closing the door behind him. He sat down at his desk, and looked over it. The name was David C. Melenik. He was twenty-four years old. He lived on NW 7th Street. He had gone to elementary school, high school, college for a year. Then he had worked in retail - a shoe store for a year, and several other jobs in quick succession afterwards, none lasting for than seven months. It was not a good sign. He listed no hobbies and no special interests. He had no references. There was no one to contact in case of an emergency under "health and related problems that we ought to know about" he'd written, "there's a man who follows me around and ruins everything I do." And that was all the information on the form.

Joe said 'great!' and tossed the application form aside. Why don't we ever get a normal person, just a normal human being who needs a job? Why are they always strange? His immediate decision was to chuck that application, and wait to see what else turned up. But nothing did, and he had to work both Thursday night and Saturday all day, and he hated every minute that he had to be out there, serving customers. I'm just not cut out for this, he thought repeatedly, all the time. It's just not in my nature. I don't like people, he decided a hundred times, and he convinced himself that it was true. It's not that I don't like them, Joe decided, it's just that I don't like it when we're in these weird relations. Either they are acting like the boss and I am just a jerk, or else I feel superior and they are all just jerks. I don't like it like that. I like people when I'm with them on an equal basis, just people, one on one, and it is never that way on the sales floor.

He never understood how Mike, his brother, or Mike, his father, had managed to live out there, enjoying it like they did. They seemed to get along just fine with everyone they dealt with. There was never any arrogance on one side or condescension on the other with those guys. They treated every one the same, and everyone just right. I just don't have the knack, he thought, and he felt stupid whenever he was out there, as if he was just doing it all wrong, as if he'd never learn. And so mostly he avoided it. He kept to the back, the office, and did the work that needed to be done back there. I'm simply not that kind of person, Joe decided for the millionth time.

And so on Monday morning he called up David Melenik and made an appointment to see him later that afternoon. He didn't tell Mike about it. Mike didn't bother about that stuff. He let Joe take care of it. Whoever Joe hired, well, that was fine with him. He just did his best to get along with them, though it wasn't always easy. In fact it rarely was. But Mike never thought about it much. It was Bobby who kept saying, since you're the one that has to work with them, you should be the one to pick them too. But Mike always said, I couldn't do any better at it than Joe. It's just the job, it's cursed. And Bobby knew there was no talking any sense to him. Mike was a wall from many angles. Bobby had given up long ago.

She felt the trouble wasn't with the job, it was with Joe. She had been there for the interviews, in the office working at her desk, but listening. Joe was different when he had to talk to people he didn't know. With family and friends he was okay - mostly calm, mostly quiet, but comfortable and easy. But strangers made him nervous, and whenever he got nervous he got strange ideas running through his head. And then he asked the strangest questions, and the interviews got weird. Bobby could sense him struggling with himself, but he sort of lost control, and did and said things that he didn't want to do or say, and there was nothing he could do to hold it off. She had tried to explain all this to Mike, but she didn't make much sense She didn't know how to put it into words. She only knew that something wasn't right. She knew Joe as well as she knew anyone, but when he got like that, she could swear she had never really known him at all. It was almost like he was someone else entirely.

Joe held the office door open, said thanks and see you later to Wally Bird, the local NPC rep. It had been a usual session. Joe had ordered the usual supplies in the usual amounts, and could just as easily have placed the order over the phone. He did not particularly enjoy Wally's visits, but it made him feel more useful, more productive when he made these deals in person. He didn't like sitting and talking to ghosts over the telephone lines. And Wally was pleasant enough - plainspoken, straightforward, honest if just a bit dull. There wasn't much to talk about. Paper clips were only paper clips, staples were only staples. After he left Joe closed the door and retreated to his desk. The intercom buzzed. It was Gwen. There's some guy named David Melanie or something here. He says you're supposed to talk to him or something. It's okay, send him back, said Joe.

Bobby looked up. She had overheard - listened in on - his call to David earlier, and she was apprehensive now. Joe stood up and paced while waiting for the applicant to reach the door and knock. He kept clenching and unclenching his hands. Bobby wanted to leave the room, but she knew she'd better stay. She had a feeling that things would turn out better if she was there, although there had been nothing in past experience to confirm this feeling. Joe took her being there for granted. He didn't really notice she was there.

The knock came soon enough, and Joe let David in, and asked him to sit down in the extra orange swivel chair. He too sat down, behind his desk, and picked up David's application. He pretended to be reading it, but he was trying to think of what to say. He never knew how to begin these things. He considered a lot of openings, but none of them seemed right. Finally he just blurted out, what is all this here about a man who follows you around? what does all that mean? Bobby almost choked. She hadn't seen the application before, and she wasn't prepared for this. Oh God, she prayed, not this, not one of these again. But she kept quiet and tried to be invisible. David kept glancing over at her, and he was wondering who she was, why she was there. He was afraid to talk. It was a mistake, he thought, I should have never come in here. But he was there and he'd just been asked a question, so he had to let it go on, or else get up and run away. But he told himself I will not run away. I'm not running anymore.

It's like it says, he said. He tracks me everywhere I go. I can't get rid of him. Who is he? Joe inquired. I don't know who he is. Why is he following you? Why you? I don't know, David said. I think that he just picked me out of a crowd one day, but I don't really know. David could not look up. His eyes were focused on his shoes, the floor. He felt he couldn't go through with this, no, not again. They never understand, they thought. I don't blame them, really. How could they know what it's like? When did all this start? Joe asked, and David said about three years ago. When you were at the shoe store? Yes, he said, he ruined that for me. How? What did he do? David shrugged. Everything went bad, he quietly said, I had to run away.

Run away? I couldn't stay there anymore, he said, he ruined it. He ruins everything I do. Who is he? Joe pressed on, and David said I don't know. What does he look like? I don't know. I don't think I've ever seen him. Well, I might have, I might have seen him but I can't be sure that it was him. He changes. If it was him then he changes, and he's different every time. Joe was nervous behind the desk. He felt his face get warm, he could feel the sweat beads forming on his underarms. He didn't know what to say. I don't want to be here now, he thought. It's all wrong, it's all going wrong. How do I get out of this? But all he said was I don't understand. I can't tell you any more about it, David said, except it's true. You probably think I'm crazy, everybody does.

I wonder why, thought Bobby, but she kept it to herself. She thought that what he said was mad, no doubt about it, certifiably insane - a man who follows him around and ruins everything he does - but there was something else about the boy, and he was really only just a boy. He didn't look like crazy people look. She thought that thought and wondered what it meant. How do I know what crazy people look like? Don't they look like everybody else except they're nuts? She didn't know what she meant, it was just that he was just so, he was just so young and baby faced. He was not a boy that anyone would notice, that anyone would pay attention to, let alone single out of a crowd. He was just a moon faced boy who needed about another ten years of life before he started to become a man.

Joe was fidgeting and wondering what else to say. Bobby wanted to say something, to make it end, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Mike would be furious with her if she even dared to try and interfere. Leave him alone, he'd say, there's nothing the matter with my brother! I didn't say there was, she'd say, of course there's nothing wrong with him. It's just that he's not good at that, he shouldn't have to do it. And Mike would say he's never said he didn't want to, and until he does, I am not going to bother him and you won't either, okay? She'd say okay, and that would be that. And there was nothing she could do.

How come you didn't fill this out? Joe asked, pointing at the references and notify in case of emergency spaces on the form. I don't have any names to put in there, David said. No one at all? No one. David shook his head. It's very strange, Joe muttered, and then David suddenly stood up and almost shouted, I'm sorry, I can't help it, that's just the way it is with me right now, okay? Joe had stiffened in his chair and now spoke uneasily, Okay, I'm sorry, he said. He bit his lip and clenched his hands again. This is the worst, thought Bobby, even worse than Martin, even worse than Jill. And they'd been pretty bad. But Joe said, can you work the cash register? Yes, said David, I've done a lot of that.

The job is only twenty hours a week, Joe said, Saturday and Monday from nine to six, and Thursday four to ten. The pay is four an hour. Is that okay with you? That's all right, David said. He had really wanted full time and more money but he didn't have much choice. No one had offered him a job in weeks, and the change he got panhandling never was enough to pay for a bed and food. They were going to kick him out of the shelter in a week. He had no place else to go. But he didn't believe this man was giving him a job. He thought maybe he's just leading me along. He'll kick me out of here at any minute now and then have a nice laugh later, tell everyone how stupid and pathetic I am. Bobby was hoping for exactly that to happen, but she also knew that it was too late now. Whatever Joe might have wanted to do, he was in no condition now to do it. He was in the grips of his nervousness with strangers, and he had no control. They were going to be stuck with David Melenik.

Can you start tomorrow? Joe asked. Yes, I can, David replied, and he didn't believe it still. Well, then, come in at four and Gwen will show you around, okay? I'll be here, David said, and he didn't make a move. Joe did not move either, and for the longest thirty seconds both of them just sat there, still and quiet, neither one looking at the other. Bobby thought that it would never end. And then Joe said, you have a place to stay? Oh God, she prayed, don't let him take him back to the house, no God please, anything but that. And David said, yeah, I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me. I'll do my best. I will.

That's all anyone could ask, said Joe, and then he smiled. He felt relieved. He was almost out of the situation now. He had made it through again. David tried to smile but couldn't, and then Joe stood up and David also stood, and mutually mumbling nonsense, they made it to the office door. After David left, Joe closed the door behind him. He was shaking still, but he knew that it was over. He could relax. Soon everything would be all right again. Bobby started to say something, but she didn't. She just couldn't. It was too late now. And she felt that something terrible was going to happen, and she didn't want to be there when it did.

CHAPTER TWO

He was wary of a trick. Too many times in recent years he'd been set up, let down. And if it wasn't a trap, if they didn't intend to greet him with what are you doing here, get lost, then it would happen anyway, in an hour or two, a week, a month at most, and he'd be right back here again, sitting on this bench in this little square of city park, with no idea of when it was all going to end for good, if indeed it ever would. There was no rational explanation for what was happening to him; no rational explanation, and that left only the irrational to consider. He knew that he was not imagining things. I don't even have an imagination, he thought, and he felt that it was true. Even as a child he'd shown no creativity at all. He could copy a square from a book, but he could never draw one on his own. He'd have no idea what size to make it, or where to put it on the page.

But he needed no imagination to survive. He'd always known that he could simply plod along like millions of others seemed to do. He needed no talent, no special training to do what he intended to do - to get a job, to earn a living, to live somewhere and go for long walks in the sun on sunny days, to stay at home and read adventure novels when it rained. He had never asked for much, had never asked for anything at all, except, perhaps, to just be left alone. Was that too much? And when he'd finally realized who he was and what he wanted out of life, he'd looked around and found the right position - in the shoe store, fitting people's feet. It was suitably obscure - exactly what he wanted.

If there had been signs or indications of what was soon to happen, he hadn't noticed them. The occasional nuts who came into the store were harmless and forgettable. They meant nothing to him. And the weirdoes on the streets and on the news were not a part of his life either. He had, like everybody else, taken these things for granted. Smart people go insane, he'd always thought, and then they bother no one but themselves, except for every now and then they tend to go berserk and assassinate their mother or the pope and then they're put away for life, but that was none of his concern.

He'd changed his mind about the lunatics out there, but only later on, only as a last resort. It didn't occur to him at first that all his problems stemmed from some insaniac who had somehow picked him out of all the people in the world to pester and to persecute. No, it was only after many months, after much consideration of the facts, that he had come to this conclusion. Still he wasn't completely sure, but it was the only theory that seemed to fit. He had no personal enemies. It was impossible that anyone he ever knew or anyone he'd ever even met could be doing all these things to him. He had run down the list, and eliminated everybody on it. He couldn't think of anything he'd ever done to anyone that might have led to this.

He had never known a single crazy person that he knew of. So it had to be a stranger. And he read somewhere of things like this, in novels of suspense, in movies, TV shows. Sometimes it seemed so obvious to him that he couldn't understand why no one else seemed able to accept his story on the face of it. Surely they'd seen the same movies that he did, surely it was not unusual. He put down only the truth on the application forms. He thought that it was something his employers ought to know about right from the start. They were bound to find out sooner or later in any case, so he might as well tell them about it up front. He considered himself an honest sort. Why did they laugh behind his back as soon as they had read it? Why did they look away? Even this man who'd offered, or pretended to have offered him this job had acted strangely. If I was in his place, he thought, I would have said okay and thanks for letting me know, and nothing else besides. It didn't seem so weird.

I'm just too sensitive, he thought. I let things get to me. I shouldn't have let him push me around like this. If I never ran away, if I didn't react, he would have given up by now. This time I won't run, no matter how badly I want to, no matter how bad it gets. He had made this resolution many times before, and always he'd felt he'd stick to it this time. He never did. As soon as the signs appeared, he'd start to lose his nerve. And then the whole routine would follow as it always did, every step of the way the same as usual. But this time I won't let it get to me, he said, softly, aloud. There was no one around to hear. It was time to go to work.

David got up and looked carefully in every direction. He saw only normal human beings, and he tried to calm himself. Everything's okay, he thought, it's going to be all right. He walked slowly towards the stationery store, breathing deeply, trying not to think too much. All I have to do is be alert, relaxed, act normal and it will be all right. He felt that he could pull it off that day. There were other days when he knew he wasn't up to it, when he'd have to stay away, to find a place to hide from everything until the feeling passed. It always did, in time. All he had to do was wait.

Today, however, he'd woken up feeling that it could be a good day - if they weren't planning to trick him like the others had done before. He'd put on his best clean clothes and even shined his shoes and brushed his teeth. And then he had gone out to the city park to wait. He'd been there since nine o'clock, and it was half past three by the time he left. During that time he'd just run through the litany a hundred times, explaining and preparing himself. I'm ready now, he told himself repeatedly as he neared the store, and before he knew it he was there, inside the door and standing by the counter where Gwen was taking money from a customer.

She glanced up and recognized him and she said, Hi, Joe is in the back, and he didn't know if he should go back there or what she was expecting him to do. He didn't have a comfortable feeling about her at first. She seemed brusque and cold, but he knew he shouldn't make these judgments right away. They could ruin everything. So he stood there for a moment and Gwen looked up again and said well? aren't you going to check in? Oh, right, he said, and then he knew - check in, I have to let him know I'm here, and so he went towards the back. Joe was peeking out the door and when he saw him coming he went out to meet him. Hello, he said. Hi. There was a moment of silence. Joe didn't want to be out there, didn't know why he was, and suddenly he just wanted to go back to his desk and do something back there, do anything, so he said, why don't you go up front and ask Gwen to show you around up there, where the prices are, the keys, all that. Okay, David said, and he felt already he was being bounced around. They don't want me here, he thought, and despite his resolutions of the day he started getting nervous again.

He turned around and Joe was heading back into the office. David felt abandoned on the floor, and he didn't know how to approach Gwen. They're playing games with me, he thought. He should've gone up there with me and told her what he wanted her to do with me. A customer brushed past him, and he felt that he was only in the way already. It wasn't starting out too well. He took a deep breath and went back up to Gwen and said, Joe says you can show me around the register first thing, and he didn't like the way it all came out. He wondered if she'd even understood a word he said. Oh? she replied, well, okay, if that's what he wants. Why don't you come back here and just watch how I do it for awhile, okay?

For the next half an hour or so David just stood there behind her and concentrated on the register keys. There were separate ones for each department in the store, and he had to figure out which things got rung up where. It wasn't very hard. There were paper supplies, pencils and pens, accessories like paper clips and filing boxes, art supplies, and an extra key he couldn't figure out and didn't ask about. Almost every item had a price on it; Gwen and Mike were pretty meticulous about that. It seemed like it was going to be an easy job, just the kind he liked the best and needed the most. He was beginning to relax again, and even started getting used to the blunt and scrambled way Gwen spoke.

It's pretty clear you know, you don't have to be no genius or something, okay? she laughed. I mean like you have done this stuff before right Joe said that you did so you won't have any trouble with it I'm sure. Mostly the part time people stay up here so I can get the other stuff done so once you got it down it won't be any problem, she went on, and David simply nodded and occasionally said okay, right, and it was fine. She even let him do it by himself a little bit, and even though he was pretty nervous and lost count making change a couple of times he did all right, and even Gwen said that he did. He was okay with the customers, smiled a little now and then, said thank you every time and carefully placed their change in their outstretched palms, counting it back, piece by piece.

Mike only said hello once and David had no idea who he was but he liked him right away. It seemed to him that Mike was all together like a normal guy should be, but Mike was busy doing all the little things he did as well as helping everyone who even only looked like they might have a question in their mind. David wanted to watch him more and learn, but he was pretty busy at the front, and didn't have much time to look around. He didn't see Joe till six o'clock, when he and Bobby came out of the office, ready to go home.

Joe left right away, just nodded and goodbye and he was gone, but Bobby had to wait while Mike did every little thing he wanted to get done that day before he went. They went through this every night, and Bobby chatted happily with Gwen while she waited for him to finish. It seemed to David that the place was like a family, and he didn't even know yet that it was. It made him almost happy, and he found it easier to believe that it was true, and that they weren't playing tricks on him. But he also knew he had to be careful still - things weren't always like they seemed, and he had to give it time until he could be sure. Soon Bobby and Mike were gone, and most of the customers too, and there was only Gwen and him alone. David told himself that everything was going to be okay. It was only two more hours.

He didn't really want to talk, and hoped she didn't either. It was good enough to be there, have a job and be there, money coming in again and no one bothering him. It's a good place here, said Gwen, and he said, yes, I'm sure it is. If she has to talk, he thought, I'm going to say as little as I can. Talking can be dangerous. It gets weird, especially when you don't know who they are and what they think of things. Gwen didn't know about him either. She thought, well, so far he is okay, I guess. Quiet, not too bright, a little bit nervous but that's okay. It's his first day after all. She was not too curious about him, but when you have to work with someone, you want to get to know them just a little bit, at least.

She said, so, you new in town or something? He said, yeah, I've been here for awhile, and he didn't want to give out any details, not just yet. You should tell the boss, he thought, but no one else really has to know about you if you don't want them to, and he didn't want her to. He didn't really want to know about her either. She said, where you from originally? and he said oh, around. She got the hint and said, oh, so you don't wanna talk. He shrugged. Well, that's okay, she said, sometimes I don't feel like talking either. It wasn't true. She always liked to talk, especially on these boring Thursday nights when no one ever came to shop. It was just a family tradition, not good business sense, that kept them open late that night. They barely made enough on Thursday nights to pay the part time people's wages, let alone her own. But Mike and Joe insisted, like their father had, like his dad before him too. Gwen was used to it, and didn't really mind; she liked sleeping late on Thursday mornings, and if it wasn't for the part time people, it would have been the best day of the week.

They were always strange. She'd been through maybe five or six of them the last two years, and she hadn't really gotten along with any one of them. She used to think that maybe it was all her fault. No one else complained about them then, and it was like she was the only one who noticed they were weird. That made her think that maybe she was the one, maybe she was weird, not them, but later on Bobby came to her support, and there was no longer any doubt. It isn't me. It's them all right, she thought. And boy, could she tell stories about those guys! It all began when Joe came back, just after Mike the Father died. Gwen had been there for a year already at the time.

Mike senior worked the extra shifts himself, and there had been no part time people then, just the family folks and her. But Joe didn't want to work the extra hours. He didn't belong there, really, she thought, but who was she to say? He was the oldest, after all. In any case, he sure knew how to pick them. Every time it was another weirdo. The first one, Rick, just seemed to be a happy jerk at first, a stupid happy jerk who couldn't learn a thing. He never figured out the difference between a twenty and a ten. So that was bad for business and his drawer was always short or over, never right, and you could live with that. It was the way he turned out later, after about two months, when he started giving advice about supplies.

She thought that maybe he was joking, maybe he was making fun of everyone, but he was deadly serious. He'd come to think somehow that you can tell a person's personality from the office supplies they bought, and from there it was a short step to analysis and counseling on how to change themselves by changing carbon paper brands, and finally to fortune telling through the medium of paper clips. He had three special ones, gold plated paper clips, which he would rattle in his hand and toss out on the counter, and proceed to tell the customer's future then and there. This he only did on Thursday nights, when Mike was not around. And Mike did not believe her when she told him all about it. That's the stupidest thing I ever heard, he said, and she had said, well, he's just about the stupidest person I ever met!

Well, he finally flipped out and started seeing nuclear holocausts in everybody's bag, and they had to let him go. He still showed up every now and then, and he was almost unrecognizable by now. He wasn't even happy anymore. The goofy grin was gone for good. After him was George, the creep who couldn't keep his hands off anything - he went after all the customers, women, men, of any age, flirted all the time, and stole everything in sight as well. He was unbelievable. Gwen used to stand there and just gape at him. No one could get over him. It was like he was a magic trick you couldn't figure out, an obscene, ridiculous creature someone pulled out of a hat. When he stopped showing up one day, Gwen felt so relieved she almost cried.

And then of course, there was Ron. Ron who couldn't be fired. Ron who could not be talked to. Ron who was simply too remote from this world to be reached in any way at all. The only person who could ever talk with him was God almighty himself. Then Ron might possibly listen, but only if he happened to feel like it that day. He was always muttering beneath his breath, so soft you couldn't make out the words, but you knew you didn't want to anyway. Ron was just too much. This guy couldn't possibly be any worse than him. He couldn't be worse than Martin, and he couldn't be worse than Jill, she thought, especially not Jill. She had been the worst by far. And she hadn't yet gotten over Martin either. Hard to believe it's only been two weeks, she thought. It feels like everything is new since then. I never want to go through anything like that again.

She couldn't help but think about these things throughout the rest of the evening. They didn't talk, and she got tired of having him just stand around up there, so she told him that he might as well just look around the store and get to know where everything was kept and the kinds of things they had in stock, and if he had some questions he should ask right then and there because it would be better if he asked when it was slow than when they were too busy to really take the time so he could get it right. David busied himself with this for a little while, he went around the store a couple of times, but he ended up just staring at the shelves and spacing out.

He was glad she didn't insist on talking, and he noticed how almost no one came in the store, but he figured it was just a slow night and it wasn't usually like that. He didn't ask about it, thought he thought he'd find out soon enough in any case, after a few more weeks. It was good to be thinking in terms of weeks, but when he noticed he was thinking in that way he made his mind shut up. I can't let myself get carried away, he thought. Gwen read a magazine and pretended to ignore him, but she was watching all the time. She watched him stand there, obviously not looking around and learning the stock, just standing there and moving to another spot to stand on every now and then. Well, maybe he's just bored, she thought - I know I am. She was determined to give him the benefit of the doubt. So far he doesn't seem so bad, she told herself. Maybe it will be okay this time. I'd rather have a total bore than a total creepo lunatic around.

When it was time to close, they just quickly said good night, and he was gone. She put the money away, turned off the lights, and locked up for the night. That was not too bad, she thought as she stepped out of the door. She was glad to be outside, the night was warm and still. It was just beginning to get dark. She walked over to the subway entrance, thinking about the easy night ahead at home, oblivious to the noises and the shadows all around.

CHAPTER THREE

On Monday morning, Joe was late to work. He had sat around the house while Mike and Bobby got prepared to go. Coming with us? Mike had asked, and Joe had said, not yet, I think I'll just wake up a bit. But he was already awake. He'd been up since six. After Mike and Bobby left he made another pot of coffee and he drank it all and smoked about a dozen cigarettes. He was reluctant to depart, and he did not know why. There was no reason why he should go in anyway. He didn't have a rep to see, and there was really nothing on his desk that couldn't wait. There were many days like that, but he felt too guilty not to go, even when he didn't have anything to do there. His father had always gone to work, had always gone to work on time, and never missed a day.

Mike the Father lived for his little business. After his wife had died, there was nothing else for him. Well, that's okay for Mike and dad, Joe thought, but I don't have to live like that. I could do something else entirely, like his little brother Greg. Greg had never worked there in his life, not even for a day, not even for the annual inventory no matter how hard his father pestered him to help. Greg had gone away at seventeen, and hadn't been back in years. Every now and then they got a postcard from a different town, saying he was fine. He didn't ask about the store, just whether anybody had kids yet. But since he never put an address on the cards, they could never tell him no, not yet, no kids. He probably didn't care.

But when Joe came back it was with all the force of an irrevocable decision, and he'd locked himself into a pattern that he couldn't seem to break. Every weekday morning he got up to go to work. Every day he went, usually on time. And then he'd be there and he'd have to sit around all day, taking as much time as he could to do the simplest things. He was bored with life, and yet he wasn't sad. It was just the way it was. And he did get some kind of enjoyment out of it, occasionally. Sometimes he felt good doing things that needed to be done, making himself useful, helping Mike. Mike could not do everything, he told himself, so I am glad to lend a hand. That was his excuse. Actually, it didn't matter to him at all, whether the things got done or not.

Monday he had a special reason why he didn't want to go to work. He was afraid to find out how things were with David. He figured that if Mike went first, maybe he would deal with any problem there might be, and then he wouldn't have to. Not that there was any problem as far as he was aware. David will be fine, he told himself, he's just a nervous kid who's probably had some bad luck in the past, that's why he gets so tense, that's why he was so jittery. He had some rotten luck and he is just a little bit confused. Joe could understand. Maybe the kid just hasn't figured out where he is coming from, Joe thought. Maybe all he needs is an easy place to be, a place where no one hassles him, where he can have some time to get himself together.

He was sure that he was right, and he felt he would have wanted somebody to do the same for him back then, when he was still a kid and didn't know what to do or where to go. Now I know where I am, he thought, what to do will come along in turn someday. He figured that's what the part time job should be for - people who needed a chance to help themselves. It was too ridiculous a job for someone who already had things straight. And so he tried to help them out. I do my best, he thought. Also there are just so many people in the world who don't fit in. Everybody needs a place to be. Eventually the notion that he should be at the store got through to him, and he got up and left the house.

There wasn't any problem. Mike was busy as he always was, checking in a shipment now, studying the invoice and carefully counting all the merchandise received. David was up front at the register. He looked okay. Joe smiled and said good morning. David smiled back. It was the closest to a real smile that he could do. Joe went over to where Mike was and asked him how the day was getting on. Mike said great, everything is fine. And David? Joe inquired. The kid's all right, said Mike. He's got the register down already. I talked to Gwen this morning on the phone, and she says he was just all right on Saturday. This could be the one. Joe said that he hoped that he was right. It's about time, he added. Mike nodded and went back to work. Joe went in the office.

David watched them talking and he knew it was about himself. He wondered what they said. He didn't think it would be anything bad, because he'd done his job and there weren't any problems. He was doing the best he could, just like he'd said he would. The other day was fine. Gwen didn't talk too much again, and she didn't make him feel uncomfortable anymore. Also he had not seen any crazy people since about a week, and that was good. He was being extra careful now. When he walked around the streets, sometimes he didn't even look around. He knew that if he didn't see them, he wouldn't get ideas. But usually he had to look, just in case it might be him. You never know. It could be any one of them.

Bobby greeted Joe and asked him if he woke up yet. Joe smiled and said I ought to. I had a lot of coffee. Bobby said I wish I had some now, and he offered to go and get her some. She said that would be just great. So he turned and went out the back way to the bakery in the alley. As soon as he had left, she picked the phone up from where it was on hold, and said, it's okay, he has just gone out. Gwen said, I hate to think of him this way, but don't you think he needs some help? Who, Joe? No, he just needs a wife, that's all. Maybe a baby boy or two. That would straighten him right up. He's just gotten lazier and lazier ever since he came back here. It isn't good for him. I know, Gwen said, and he isn't good for Mike or you or even the store the way he is these days.

Well now, Bobby said, I guess there's nothing we can do about it now. I mean, he half owns the place and he's got every right to be here if he wants. And it looks like he wants all right because he comes in every day, even when there's nothing much to do. I know, Gwen said, you know, I think it's just the thing about the people that he gets, you know? I mean, otherwise it's just okay and he can do the job all right it's just the people that he gets or something, I don't know. Did you see him again? Bobby asked, and Gwen said, yes, last Saturday night. He was waiting in the subway. He knew when I was going to be there, like I always am, you know? Did he say anything to you? No, he just kind of smirked the way he always does, like he was saying I know where you are and I can find you anytime I want. I swear I don't know what to do. You should call the cops again. They said he's not supposed to do that anymore. Gwen sighed, they can't do anything. It's a free country, remember? Remember what he said? I can go anywhere I god damned please and there ain't anything that anyone can do about it, and he's right. The cops can't do a thing.

Bobby said, well, I don't know what to tell you, hon, that's the only thing I can think of doing. I know, Gwen said, I know. And there was silence on the line. What about the new guy? Bobby asked, how was he on Saturday? Oh, okay so far I guess, she said, I mean he hardly says a thing and he looks like he is almost scared to death of everything, but maybe he's just shy, you know, he's just a kid. But I will tell you, Bobby, if he turns out like another Martin, I am going to quit this job, and you won't be able to stop me this time. I don't think I'd try, Bobby said, you have every right to want to quit. Imagine that guy following you around like that. I wish I'd never laid my eyes on him. I wish Joe had never hired him, Gwen said. That's the problem from the start. He shouldn't get those guys.

Bobby didn't answer because Joe had just come back in with a cup of coffee for her, and he put it on her desk. She said, oh thank you, Joe, you're such a dear, to let Gwen know that he was back. Then she said into the phone, I guess I have to go. You take care of yourself, you hear? And if that happens again, you know what I mean, you just do what I told you, okay? I'm not going to call the cops, Gwen said, it's too frustrating. I'll just stick a knife in him, all right? Whatever you think is best, Bobby said, goodbye. Goodbye, Gwen said, and they hung up.

What was that all about? Joe asked, and Bobby said, oh nothing, just Barbara Riggins. She's always having trouble with her laundry. Damned shirts won't get clean. So I told her to use this brand I bought, you know? It really works. Oh, Joe said, and he turned his attention towards the latest catalogs on his desk. There can't be anything more unexciting, he thought, than the ads they put in these. As if a rolodex was something to be celebrating with balloons and titsy pom pom girls. It's just the American way, he thought, everything has to be the greatest ever. Even Bobby's laundry suds work miracles these days.

David made it through the day all right, and for the next few days he kept himself away and out of sight. Joe gave him an advance and he found a small room in a small hotel near the city park. He had a window view but he didn't look out much. He had bought a couple mystery books and food and determined to stay indoors till Thursday afternoon. Things were going too well, and he didn't want to mess it up in any way. He knew that if he went outside and took a long walk in the sun - for they were sunny days - he'd look around too much, he'd see too much, and he wanted to keep his balance intact. He was only being logical. By now he knew himself too well. He knew how he would act, react in every circumstance. If he saw a woman that he liked her looks, he would stare too long, and then think about her later much too much. If anyone came up to him and asked him any question, he'd begin to stutter and he couldn't stop. If he wandered onto certain streets, he'd get the strange ideas.

It was better to stay inside. It hadn't always been like this for him. It was the result of these experiences of the past few years. They'd changed him in many ways. Someday he hoped that it would end, and he figured that he would slowly turn back into who he was before. He was counting on that happening. If it didn't... He didn't like to think about that much. If it didn't end, he forced himself to think, well, I can make it through. It's just a matter of learning what to do and where to go, what to see, and what things to avoid. And they say that adaptation is the key to making it, he thought, survival of the best adapted kind. It was only a matter of practice, learning, and remembering.

He stayed inside and it went well. There were plenty of scary movies on TV, the books were good, and he didn't get too lonely. The room was even quiet, and he could hardly hear the people who were staying next door, and that was even more than he'd expected. Silence was the best thing he could think of happening. Usually there were people and machines all making noise wherever he was staying, wherever he went, whatever he did. Total silence was essential, David thought, at least for several hours a day. That's what sleep was for. And the days passed quickly enough, and it was Thursday almost all too soon. He had gotten very comfortable in the room, and he didn't want to leave. But he knew that he could only pay for it by going to work, and so he had no choice.

He put it off as long as possible, so it wasn't until three forty five that he left the room and went outside. Immediately he was confronted with the world in all its motion, all its sound. David tensed up quickly, and had to almost shout his thoughts inside his mind to make them heard. It's okay, he told himself, it's going to be all right. It only takes a little time to readjust. As soon as I get to the store I know that I'll be ready. He tried to walk as calmly as he could, breathing deeply as he did, reciting his litany to himself. But he couldn't help but notice the little old man across the street. He was bending over by the hydrant, vomiting into the sewer. He was wearing a thick old overcoat though it was ninety two degrees outside. David heard him retching all the way from where he was. The man looked up, and he was looking right at him. He seemed to be scowling too.

It could be him, it might be, David thought, but then he wouldn't let himself think that. No, not today, he told himself, it's just too soon, too soon. Why doesn't he leave me alone for just a little while. It probably isn't him, he thought, of course it's not. I've never seen that man before. He's just a wino, that's all he is, he isn't really one of them, not really, no. Winos aren't the same, they're not the same at all. But even though the man walked off the other way and soon was out of sight, David couldn't stop remembering him, trying to compare him in his mind to all the others he had seen. It can't be him, he thought, he's not the one. He could not relax, and when he got to work he forgot to say hello when he went in, and Gwen thought that was strange, because although he never said too much he always said hello. It was like the only word he knew.

He blinked and tried to think of what to do, and he knew that he should just keep still, relax, and go to work. He stood by the counter for a minute staring through the glass. Mike came up behind him and said howdy Dave, how's it going, and that was enough to break the spell. David turned around and even smiled. He said Hi Mike how are you? And Mike said I'm just fine, and you? Never better, David said. Gwen said Hi and David said hello to her as well. And then he was okay. The old man was forgotten, and the job was still there after all. He'd almost got to thinking, during those few days alone, that he was only dreaming, that it wasn't real, the store, the job, even the hotel room that he was in. But it was real all right, real and just the thing he needed most.

He took over for Gwen on the register and worked as well as he had ever done. He didn't make any mistakes, and he wasn't even nervous. He was courteous and pleasant to everyone who came up to him. He didn't mind their questions, and if he didn't know, he didn't hesitate to call for Mike or Gwen. Once or twice he thought he hadn't felt so good in years. It was almost like a brand new day. Usually when he got to feeling exuberant like that he checked himself, told himself to take it easy, not get carried away, but this time he couldn't help himself, because it felt so good. I don't see why it can't go on like this, he thought. This is just the way it ought to be. Maybe it will be this time. Maybe it's all over and I didn't even know it, and why not? It's got to be that way someday. Someday I'll just wake up and realize that it's been over with for months and I didn't even know it.

Even Joe noticed, when he came out from the office, preparing to go home, that something had changed in David. he didn't know what it was. He said to Bobby later on that night that didn't it seem like David was going to be all right, even though maybe his application had been weird, and maybe he did seem strange at first. Bobby had to agree that David seemed more normal that day than any of the other part time people they had ever had. And Mike said like I told you Joe, the kid's okay, and he's going to work out fine. When Mike said that, there was no question anymore. He had his mind made up. Joe felt good, at least I finally made the right decision after all, he thought. He hoped that he might never have to hire another person again. Oh God, if only this keeps up, he thought, it would be so good.

It was Gwen who had to deal with him that night. Oh, he'd been fine all right, all the way till seven, just as chipper as a man could be. He'd even talked a bit about himself. He said he was from Michigan, but he didn't remember it at all. He said he'd had a lot of jobs before, but none so good as this. He told her all about the room he had, how quiet it was, how much he liked to be there. She didn't urge him on. In fact she didn't want to hear all that. She was relieved a bit to find that he was actually someone with a voice, a life, a past, but she was still too much aware of Martin, Jill, and Ron.

Things got bad when some old nut came in the store. He was a usual, had been coming around for years. He just went up and down the block on a regular rotation, stopped in once a month or so to yell out, where's the light, has anybody seen the light, and then he'd laugh like he was going to burst before he went on to the next part of his act. Gwen even had a name for him. She called him Santa Claus, but David had never seen him before, and she had never seen someone react like that to poor old drunken Santa. First he turned all white. Then he froze, as if his limbs were locked in place. He stayed there just like that till Santa left, still laughing all the way. David never recovered his earlier mood that night. After Santa left he stuttered whenever he began to talk, and soon he gave up talking all together. He kept glancing out the window every other second.

Gwen tried to cheer him up again. Oh that's just old Santa Claus, that's what I call him anyway, he's harmless, just a drunk, he comes in all the time, been coming around for years. He goes in everywhere; everybody knows him. Sometimes I even give him a buck or two. But all her talk did nothing to change the dead expression on his face. He didn't say goodbye when it was time to leave. She watched him walk out like a corpse. Oh Christ, she thought, he is another one after all. Well, maybe there's a logical explanation. Maybe I'll get it out of him on Saturday. She didn't want to have to worry about him now. Martin was still around. She had enough to deal with already.

Later on, after she'd locked up and was about to leave, she made her mind up that she'd give him one more week. If he was weird again next Thursday night, she would definitely do something about it. But first I'll talk to Bobby. Maybe she can help. God damn, she said, what is it with these part time people anyway?

CHAPTER FOUR

David had only one day to recover after Thursday night. It was not enough time. He had gone home immediately, as fast as possible, intending to just stay in there till Saturday morning came, but he'd forgotten, in his haste, to get prepared. He had no food to eat, no book to read, nothing to do. Thursday night that didn't seem like a problem. I have to put myself together, he thought, that's the most important thing. He didn't know if the man Gwen called Santa Claus was really a sign or not. It could have been. It had happened before that the first indication of trouble was a chance visitation by an apparently harmless drunk. They were usually of the laughing kind.

Six months ago, when he'd just started working at the liquor store - and he knew it was a bad mistake, he'd known it from the start, with absolute certainty that time - one of those came in to buy some rye. The bastard didn't have any money, so he told his awful jokes and hoped to make a friend of him. And if David was his friend, the guy must have thought, well then maybe he'd give him something off the shelf for free. David had just stood there quaking all the time, while this would-be friend was telling those knowing kinds of stories about the girls, you know, the ones around the corner, how he was friends with them and if you needed any introduction well just ask that's all you have to do, and he went on to describe a few of them, what they liked, what they were good for, how much they usually charged but you don't have to worry about that, not with my connections, and then the laugh.

He knew he ought to throw the guy right out of there, but he couldn't move, and when the guy in charge came up out of the stockroom in the basement he looked over at David in the strangest way, and just listened for a minute or two before he finally came over and said come on now Ivan, time to go, and the drunk had left without a fuss. The guy, his name was Jerry, said, so what's the matter with you? It's only Ivan. Next time you tell him go right off, he'll go, the man's a lush, he's easy. David nodded and said okay I didn't know and Jerry shook his head, said Geez, and turned away. David didn't last another night, because he couldn't deal with anything. And it later dawned on him that Ivan was the sign, and he should have known that it was time to go. But I stayed, he thought, because I told myself I wouldn't run away again. Someone sent that big man in the next night with that gun, that grin, those great big thieving hands.

I can't have someone who just gives my money away, the owner of the store said later when he came, when the police had called him in. David had thought he'd done the only thing he could - a guy that big and with a gun, he didn't want to die. But the man didn't come for money, no, David knew that he'd been sent, that he was out to get him, he'd been paid, and David was relieved he'd made it through alive. Now this Santa Claus might be another sign. I should stay away from there, he thought. He knows where I am now. He always finds out soon enough. He had a theory that the casual drunks went back somewhere reporting on where they'd been and who they saw, and that's how he knew where to find him every time. The drunks were spies, and he knew how to use them.

Friday he got hungry but he didn't go outside. He was undecided. It was another sunny day, and he was tempted to look out the window at the little park, to see his guardian pigeons out there looking around for him. He wanted to, but he didn't go out, and he didn't eat all day. He just lay there in the bed telling himself that everything was going to be all right, that maybe Santa wouldn't tell, and he wouldn't be found out just yet. It was a possibility. Sometimes he'd gone through three or four of them before one went and told. He'd made it as long as seven months one place, and in that time he must have seen a hundred crazies and a thousand drunks. He'd almost managed to convince himself that it was finally over with that time, but then, of course, it wasn't. Maybe he's just letting me think that. Maybe he's just setting me up, waiting until I'm good and calm and settled, and sure enough it started again one day. There must have been some bona fide signs. I just missed them. I was overconfident. I was fooled.

On Saturday he did go out and the first thing he did was eat two breakfasts at McDonald's on the way. Then he felt much better. He walked to work enjoying the mild, warm morning sun, and got there much too early. He had to wait around out front for Gwen to show, and when she finally did he could tell right off that she wasn't glad to see him. He was cheerful, good morning, he said, how are you? She just said Hi and went right by him, opened the door and went inside. He followed her into the store and waited by the front while she got the money and the lights. Listen, she said, I've got some work to do, so I'm just going to leave you here up front, okay? No problem, David said, and he sincerely meant it.

It took him awhile to figure out that she was weird about the other night, because of how he changed when Santa Claus came in. He felt he really should explain. They'd been getting along so well. He'd even begun to talk, and was going to ask about her too if it lasted long enough. It didn't, but he still felt that it could work out fine as long as he was left alone by drunks and crazy people. I only need some time without them, David thought, and he was feeling better. Every time she came up or just passed by he started to talk to her, but she went off without a pause, without a word in reply. Finally she couldn't avoid him any more, because she had to cover for his lunch hour, which meant she had to go up there and tell him he could go. But he wasn't hungry yet. He wanted to talk, not eat.

He had been debating whether or not to do it, and he had decided no, not now, but then he couldn't help himself when she was there and he just started saying, you know, about the other night, with Santa Claus, and after? I can explain. It's really nothing to worry about. Who said I was worried, Gwen replied, and she really didn't care. I don't want to hear his story, she told herself, but he was going on with it. It's just that sometimes when I see a drunk like that, well, it's kind of like a warning, I don't know. It has to do with things that happened in the past. Great, she thought, now it is confession time, oh boy. So what? she said, your father was a drunk or what?

No, no, not my father, David said, not him. The others. I don't even know them. You see, there is this problem that I have... and he didn't quite know how he should say it, whether to go ahead and spill it out or dress it up a little bit. Gwen didn't want to hear about his problem. She was going to say, look, if you don't want to go to lunch, then I will, okay? But she didn't get the chance because he'd started in again. There's this man, he said, he talks to all the crazies and the drunks, and he is one of them, so it's easy for him to talk to them, he knows them all. Even in a new town it doesn't take him very long to get to know them all, and that's why moving doesn't work. It doesn't help. I know. I've tried. But anyway he talks to them and they tell him where they've been and who they've seen and where, and I think he must like finding out these things, like he's playing spy - it must be only playing, not a real spy, you know, because he's crazy and the real spies are not - but he plays like he's a spy and he finds things out and then he goes around and spots the people they have told him where they are, you know?

Well, what happens is he does these things to them - to the people that he finds that way. He follows them around and he does things so he ruins what they have, you know, their jobs, their homes, their girlfriends and all, he does these sneaky little things and you never see him doing them, you never see him at all. You wonder why the things are going wrong, but you don't know at first. You think that maybe you are going nuts, or else it's just incredible bad luck, this cloud that follows you around, but later on it's just too much, and you figure out what's really going on is this guy doing these things to you. It's the only explanation. So what happens is that I have been observing all the patterns since it started and I noticed that as soon as there's a drunk who talks to me, not always but sometimes he must go tell him afterwards that he has found out where I am, and then he starts again, ruining everything the way he does. So that's why when I saw the drunk I got that way. You see? It's really very simple.

You're out of your mind, Gwen said. You're just another nut. I knew it. I knew it the moment I saw you coming in the door last week. Christ! No, I'm not, he said, no, really, I am not. I know it sounds like maybe I could be, but I'm telling you the truth, I really am. I don't want you to think that. Gwen lost all her patience then, she just turned around and started in with You don't want me to think that, huh? You weirdo! What? You think I can't tell? You think that I have no experience with people like you? Well, let me tell you, David, you're just another in a long line of absolutely psycho loons I've had to deal with in this store. If you weren't nuts, you think Joe would have hired you? Huh? What do you know? He only hires sickos! Every single of them. You're just the new freak on the block.

I don't understand, David said, and Gwen just laughed. Oh, you don't understand. I get it. You are just a total innocent and some monster from the planet Zygor just decided it would come and ruin everything for you or something, okay? Right! You think I have never heard that kind of shit before? You don't know anything, do you? Not a thing. Well, just listen, all right? Last spring we had this girl in here - her name was Jill and she was just another sicko creep like you. You wanna know her story? Well, I'll tell you anyway. See, she told me that there was this little tiny girl who killed her dad while he was in the bathtub, right? She dropped a radio in there. Zzz! Fried him right up! But then, Jill said, this little girl was punished by the saint who watches over things like this, and he never let her grow, so she just stayed the same size that she was when she was ten years old ever since that time.

She was almost thirty now, and still this awful little tiny girl had never grown an inch or gained a pound. She had no tits. She had no pubic hair. She had no sex at all. That's what Jill said, anyway. Well, who do you think that was, huh? Just some little girl that she happened to meet one day? No. That was her. And you weren't around here when she went berserk and holed up in the office with the staple gun and tore all the papers back there into tiny little pieces. You weren't around here when they dragged her off all roped and tied and gagged still kicking and trying to scream her tiny little head off. But you know what else? She started out here just like you - a little quiet, a little shy. Maybe just a little nervous too but that is only natural, we thought, on anybody's first day at work. Yeah, that is what we thought. And soon enough, out come the sicko stories, the crazy little fantasies. I know what's coming next. I know all about you people.

David was astonished. It was too much information all at once, too much was going on here that he didn't know about, and he didn't know what to say. He stood there looking stupid and confused, and then Gwen said, oh, that's not all. She wasn't the first and she certainly wasn't the last. You know what Joe did after Jill was gone? He dragged that old Help Wanted sign out one more time and stuck it in the window. Next crazy that came in, he hired him. Didn't even look at all the normal applications. Joe is just as crazy as you are, and that's a fact. He's just as weird as you, and just as weird as Martin. He's the guy we just got rid of. You want to know about him too?

David didn't really want to know, but Gwen was going to tell him anyway. That creep, she said, that piece of shit still follows me around, he makes phone calls in the middle of the night, he sends nasty letters in the mail, he hangs out by the subway stop. We called the cops on him, and they put him away for a couple of days, but now he's out again. He's still out there. I've got enough to deal with without your crazy story. So I don't want to hear about it. I don't even want you here. You could do me a favor. Just get lost. Just go away. Right now. And she got so worked up she started crying and before he could say a word or lift a hand to comfort her she had fled back to the office, and she didn't come out again for hours. In the meantime he just stood there at the counter, absent-mindedly selling things to people when they came. He had to think about all that. He couldn't think about it now. He didn't know what to think.

Later that night, Gwen called Bobby up and told her what was going on. She told her all about his story, and Bobby said she knew. She told Gwen about the interview. But that's not all, Gwen said. I went back out there finally when I stopped being upset and he was like, oh, how can I describe what he was like? He just looked so pathetic, like he was totally lost, like a little boy alone somewhere and he didn't know where he was or how he even got there. He didn't answer when I talked to him. He just stood there glassy-eyed and kept glancing out the window every other second. It's funny, you know, I was going to apologize. I was even going to say that maybe he was telling me the truth but I'm still so upset about the Martin thing, I really was going to say I'm sorry and I didn't mean it, but something must have happened in the meantime, because he got that way again, the way he did on Thursday only this time it was worse.

Finally he said something and I didn't catch it all but it was something like I saw him, he's right there, or something and I looked out of the window and there wasn't anyone at all. He's right there, he said again, and I said, no he's not, there isn't anyone. But he kept on like that the whole rest of the day, so finally I just sent him home at five and did the rest alone. Bobby, I'm telling you, he is sick. He's sicker than the other ones. Really, he is. Bobby said, well, I didn't think he was that bad, and Gwen said yes, he is. I'm afraid he's going to flip right out on us. It could happen any time. I know it. We've got to get him out of there. I don't care how it happens. Bobby said, well, I will talk to Mike and maybe we can work it out, okay? Gwen said, tell him this, if he doesn't get rid of David, I will quit. I mean it. I don't want to go. You know that. But I will quit, I just can't take it any more.

Bobby tried to talk to Mike, but he wasn't very receptive. He kept saying the same thing over and over again. He seemed perfectly all right to me, he said, Gwen's just still upset because of Martin. What about Jill? Bobby reminded him, and what about Ron? It isn't Gwen. I know her. She's as sane as anyone I ever knew. If she says he is crazy then he is. After all, she's the one who has to work with him. Mike just said, well, I worked with him too, on Monday, and he was perfectly all right. She just needs some more time to get used to him. Bobby knew it was no use. Mike would not be swayed. All he ever knew was what he saw, and he didn't believe that Jill was nuts until that day - and if he hadn't of been there to see it for himself, maybe he never would have believed it. Sometimes she got so angry with her husband. Why are you such an ox? she'd say. Why are you so stupid, so stubborn, so, oh, why? And he didn't know what she was taking about. He didn't understand.

CHAPTER FIVE

It was time to have a talk with Joe. I've been putting it off too long, she thought, and things weren't getting any better. They were getting worse. Gwen was gone, and Bobby felt that maybe it was her fault to some degree. I should have had a talk with him a long, long time ago. She couldn't talk to Mike, and anyway, Mike really wasn't the problem. He was simply unconcerned. Once he'd left these matters up to Joe, he didn't bother with them anymore. He had a stupid kind of loyalty to his older brother, one she couldn't really understand. Joe and Mike had always gotten along all right, as far as Bobby knew. When they were kids they were pals, did everything together. The only times they weren't with each other was when Mike was working in the store and Joe was not, but otherwise, from what she'd heard, they were inseparable.

They were an unlikely pair. Joe was tall and thin, had lousy eyesight and started going bald when he was twenty one. He was quiet, slow, methodical, and never made a movement that he didn't seem to have carefully considered first. Mike was short and bulky, dark haired, energetic, active. He was always in motion, always doing something. He was extremely quick when it came to things about the store, but impenetrably slow on other matters. Bobby had made up to him for over a year before he realized that she was interested. She had been the one to ask him out on all their dates. She had popped the question. If she'd waited for him to do it, they wouldn't be married yet.

Mike was loud and cheerful, always ready with a positive thought, always thinking the best of everything and everyone. It wasn't that he was dumb, because he wasn't, but because he felt it was the happiest way to live, and he was right. She knew he was. Still she wished he was a bit more critical, a little bit more observant, more aware of subtle things. Mike could have been his father's twin. Joe didn't seem to be related to the senior Mike at all. Greg, the little one, was just like Mike in many ways, but he was adventurous, always moving on, never getting himself caught up in any one thing too long. Bobby had never known their mother, never knew much about her. Mike didn't have much to say about her, and Joe never mentioned her at all.

It was all a bit too much for Bobby. She never wanted to get married to this business, only to Mike, but the one had come with the other and there was no separating them. As it was, she tried to keep her distance from the store. She went in first thing in the morning and did the bank deposits, bought the change, and sorted out the accounts books, recording the incoming invoices, and making notes on who to pay and how much and when. This usually took her until around eleven, and then she went out for the afternoon. She did some volunteer work at a local day care center, and that occupied her time from noon till four. Afterwards she came back to the store and wrote some checks and hung around till closing.

I'm there enough, she thought, enough to make Mike happy - for he wanted her to be involved. He was gung ho on the family stuff, and every time she hinted that maybe Joe could do the books he said, but what'll you do then? Do you want to work the floor? No, she didn't want to work the floor. She'd made that clear a long, long time ago. I'm your wife, she said, I'm not a clerk. But sometimes she would tell herself that if she worked the floor on Thursday nights and Saturdays they wouldn't need a part time person at all. Several times she'd even done it for awhile. But it wasn't what she wanted, and anyway the daycare work was what she most enjoyed, and she wasn't going to give that up for anything. There had to be another solution. That one wasn't it.

I have to have a talk with Joe, she told herself, and when he came in to work that morning she went right to it. Joe, she said, we have to talk. What's up? he asked. It's about Gwen, she said. Oh, yeah. God, that's just too bad. And she'd been here for so long. I thought she liked it here. She does, Bobby said, she did, I mean. She didn't want to quit. She just couldn't take it anymore. She'd come back though in a minute, if only... If only what? he asked. Joe, Bobby said, we have to do something about the part time people situation. I know, he said, I know. I guess we're going to need another one again. You mean you're firing David? she asked. No, of course not, no, he said.

Joe was puzzled. Of course he wasn't going to fire the guy. After all, he'd just hired him a week and a half ago. What was Bobby talking about? He said, well, I thought that, now that Gwen is gone, we can put David on full time. And that means we'll have to hire another one part time. Oh Jesus, Bobby thought. Well, it's now or never. Joe, she said, I know it's not my place, and I really don't want to be the one to say it, but I don't think you should be hiring these people. Joe said, I can't help it if no one else applies. That isn't what I mean, she said. It isn't just the people - it's you I mean. I don't understand, he said.

I've seen you, Bobby told him, when you do those interviews. You're all at sea. You don't know what to do. I don't know why, but you get all weird. You don't really want to hire them. I don't know what you want from them - maybe it's just to talk or something, I don't know, but then you end up hiring them just because they're there, just because you called them in you feel you have to hire them, but you don't really want to, do you? I don't know, he said. He leaned back in his chair frowning, tapping a pencil on the desk. Bobby, he said, I just don't know.

How could he explain to her the things that went on in his mind. He had never been able to talk to her. She was always the one who knew it all, who knew everything before he had a chance to speak, like now. She knows, he thought, but what does she want me to do? She was waiting for him to talk. I really don't want to hurt his feelings, Bobby thought, and she didn't agree with Gwen that Joe was sick, not even a little bit. It's just that he gets weird, she had defended him. Gwen had laughed and said, that's just the same thing, isn't it? Weird, strange, crazy, whatever you want to call it. Some people just can't handle the normal things in life, like meeting people, talking to them, knowing what to do. That's what makes them sick.

Joe said, It just happens all at once, you know. They come into the office, they sit down, I start to talk to them, and suddenly it seems like there's no choice. There they are. They're already a part of things. And after I talk to them for just a little while it seems like they have been there all the time in any case so it's just a formal thing. I just don't know. Maybe I just lose track... He didn't go on. Bobby wondered if he meant he lost track of the time or place, or of reality in general. She didn't know what he meant. Don't you think it would be better, Bobby said, if someone else did that part of the job? You mean Mike? he asked. Yes, Mike, she said. You're probably right, Joe said, I'm sure he wouldn't have that problem, but I don't know. Mike likes everyone, you see? He'd hire whoever came in the door, first come first serve. Would that be any better? I don't know, she said. She hadn't thought of that. He might be right.

She couldn't think of anything else to say. She'd said what she'd intended to, but it didn't turn out the way she thought it would. She'd expected him to say, well, if you think Mike should do it then well that's okay with me, because Joe was such a weakling sometimes, Bobby thought, he'd do anything I told him to. He'd say you are right, of course, you always are, but somehow it didn't happen, and he'd thwarted her intentions. She had to think about it now. Maybe he is right this time, not me. Maybe there won't be any solution to the problem. If Joe can't do it and Mike can't do it either, and I don't want to do it, and there isn't anybody else now Gwen is gone, maybe there won't be any answer. She wanted to get up and leave the store right then. The thoughts were frightening her. It will just go on and on like this, she thought, only now, without Gwen, there will be two weirdoes in the store. And then? What next? There was no end in sight.

Joe had a talk with David Monday morning. It was a difficult conversation for them both. David had spent all Sunday trying desperately to get his balance back. He'd lain in bed and told himself that there was no crazy man out there who was following him around and ruining everything he did. I'm just imagining it, he thought. And he thought maybe Gwen was right, maybe it is me, maybe I'm the crazy one, and it occurred to him that this theory fit the facts more closely than the other one. But if it's true, he thought, then I would have no way to know. If I'm crazy then I can't know I am, and if somebody else tells me I am crazy, how do I know it isn't them?

This was something he had thought about a lot. There were all those people out there on the street, just wandering around. No one ever helped them out, no one took care of them. Maybe they were impossible to talk to. Maybe they couldn't be helped. Sometimes they'd be just like normal human beings, but only for awhile, and during that time there'd be no need for them to go and find some help, because they were all right. And then when they were out of it again they wouldn't go find help because they couldn't because they weren't sane enough to think of it. And who is going to help them anyway? The normal people? But when they're normal, which is usually, they can't understand the other kind, and when they're not, which happens to them all at some time or another, they can understand, but they can't help because they're out of it. These thoughts confused him, but he felt he understood why no one seemed to help them - because the whole thing was impossible.

What if Gwen was crazy? How could David know if she was telling him the truth about this Martin? And wasn't she just saying the same thing that he was , that there was some crazy man who followed her around and tried to ruin her life? Why couldn't she see that it was just the same for him? Only he didn't know his follower, and she did. That was the only difference, as far as he could see. If it was even true. She sure seemed normal, though, but maybe that's because she hasn't been living with it long enough. We'll see what happens to her after this Martin guy's been bothering her for a few years, following her all around the country, everywhere she goes, we'll see what she's like then. She will be just like me, he thought. She'll be nervous all the time. She'll be scared to death. And that's really what I am, he thought, I'm scared. It's going to happen again and soon. I know it is. Nothing's going well. I was stupid to think it might.

The signs were clear. First there was the old man puking in the street. And then the Santa Claus right after that, just a few hours later. And then on Saturday he'd seen a woman pushing a supermarket cart around, piled high with stinking rags and plastic cans. She had no teeth, and she was muttering fiercely about something, he couldn't hear what it was because she was outside on the sidewalk and he was in the store behind the counter. But she'd looked at him. She'd looked straight at him and then she started to yell and shake her fist. She said, you're the one, god damn you. He's going to send you all to hell! It was the clearest sign that there could be. It had really freaked him out. It took all Sunday day and night to calm down once again, and he didn't know why he bothered any more. It's all ruined for me again. The job's already over. I shouldn't even bother to go back. I should run away while there's still time.

He did go back, though, Sunday had accomplished that at least. And he was stunned when Joe was asking him if he wanted to go on full time. I mean, Joe said, now that Gwen's gone, well, we really need someone to work her shift. It'll mean a raise too. And you've done all right so far. I guess you've got it down. Joe was almost mumbling. As far as he could tell, it had already happened - David was already there, he was doing okay, they needed him fulltime so it was bound to happen. He knew that David needed the money, needed the job. He didn't like having to go through with this in all the details. Just say yes, he thought, and David did say yes and that was that. There was only one more thing to do. Joe went over to the cabinet and picked up the sign - oh, one more thing, he said to David as he was about to leave the room. Could you put this sign up in the window, please?

David took the sign and went up front. As he bent to tape it on the window he looked up and saw, across the street, an old man climbing into a taxi cab. He saw a woman waiting for her dog to finish pissing on a wall. He saw a forty seven bus go by. He saw the traffic light turn from red to green. He saw nothing unusual at all. He couldn't get over it. This isn't what I thought would happen today, he thought. A fulltime job. A raise. And here I am putting up the same sign in the window that first got me here. He smiled. How's it going, Dave? Mike said from somewhere off behind. Just great, David said. Good, said Mike. I hear your taking Gwen's old place. Too bad she's gone. She was really great. Well, after Martin, well, you probably know about all that. Can't really blame the girl. That kind of thing can really get to you.

I guess so, David said, and suddenly it occurred to him that now he was going to get a chance to really work with Mike, not just be there at the front while Mike was going around doing stuff, but being there to help him, help him price things, put them out. This is really good, he thought, and he felt that Mike could teach him how to get along more than anybody ever could. He expected a lot from that. All I need is someone who can show me how, he thought. It's been a long time since I really had a friend, and he felt that Mike could be the best one he could have. Things are going to work out fine, he told himself. And he went to work. Later, pricing stacks of legal pads, he felt like he had been there all his life, and that nothing else had ever really happened.

The next day Joe picked up the applications from the front. there were four of them. He took them back into the office and slowly looked them over. He decided that this time he was going to go about it differently. He'd show Bobby all the forms and ask her what she thought. Maybe if she helps out it will turn out better, he told himself. But none of the applications stood out in any way. One was from a teenage girl who needed a summer job, but it was almost august already and she'd be going back to school before too long. Another was from a guy who made ten bucks an hour at the bank and wanted "a change of pace". He also wanted seven bucks an hour to start. The third was from a woman who plainly stated that she had an offer for another job but it didn't start until September and she needed something in the meantime. Joe could understand that, and he was also tempted because she was so honest about the thing. But then he thought we really need some one who's going to stick around. I want this one to be that last one for awhile.

That left only one more application, so there wasn't any need to ask for Bobby's advice. And anyway, he wasn't worried about this one. It seemed straightforward enough. He was in his early thirties, had been in the army several years ago. Since then he'd worked at various counseling jobs, but now, he wrote, he was tired of the war, and he wanted a totally different atmosphere. He'd always wanted to work in a little shop like this, he wrote, because it seems so ordinary, normal, and sane. All he wanted, he wrote, was an honest job for honest pay. Joe thought he sounded promising. And also, he was curious about the man. He wondered what it would be like to be a counselor. Surely that was more rewarding than a little retail job. He wanted to ask about it. He wanted to know this man. So he called him up and made an appointment to see him in the morning. This could the last time, Joe thought, and he sincerely hoped it was.

CHAPTER SIX

Joe told Bobby about the interview, and asked if she could be there. Maybe that will help, he said, and she agreed. She was all prepared for the worst, but when he showed her Jim's application, she felt that maybe it wasn't going to be so bad this time. And when the man arrived, she was actually impressed with him. He was tall and rather handsome, though his face showed traces of old bruises she assumed he'd gotten in the war. They weren't enough to ruin his appearance, but gave him a sort of rugged look. His hair was dark and thick, his eyes were brown and set back deep. He had an air of confidence about him that was the first thing that she noticed. She always liked that in a man. It showed he knew his mind, and she was never comfortable with people who seemed unsure about themselves.

He was polite in greeting them, and took the offered swivel chair. Joe sat back behind the desk, and, as usual, did not know how to start. He looked over the application once again, but didn't speak for a minute or two. Bobby noticed that he wasn't as nervous as he'd been before, with David and the others. Another good sign, she thought. She smiled at Jim. He smiled back. And then he began the interview. So, Jim said, you've got a nice place here. I like it. Why thank you, Bobby said, so do we. You know, she went right on, it's been in this family for more than eighty years. Is that a fact? He marveled. I didn't know there were places like that anymore. Are you the present owner? he asked. Oh no, she said, I'm just Mike's wife. Mike is Joe's brother. Their grandfather is the one that started this place off.

Eighty years, Jim said, and then he looked at Joe and said, so, you must have spent an awful lot of time in here over the years. Been working here since you were a kid? Oh, um, not really, Joe spoke up. Mike's the one that really, the one who does, the one who's always.. Yes, I see, said Jim, Mike takes after the old man, right? That's exactly right, said Bobby, it's just like they were twins. Sometimes he seems so much like his dad it's unbelievable. Well, there's one in every bunch, said Jim, that's how the genes keep getting through. Bobby laughed, but Joe did not. He was marveling at how easily this man had taken over the interview, right from the start.

So where do you fit in? Jim asked, and Joe said, well, I do my share. We're partners, really. Mike does all the work out there, and I do all the stuff in here. Joe felt he hadn't said enough, but then, why should I be answering him at all? He's supposed to be answering my questions. So why don't I ask him any? He couldn't find the words. It was Bobby who said, I think your application is just fascinating. I think it's wonderful that there are people out there helping others like you do, but I can't understand why you're here right now, why you wrote all that about an honest job? Don't you like what you are doing? Jim settled back and put his hands behind his head. He would have put his feet up on the desk if he wasn't sitting too far away from it.

Well Bobby, he said, I'll tell you how it is. You ever heard of burnout? That's exactly what I have. I mean, I was in the war, I went through all that stuff myself, and ever since I came back here it's like I never left. I'm still dealing with it every day. Now, I got over the whole thing long ago. I mean, a war's a war and its bound to leave some scars, but there have been so many wars and so many people have gone through them and you just have to get past the thing, get over it, you know? I can understand these other guys, the ones I'm working with. I know it isn't easy, but after awhile it just started getting to me, you know? I just don't want to hear about it anymore. I want to put the whole thing far behind me now, just get away from it for good.

But what about some other kind of counseling? she asked, I mean, you have the training and I see you have degrees and all. Don't you want to find some other area where you can still help other people but with different problems? I mean, there's all kinds of people with all kinds of problems out there, and they all need some kind of help. It seems to me, but then I'm not you so I can't really say but with your background and all that it seems to me that you could do a lot of good. It doesn't have to be just veterans you could help, you know?

Well, there's a lot of truth in what you say, he said, and then he paused as if considering his next words carefully. But you know, he finally said, it isn't required of anybody in this life that they devote themselves to helping other people. It's just like when you read the paper - everybody's got an opinion about everything, and there's no one who ever said that it's required of everyone to have an opinion. It's not, and it's not required that any one do this or that or anything. So I don't feel obligated to continue with the kind of work I've done. If I want to change, well, why shouldn't I change? And anyway, all I know is death. People who don't have any problems with death, well, I can't really help them. I don't know about any other kind of problem.

He laughed, and said, I mean, if they're worrying about losing weight or something, what the hell do I care? It's none of my business. And if they're worried that their girlfriend doesn't love them anymore, that's none of my business either. If they think they're going nuts because of all the changes in the interest rates, there's nothing I can do for them. I just know soldiers problems - killing and being killed, waking up in the middle of the night and thinking you're in mud up to your head and bombs are going off and all your buddies' bones are stacking up beside you. I can deal with that. But I don't want to any more. You know what it is? He laughed again, it's just morbid. I don't know how I ever got myself into all that stuff.

Bobby was nodding all the while he spoke, and Joe was chewing on a pencil, listening intently but not knowing what to make of all of this. It was what he wanted, to hear about all this stuff, that's why he'd called him in. But as for anything else, he didn't know. What am I supposed to say? he asked himself, tell him about the hours? After all of that? Well, war and death and bombs is very nice, but can you work from four to eight on Thursdays? It seemed ridiculous. What is this man doing here? he asked himself. What is going on? He was trying to find the words to phrase his question, when Jim asked him, how come I see that sign out there so often? What sign? Joe asked.

That Help Wanted sign, he said. You know I walk by this store every day, and I could swear I've seen that sign out there at least a half a dozen times in the past two years. What's the story? No one sticks around? It was Bobby who answered, we've had some trouble in the past getting part time help. It just seems that everyone we get turns out to be some kind of flake or worse. You ought to be more careful who you hire, Jim said. There's a lot of nuts out there. I know. I have to deal with them all the time. Bobby shrugged, and Jim went on. Well, I know how it is, he said. There is a kind of fascination with the strange, you know? Sometimes I've fallen into it myself. You see them all around and you just wonder, what are they really like? You want to get up closer, get a better view.

It's not like that, Joe blurted out. He was getting angry now, and he didn't know why. It just happened, he said. They seemed all right to me. They needed a job and they seemed all right and so I hired them. They only got weird later. Bobby turned to Jim and said, well, some of them were kind of strange at first. Why is she talking to him that way? Joe wondered. Whose side is she on? She just met this guy this morning and she's known me for years. He said, well, if they were, I couldn't tell. And no one told me different, he said pointedly to Bobby. She just raised her eyebrows knowingly to Jim. Jim nodded, and he said, it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's like I said. Sometimes you want to watch them, see what they're about.

It makes you feel more normal, Jim went on, if you've got some lunatic around. I think that's what the fascination is, part of it at least. You want to be sure they're really not like you, that they're really different. You want to be sure that there's a line, and they are on the other side of it. You couldn't be like them, you think, and it makes you feel safer. At least that's what you think. But then it gets to you, and it's really not so easy. You see, it really doesn't work. You want to think that you could never be like that, but the more you deal with them, the closer you are to them, the more it seems like they're not really all that different after all, they're much more like you than you want to think. That's when things get weird.

I don't know what you're talking about, Joe said, and anyway, all this has nothing to do with the job and why you're here. Oh, right, the job, Jim laughed, I almost forgot all about it. I just got carried away, you know, sitting around, shooting the breeze, it's nice. I like it here. Bobby said, I still don't understand. There's got to be a place for a man like you somewhere where you can use your training and your skills. I'm sure there is, he laughed, but I don't want to use them anymore. I want to just get out of it completely. You know, this helping business ain't all it's cracked up to be, and he laughed again.

Suddenly Joe found the words he'd wanted to say in the first place. It surprised him when he thought of them. He didn't know why he wanted to find out, but he couldn't stop himself from asking, so, did you kill a lot of people in the war? Bobby said, Joe! and Jim stopped laughing and sat up straight. He was startled for a moment, more by the way Joe asked than by the question itself. It seemed like he was being accused, and he hastened to justify himself. War is war, he said, no one really kills anybody in a war. I mean, it isn't really killing, in a way. It's just the job you have to do. When you kill someone, it's usually for a reason, something personal, or something you get out of it. But war... I suppose a bunch of people died from things I did, but I didn't really kill them. I didn't know them and I didn't get anything out of it for myself.

Joe thought about it for a moment, and then he said, it's just that you keep hearing stories about old soldiers who can't get it out of their system. There are some of those, Jim said, and they are just the kind I've gotten sick and tired of. Sometimes I think that they and we'd be better off if they were dead themselves. Bobby said, you don't really mean that, after all, they just need help. Sometimes, Jim replied, there isn't any help, there can't be any help. There are people who are too far gone, they can't come back, and no one can bring them back. No one said a word for several moments, and it seemed the interview was over, though it never really started. Finally it was Jim who broke the quiet when he asked, so, tell me about this job. How many hours is it? What's the pay? Joe told him and Jim said it was okay with him. He would rather have full time but he had money saved up and it was worth it just to start him getting away from the veterans stuff.

Joe told him he could start on Monday if he liked, and Jim said that would be just great. He went on to say how glad he was about it, and how nice it was to meet them, and how good it felt to have that little talk, all the while convincing Bobby that he was exactly who she thought he was. As he got up he said to Joe, you know, if you want to check my references and call me later with your decision, that'll be okay with me? You don't have to make up your mind right now. But Joe said that it wouldn't be necessary, he was sure that everything would be all right, and they would see him Monday then, okay? And then he left.

He waved goodbye to Mike and David as he reached the door and went outside, and they did not know who he was. Mike waved goodbye in any case, and then went back to what he had been talking about with David. Usually in the morning, he said, the first thing that you want to do is make sure everything looks nice. I know we've straightened up before we left the night before, but just in case we missed a thing or two you go around and make sure everything looks nice, okay? Okay, David said, and Mike said, fine. And then, he went on, we get deliveries mostly in the morning and they have to be checked in. I'll show you where the papers go and everything. We do the work up here. No sense in lugging all those boxes down into the stockroom, right? just the extra stuff that doesn't fit on the shelves gets put down there.

Now, you get the prices off the invoice here and you have to make sure everything is priced. I know that it's a lot of stupid work, but it makes the whole thing easier for the customer and for us, so they can tell how much it costs and doesn't have to ask us all the time, okay? Sounds right to me, said David. Fine, said Mike. There's nothing to it, really, he continued. You'll get to know the whole thing in a month or less. The rest is customer service, and I can't emphasize too much how important that is around here - especially you and me. We're the ones that deal with the public, okay? When you're just doing it part time, well, you do mostly counter work, but now you're going to be full time, you're almost like a partner. It's your business too. David nodded again, and said okay.

Fine, said Mike. I think you're going to be okay. Just be helpful, friendly, that's all it takes. They all love it and it makes life easier, all right? You're right, said David. Fine, said Mike. Mike went on and on repeating pretty much the same ideas over and over again, and David didn't mind. He liked the way Mike talked, the way he treated people. This guy really knows how to put someone at ease, he thought. He makes you feel like you're his friend, even if you hardly know him. It would be nice to be like that, he thought, and he hoped that he could learn. It truly made a lot of sense to him. Mike was right. If you're open, honest, plain, then life is that much more enjoyable and easy.

David thought that it had been a long time since any one had talked to him this way. Usually people were blunt and cold - they spat their words in a variety of tentative tones. They had an attitude. They sized you up and marked you from the start. They formed their judgments right away, and changed them every moment for the worse. They never took the time to realize that you were a person too. They never waited for your answers to their questions. They already knew what you were going to say, which was what they expected to hear, in any case. Mike was not like that. Mike was different. And he felt more at ease with him than he had felt with anyone in months, or even years. This full time thing is going to work out fine, he thought. You never know. Maybe it's the start of something altogether new.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Bobby had been cheerful all week long. She hadn't dreaded going to the store at all. She was even thinking that David was going to be okay. Certainly he'd been nice enough, and happy. He'd learned how to really smile again, and was doing his job well enough. She could barely remember her first impression of him at the interview, as if that had all happened so long ago it didn't matter anymore, and she'd seen no indications of the strange behavior Gwen had talked about. He's a typical young man, she thought. Once he'd gotten over the initial nervousness at being at a new place and all that, he'd settled in quite easily. She had even come to believe that Gwen had been imagining it - certainly she was all prepared to do so. Maybe she was, as Mike suggested, merely projecting her worries about Martin onto David. That seemed reasonable enough.

And Jim was almost perfect. From the time he showed up Monday morning he'd been in full control, grasping everything immediately. He didn't need to be told anything more than once before he had it down. Already, in just one day, he'd memorized the stock and the entire layout of the store. Not only that, but he was wonderful with customers. They loved him. He was not ingratiating or false with them, but made them feel intelligent and important in a way she'd never seen anybody do before. She was surprised, then, on that Thursday morning, when Mike announced at breakfast that he didn't like the guy.

I don't know what it is, he said, there's just something about the man that I don't trust. That's strange, Bobby said, I don't feel that way at all. I wonder why you think so. Joe looked up from his cereal and seemed about to say something, but then he didn't, and looked away. What do you think, Joe? his brother asked, and Joe just shrugged and murmured, he seems okay to me. Hmm! Mike wasn't satisfied with that. He struggled to put his impressions into words, something he was never very good at. Finally he said, you know what it is? He reminds me of someone. Who? Bobby asked. Ron, he said, and then she laughed and Joe glanced up startled for a second.

You remember Ron, don't you Joe? Mike teased, and Joe got up from the table and went to rinse his bowl out in the sink. Come off it, Mike, Bobby said, that isn't nice, and anyway. he doesn't remind me of Ron at all. I don't know why you say so. Ron was always so quiet, so untouchable, and Jim is talkative and open - he reminds me more of you than anybody else. Me? Mike said in disbelief, don't talk nonsense, dear. He's no more like me than, than, oh I don't know, like an apple is a pear. Bobby chuckled, who's talking nonsense now, she said. No, I really mean it, Mike said. You remember, I never did like Ron, right from the start - there was always something about the guy that really gave me the creeps. Don't you think so, Joe?

Joe turned around and biting his lip said, don't ask me, Mike, I don't want to talk about it. He thought of leaving the kitchen right then, just going back to bed and staying there until his brother and his wife were gone to work. He was furious with them, and he wasn't sure why. They were acting strangely, that was it. Here's Mike saying how he never liked Ron when he never said a thing back then, he never said a word about it and how was Joe supposed to know in any case, could he tell him that? It was not my fault, he thought, and it wasn't like Mike to act this way, to bring the subject up and keep reminding him. What's gotten into you? He said to Mike, what's the matter with you guys today?

Mike put down his coffee cup and stared at the football calendar on the wall. Right from the start, he thought, I never liked that Ron. But he knew he wasn't being fair to Joe. He had learned from that experience that if he really had a feeling about someone like he did then then he should mention it up front and make it clear. He didn't usually have such feelings. He was always prepared to think the best of other people. But he had been quiet about his sense of Ron, and that was why he was speaking up now about this other guy. He's just too smart, said Mike, and Bobby laughed and said, I thought that's what it was. You don't like 'em to be too smart. It makes you feel inferior. I do not feel inferior, Mike said, that isn't what I mean at all. I just mean that he's too smart, there's something wrong with this. I mean, what's he doing in a store like ours? He shouldn't be there. A guy like that, he should be teaching at the university or something, not working part time in a dumpy little store.

Since when is DeBarrie's just a dumpy little store, I'd like to know, said Joe. Mike was getting on his nerves. Okay okay, I take it back, said Mike, I didn't really mean it. But still, how do we know he's really who he says he is? Now what are you talking about, said Bobby, you're really not yourself this morning, you know? I can't help it, Mike said, I just keep thinking about it. Like with Ron. Remember? He said he had a Ph D. So maybe he did, said Bobby, no one ever said he didn't. Yeah, Mike said, but if he had a Ph D then why did he flip out like that? Maybe he was just too smart, Joe said. Yeah, that's what I mean, Mike said and Bobby put in, I don't understand you two at all. Just because a guy has brains it doesn't mean he's strange or anything. You're just jealous, both of you, that's all it is, and she suddenly stood up and marched out of the room.

I wonder what's eating her up, Mike said, and Joe turned to him and said, you are. Why do you have to bring up Ron again? What's the matter with you? I don't know, Mike shrugged, and he fell silent, thinking, every time I try to say something to these guys they get all weird on me. That's why I usually don't. And he told himself he wouldn't mention Ron or what he felt about the new guy ever again. But Joe was already remembering that episode, although he didn't want to. It had started when one day Ron casually announced the Devil was in the store. Joe thought it was some kind of joke and so he said, I wonder what he's doing here? Ron told him, he's checking us out, and so far he likes what he sees. We're all going to hell, he said.

Joe didn't think much of it at the time. Maybe the guy's a Christian, he thought, and that's okay. There are a lot of Christians in the world. Joe wasn't one, and never had been either, but you have to let people think whatever they want, no matter how silly it seems - the Devil! The Devil in a stationery store! He'd laughed it off and forgotten all about it until about a week and a half after that, when Ron had hidden in the basement stock room, and wouldn't come up no matter how often or how loud they called for him. They hadn't seen him leave the store, so Joe and Mike went down to take a look, and there he was, cowering behind a tower of cardboard boxes, scraping his fingernails against the hard stone wall, and muttering to himself in some odd foreign language. Hey Ron, Mike said, come on, didn't you hear us calling you? We need you on the floor.

I can't go up there, Ron whispered, he's up there. I can't let him see me. He wants to drag me down. They'd coaxed him and cajoled him, but it wasn't any use, and eventually they had to leave him there. That was a mistake, because he wouldn't leave the stock room all that night, and not the next day either. Mike and Joe and Gwen took turns going down and trying to talk with him, but Ron was only partly there. Whenever they could get him to talk at all in English he'd say something like, I can't go out, I have to stay here till he leaves, and they would say, there's no one up there, no one, really, take my word for it, the store is empty, there's only us here now, there's no one else, and Ron would shake his head and twist his shoulders in strange contorted way and say he's everywhere, he's here, I know he is, I feel his presence up there. And then he wouldn't talk again, in English anyway, for hours.

Eventually Mike decided they should call the cops and have him forcibly removed. It was getting too ridiculous. But Joe didn't want the cops to be involved. I'll handle it, he vowed, although he didn't know how to go about it. He went down to the basement and he watched him. He sat down on the steps and waited and just watched for quite a while. Ron was going through the same twisting motions, still crouched behind the boxes, still scraping his bloody fingers on the wall as if trying to dig a tunnel out of there. It's time to go, Joe softly said, and then Ron screamed, the most frightening, terrified scream Joe ever heard. That was when he knew that he had to resort to desperate measures.

I wonder what ever happened to him, Mike said, as he was getting ready to leave for work. To who? Joe asked, and Mike said, Ron. You know, I never saw him again, did you? Joe shook his head. I'm sure he's somewhere safe, he said, and Mike said, sure, I'll bet he is. Bobby had come down from getting dressed and was getting the car from the garage. Mike stood by the front door waiting for her to pull out. You coming along? he asked Joe, and Joe said, No, I'll be there later on. You know, Mike said, I didn't want to bring it up, I'm sorry. It's okay, Joe replied. But I thought, Mike said, it's just that I thought I should say what I thought. I mean about Jim. Okay, said Joe. And then as Mike was walking to the car Joe called out after him, don't worry, he said, he can do the job.

Mike didn't worry. He had no time. Once he'd gotten it said, he didn't think about it anymore. That's all I wanted to do, he thought, just so they knew what I was thinking and they couldn't tell me later that I didn't say a thing. When they got to the store, he went right to work with David checking in a new supply of marking pens and art supplies. It was easy to work with David, as easy as it had been with Gwen, and Mike appreciated that. He liked a smooth and pleasant camaraderie. It made the work seem less monotonous and made the day go by. It was funny that they didn't really talk about much, but for David working with Mike was more instructive and rewarding than anything else could be. What he learned from Mike was something he couldn't have gotten out of any book or any teacher anywhere.

It had been the best week in his life, and now he couldn't help but let Mike know about it. Up until then he'd been mostly quiet, just absorbing the attitude of his partner, and going along like a happy shabby dog, all bright eyes and keen devotion, all readiness and joy whenever noticed. You know, he said, I really feel better now, and Mike looked up and smiled and said, that's good. He hadn't known David was feeling bad before. You have the flu or something? he asked, and David said, oh no, that's not what I mean. I wasn't sick, not really. I was just a little shaky, he confided. Oh, Mike said, well, as long as you're feeling better that's okay He didn't know what David was really saying, and David didn't know how to explain it all to him.

He really wanted to. He felt that Mike would understand him better than anybody could. All week long he'd been telling himself, you can talk about it now, it's going to be all right, and he had convinced himself. Just yesterday he saw a drunk and didn't even flinch. And he could look out the hotel window any time he wanted to, and didn't feel afraid of what might be out there. He'd spent all his early mornings in the city park, feeding his guardian pigeons, and there had been no one to bother him. When he walked around the streets, he saw nothing that alarmed him. He even went out one night and had dinner in a little restaurant not too far away, and he hadn't done anything like that in months. And yet he knew that if he said these things it wouldn't seem like very much to Mike, who undoubtedly went out whenever he wanted to, walked anywhere with impunity, and didn't have to bother with looking around to see what might be there. David was aware that these events were meaningful only in the context of his past. But he wanted to let somebody know. he wanted to share his relief, his joy, his hope.

He couldn't find the words, and had to settle for repeating, yes, I feel a whole lot better now, and then he had to take Mike's smile for the understanding he was searching for. You know, he said, I really think, and then he stopped to take a breath, for this was hard to say, I really think, he said, that you are just about the finest person I have ever known. Mike stopped what he was doing and looked up, surprised. He didn't know what to make of that. He always thought that he was just an ordinary joe. No one had ever told him otherwise. Well, he thought, the kid is probably just lonely. He doesn't know many people. He only wants a friend. Mike chuckled and said, well, I don't know about that, but, thank you, that's a very nice thing to say. David said, I mean it. Mike said, let's get back to work.

Jim came in at four and from the moment he arrived the very air was different. Hello everybody, he announced, I'm here, and seizing David's hand he introduced himself, I'm Jim, you must be David. I didn't see you here on Monday. That's my day off, David said. So that explains it, Jim exclaimed, well, I am the part time person now. I guess we'll be working together a lot. I guess so, David said. Hi Mike, Jim boomed, and didn't notice Mike barely waved and didn't say a thing. Jim strode off into the back and greeted Joe and Bobby. Hello hello he said. Bobby grinned and said Hi, Jim, while Joe looked up and nodded hi. And how have you been? Jim asked, and Bobby said, oh, we've all been just fine, and you? Just great, he said, just great. And boy am I glad to be here to. I was getting a little crazy just sitting around at home, you know? I know how it is, Bobby agreed, you have to get out and do things. That's exactly right, Jim said, it's like I always say, life is for doing stuff, so get out there and do it, and he laughed and said, and as for that, I guess I'd better get out there myself and get to work. I'll see you later - bye!

Jim took over the register from David, who went down to the stock room to fetch some overstock. For the next two hours Jim held the floor, making the customers happy with his winning ways and thoroughly enjoying himself as well. When Mike and Bobby were getting ready to go, Jim loudly reassured them that there was nothing to worry about, that everything was in good hands, David and me'll see that everything goes perfectly, he said, and Bobby replied, I'm sure you will. Where's Joe? he asked, and Mike said, oh, he's going to work a little late tonight. He'll be back there in the office if you need him. Oh, I'm sure that won't be necessary, Jim replied. Nothing that David and me can't deal with, I'll bet. Okay, said Mike. Bye, Bobby called, and they were gone. Jim waited till they were out of right, then he left his post behind the register and went over to where David was busily arranging stacks of file cards. Well, Jim said, the cat's away.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Since we're going to be working together, Jim said, why don't we have a little chat. Get to know each other, that sort of thing. I have to finish this first, David said, and he didn't feel too comfortable around the man. For one thing, he was standing much too close, and he talked too loud. Oh come on, Jim said, we can do that later. Look, there's no one here. What's the hurry, anyway? I told Mike I would get it done, he said. David had no intention of letting Mike down in any way. He promised he would do the job, and he meant to do it right and finish it. Aw, we can do it later, Jim repeated, and I'll help you. We'll get it done faster together anyway. I told Mike I would do it, David said again, and Jim said, I wouldn't worry about Mike. He's a pushover, I can tell. No he's not, said David, defending his friend. He's a very good man. Oh sure sure, Jim said, I didn't mean he wasn't. I'm sure that he's the best guy in the whole wide world, but still, he is a pushover. He winked. Know what I mean?

No I don't , said David, but despite his resolution he found himself going back up to the front with Jim, as if he was being led on a string. He was no match for the force of Jim's personality. He told himself he should be doing the job, but there he was, listening to this monologue. Jim was saying, Oh yeah, they're nice enough people, but what an easy life they've got! No wonder they've gone soft! Stay in a place like this too long and you won't have a backbone left. No, it's not for me, he said, I won't be staying around. Then what am I doing here, you ask? I'll tell you. It's a change of pace. That's all. Just a little change of pace. Everybody needs one now and then. Otherwise you just get stuck. You get into a rut and you can't get out again.

I hate to see it when people do that to themselves, he said. It's better to be free. Like I am. free as a bird - he laughed - only I am freer than a bird because I have a natural habitat. The birds don't have much anymore. Everything's been stripped away, the trees, the grass, it's all turned into office space by now. Never seen a happy bird locked up in office space, have you? I'll bet you haven't. It's no good being cooped up, locked up, locked in. I know. I used to be in a rut. But that was long ago. You know what it's like in a rut? I'll bet you do. Yes, I can tell you know exactly what it's like. You probably even wanted to be in one, a guy like you. I would never let that happen. Can't stand to see it myself. It makes me want to do something. Shake things up. Get things moving again.

Jim paused to ring up a sale, and as soon as the customer was out the door he started up again. Look out there, he gestured to the window, tell me what you see. David looked, and he saw an old man stooping by the curb, picking up a piece of soggy paper. He saw a bus roar by, the traffic light, a secretary walking to the subway stop. Nothing, David said, I don't see anything. Then you're not looking very hard, Jim said. What about the signs? What signs? David said, and he thought, I don't see any signs. Everything's a sign, Jim said, you just gotta know how to read them. Take that old man there, picking up that rag. What do you think he wants that for? He's just an old man, David said. No, Jim shook his head, he's not just that. He's mad. I've seen him around a lot.

David looked again, but the man was gone, he'd vanished. Did I miss it? David asked himself. How could I have missed it? I know what they are like. How could I not tell. It couldn't be, he told himself, it was just a plain old man. But now he wasn't sure. If it was a crazy, then it might have been a sign, but if it wasn't then it couldn't be. And he didn't know what Jim was saying anyway. What kind of sign? he asked. Jim laughed. You can read a whole life in a face, a gesture, Jim replied, if you know how to look. I've seen that old man doing that same thing before, always bending down, picking up some old and dirty thing. He's looking for something out there, something he lost a long, long time ago. He probably doesn't even remember what it was. he wouldn't know it if he found it. And anyway, it isn't something you can find like that. That wouldn't be enough to set the pattern in motion. It was something else he lost, something entirely different, and there's no way he will ever find it by looking the way he does.

He doesn't mean the same thing, David thought, and he was relieved. When he says sign he means about the past, that's not the same at all. But David was getting a little nervous again, and wished that Mike were there. The store was not the same place anymore. He was somewhere else, he felt, although he knew he wasn't. Everything's okay, he told himself, it's just that he is new and I just don't know him yet. He seems all right, a little loud perhaps, a bit too talkative. But he's just nervous too. It's only his second day here. I was worse than that for longer. And he thought he understood how Gwen felt on his first night, and how strangers always seem a little strange at first - that's why they call them strangers, David thought, and he smiled to himself. Jim was still talking.

Did you see the woman going by? he asked, and David nodded yes. She was scared, Jim said, and David said he didn't think she was. Oh, she was scared all right, said Jim, and she is right to be. It's a crazy world out there. She doesn't like going to the subway after work. It's okay in the morning, but you know how this street can get. After six o'clock, when everybody has gone home, that's when the crazies all come out and roam around. He laughed. She knows that. She's been around. That's why she walks so fast and never looks around. She figures, what you don't see will never hurt you, and she's wrong - but it gets her by. She won't have any trouble tonight. I could have told her that. You have to read the signs. Tonight there's nothing bad out there, nothing bad for blocks around. How do you know that? David asked. It's easy, Jim replied, a summer night like this? Everybody's in the park.

He paused for a moment, and when he started to speak again it was in a quieter tone. Of course, he said, it's not the crazies that you really have to be afraid of. They're easy enough to spot. Once you see them, you're home free. You know exactly who and where they are. All you have to do is go around them. It's the others that you have to watch out for. What others? David asked. Jim smiled. The ones who don't seem crazy, he replied. It's the people on the edge, he said, they're the dangerous ones. You can't tell when you see them that they're on the edge, unless you have experience. They look like ordinary folks. Just anybody going about their business. Inside they're boiling over, but you can't tell. No, the crazy ones, the ones that you can tell, they've already crossed the line, gone falling over the edge. You don't have to worry about them at all. But... it could be anyone, you never know.

David couldn't speak. He was too busy trying to think of what Jim said. If he is right, he thought, than I've been doing the whole thing wrong. But if he's right, no, he couldn't be. It could never work like that. I couldn't go around and everyone I see... It would be changing everything. And he didn't want to look at Jim. He didn't want him to say another word. He wanted to tell him, just shut up and leave me alone. I have to go back to work, he thought, I have to do that job I promised Mike I would. I don't want to think about these things, not now. It's going too well to have to think about it now. That old man, David thought, he was just an old man, not a sign. Just an old man, maybe he thought he saw a dollar bill but it turned out he was wrong. Anybody would have stopped to pick it up. Bending over on the curb like that and picking something up, it doesn't mean you're crazy, not at all.

A man came in and was standing by the counter, waiting. Jim was standing there deliberately looking the other way. David works here too, he thought. I'll let him do this one. It took a moment for David to realize what he was supposed to do, and then he moved up an inch or two and said, can I help you? The man just looked at him a little strangely, then at Jim, then he turned and looked around the store. When he was facing the front again, he said, where's Gwen? Gwen? David said, oh, she doesn't work here anymore. What do you mean she doesn't work here anymore, the man said, she has to be here. She's supposed to be here. David shrugged. She quit about a week ago, he said. Why? Why did she quit? David shook his head. I don't really know, he said. The man was silent for a moment, and then he began to pace, back and forth in front of the counter, with his hands linked together behind his back. Who are you? he suddenly demanded. My name is David Melenik, he said, and this is... but before he could get the words out Jim had interrupted saying, I'm Richard Greenhouse, and who are you?

That's none of your business, the man replied. I just want to know where's Gwen. She's supposed to be here. Well, Jim said, as you can see, she's not. Where is she? Martin asked again, where are you hiding her? Hiding her? David asked, confused, but Jim took over calmly again, saying, we're not hiding her. She isn't here. I don't believe you, Martin said, she's always here, she's been here every Thursday night for three years, never missed a shift, so you can stop your lying and your false pretense. I know you've got her somewhere and I'm going to see her now! With that he turned and half ran to the back, Jim following. Martin pushed in the office door and yelled Aha! But there was no one there. By the time Jim made it to the office Martin was crawling beneath the desks, and Jim was surprised that Joe was not in there. I didn't see him leave, he thought, I wonder where he got to?

Martin came up swinging away at Jim, who blocked his punches and managed to grab his arms and hold him. He dragged him, kicking and fussing, back up to the front, and practically carried him out the door and pushed him to the sidewalk. Martin leaped up again, and looked like he was going to attack, but suddenly he changed his mind, and yelling, you tell her that she won't get away! he turned and ran off down the street. Jim watched after him and laughed. He was still laughing heartily when he came back inside the store. David was quaking by the register. If anything was a sign, he thought, and he was terrified. He backed away as Jim approached, but Jim kept coming on. He came around behind the counter and David was flat against the window pane. Jim took no notice of him.

It's him, David thought, he's the one. It's got to be him, I know it. Oh my God, how did I get into this. How was I so stupid! I knew I should have left. I should have never come in here. I should run away right now. I can still run, but he couldn't move. Jim's back was to him now, and David could only see his shoulders, and his back, his curly thick dark hair. It must be him, he thought. Didn't he just talk about the signs? Didn't he say it was the normal ones? The ones who look like normal? He was telling me all the time. Telling me it was him, and I didn't see the signs. He was right, I've been stupid all along. I should have known right off. I should have known. God get me out of here, he thought, just get me out of here, I'll never be so dumb again, now that I know, now that it's come to this. Jim turned around and faced him. He was smiling.

It's a funny thing, Jim said. What's so funny, David thought, and then, but I don't want to know. Jim said, it reminds me of a man I used to know. You never knew if he was there or not. Sometimes he'd just slip away so quietly and you didn't know for hours he was gone. He never talked much anyway. And sometimes he'd be there and yet you wouldn't know he was. Jim shook his head. He was almost whispering now. He was right there on the edge, on the edge for years. He never slipped. You couldn't tell. I used to look at him and think, this guy is very weird, but then I'd look again and think that no, he's not weird after all. It must be me, I thought. I couldn't read his signs. It isn't just a random happening, you know. There's a pattern in everything. But you probably know that. You're probably way ahead of me on this. He paused again, and David still couldn't move. What's he going to do? he thought, what does he want from me?

He could be anywhere, Jim said, at any time. You never know. He looked over at David and thought, poor kid. It's really not his fault. He never had a chance. Then he stood up and walked back to the office once again. David watched him move. He watched him peek inside the door and look around. He watched him slowly turn around and close the door behind him.

EPILOGUE

They found the body first thing Friday morning. He'd been strangled to death with fishing wire. Mike called the cops and they came and looked around and asked a lot of questions - where were you, what do you know, what can you tell us about the boy. Joe and Mike and Bobby answered all the questions patiently, and closed the store up so the cops could do their thing. They chalked out where the body was found, behind the counter, on the floor. They marked out footprints, dusted fingerprints, and waited while the doctor pronounced the approximate time of death. After awhile they went away, and the store was opened for business once again. It was a terrible thing, Bobby declared, and Joe agreed. Mike was the one who was most upset. He couldn't do any work at all that day.

The following day was Saturday, and Joe came in to cover David's shift. Me and Jim can handle it, he said. He got there earlier than usual, and sat around the front, waiting for nine o'clock to come. When it did, he opened up, and waited for the customers and Jim. He didn't like being up there, but someone had to do it. At least there weren't too many customers, and those there were knew what they wanted anyway, and didn't ask him questions. He could handle that okay. All he had to do was make a new Help Wanted sign. The old one couldn't take it anymore. Nine thirty came around, and then nine forty five, nine fifty five, and ten o'clock, and still there was no sign of Jim. Finally Joe picked up the phone and called up Mike. You'd better come in, he said, I don't think Jim is going to make it in today. I had a feeling he wouldn't, Mike said, and Joe said, come on Mike, just because you didn't like the guy. Anyway, I'm sure he has a good excuse. But if he did, they never found out what it was. They never saw that man again. It was like he had completely disappeared