Eyes and Knives

    It's just like them to make me out to be this way. You watch people fool themselves day in and day out, then moments later, they lay claim to a wonderful arrogance. It's funny. Common moments.

    The woman just would not stop. I wanted to keep laughing at her, but I knew that I couldn't. It wasn't funny anymore. A cigarette was going to be consumed after this, but right now I was in need of some serious damage control. Her mouth had momentum and I was losing ground. "Unsatisfied ma'am?"

    "Why yes, in fact I am."

    "What can we do to fix this?" I want to hit her.

    "You can do your job and order the title I've been asking for weeks!" Her mouth crinkled up following her nose.

    "Ma'am, I'm so sorry The Bathroom Cookbook isn't available but as I mentioned before, I've never spoken to you. I've never seen you here, so whoever you spoke to made the mistake but it wasn't m-------"

    "Oh, we've met...oh, you people can never do anything right! Just...just get your manager!" And now her voice is loud enough for the people on the other side of the mall. She shook with great effort.

    "Ma'am...the order has been placed...it's taken care of...for real. The book will be here in two to three business da-----"

    "Hey a*****e! Get   Your    Manager    Now!" Her purse made an evil slap on my counter, and that's when the wires crossed.

    I grabbed her purse and threw it in her face. She fell. That was not intended. What can be done was done, and the only thing left to do was laugh. She flailed around for a while and used every insult known to man in no specific order. They were all directed at me. She looked ridiculous but not as bad as I did. I flailed too only I was better at it. Convulsions of laughter brought me to my knees, back up and all the way to the ground. An uncontrollable cackle. This happened several times.

    Long story short I was escorted out by security.

    I've heard stories of people losing it at work and many say they don't know why. I know why I did and now I'll rewind.

 //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

    On a Sunday-the day God rested-Jerry and I were working the closing. You can tell God rested because they frolic through the city leaving messes in their wake -- all of his mistakes, short comings and half-assed work. Contorted and confused people sense each other and congregate like scavengers at an hour old kill. They know what's wrong with them. They are fully conscious of how much they regret their own existence. Jerry and I stayed motionless behind the counter hiding bright, red eyes. Our current discussion involved telepathy, whistling, the Amish and tight pajama pants with an a*s as perfect as any I'd ever seen underneath. I needed to take a run of new books out to the shelves, and on my way back, I thought of a mutilation.

    Sympathy and the Devil go hand in hand. A stranger taught me that.

    She came in to find a book. She didn't have a preference. She was holding a knife and a very large bible. I think I was the only one who noticed this. Strange for how easy she was to notice. Nauseously beautiful; here I was, just pitiful enough to be crippled by the sight I saw. Petite, confident and aware. Blue jeans with holes and flannel everywhere between the treads of long, dark hair resting on her shoulders. The eyes. Eyes as sleek and sharp as the knife at her side.

    I walked toward her and she came directly at me. I kept playing the slow-motion scene of her stabbing me over and over again in those seconds, but I kept my inertia. She didn't stab me.

    "I need a book." Her smile widened the longer I took to respond.

    "What's wrong with that one?" I pointed at her bible. I thought I was being clever. She didn't laugh but she did say...

    "Oh, but didn't you hear? This is fiction." That little gem was a winner for me.

    I finally asked her which book she was looking for. Pausing and looking over her shoulder, she considered her options. She looked at me again and said, "I want to read your favorite book. take me to that one." That one took me a bit.

    "...Huh. Alright. I have a lot of favorites but...I think what you need is poetry. I'll think of a good one on the way. Follow me." I tried to stay professional. It's usually a good thing to do when you're helping a pretty customer because nine times out of ten they want nothing to do with you. They only want their rightfully entitled service. That didn't help my heart rate, of course, and she was the one asking for my favorite book as a suggestion. On the way to the poetry section, she asked my name from behind me. I told her, and she giggled and took my hand in hers for a brief second. I could barely catch my breath. I decided on a collection of Rilke, took it off the self and handed it to her with a retarded grin. She took it and handed me her knife and her bible. Blood was smeared on it. It was fresh. Still drying. Got it on my hand. I'll think about it later. I held the two objects like a child with sweet anticipation of her reaction to whatever page she opened and read. I watched her eyes move quickly across the page -- from right to left? She finished, slammed the book shut and sighed with her eyes closed and her head leaning back. She stayed that way for a while then slowly came back to life.

    "Beautiful. I've read it...but it was exactly what I needed. One of my favorites too." Wow.

    "Really? Well, we could find you another."

    "No. No need that was perfect. Now give me my knife back." She poked me in the chest as she said this and giggled more. She was teasing me. I gave it back. Her voice was as powerful as the knife was becoming.

    I was beginning to look for a way out. Not because I wanted to, but because I felt like someone was playing a bad joke on me. A gorgeous creature brings this strange situation only to me, and I have no way to deal with it. It was too f*****g random. I was confused but not unhappy about it.

    I handed the bible back to her and reached for her new book. She took the bible but recoiled with the book.

    "Oh no, no, no. This is mine now. I won't have it for long but right now, it's mine." The sinister looks never left. They were only accentuated by an angelic face.

    We took a stroll through a few aisles and discussed trivial things. She made everything seem more interesting and worth while. Even bullshit. We came around a corner and without looking down, she dropped her bible on the floor in mid-sentence. Her pace never slowed. I guess she'd had her fill of that story.

    "This may sound weird but I've got to ask...where did you come from? I've never seen you here before and you just seem...out of place. Not in any bad way...I just feel like I might know you from somewhere." Those eyes never left mine and I started to burn.

    Before she could answer the front of the store produced so much noise it startled both of us.

    A woman's voice took over the quiet building with screams of help and terror. She wailed about a body around the corner. The body was dead and its blood painted up the outside brick wall. People were on phones to 911. The woman fainted and shut up. Not as quiet as before but better.

    "That would be my queue to leave." She hugged me.

    "What...why?" I could hear the desperation in my own voice. It made me sad. I wanted nothing more than to be a part of her. I wanted to know everything about her and forget about my aggressive mediocrity.

    "I made a mistake but I had good intentions." She studied me. I studied her.

    "Hold on..." Ahh, the light bulb just flickered.

    "He claimed to be God. He lied. He refused to admit it. I had to show him he was wrong."

    Now the confusion met with the connections. Words were hard to form but I finally asked why she had chosen me.

    "Honey, I didn't want to get you into any trouble. I only came to you because you can't be empty on the inside. You are not one of them. I wanted one more truth before I left. I wanted to see an emotion not fabricated, and I knew you could show me that. I couldn't leave without proving myself wrong about us only being wires inside. Soon enough you will understand."

    "Where are you going?"

    "Somewhere you cannot. But I'll be seeing you. Thank you Ryan." She turned and moved away.

    By the time I saw the end, I forgot the beginning. It happened so fast I wasn't sure if it even did happen. Someone yelled at someone else about the girl holding the bloody knife. She stopped, dropped to her knees and planted the knife deep within her body. People ran toward her. I wasn't one of them. She covered the place in red and turned her head around to torture me one last time. It worked. I was frozen by disbelief. She was right about me not able to follow her. Her eyes went dull but never went dead, and I never wanted to open mine again.

    She saved me I think. In one way or another she set me free. She opened me up and killed everything inorganic inside. She purified my body and mind. I had one thing in common with the body outside. The book remained by her feet along with her occurrence, and they both became mine. Now I have two copies of Rilke. One with torn seams and one unread, all stained with blood. I keep it right on top of her bible.

    There was no need for me to ponder why she did it. I got it. I found out later that the f**k she slaughtered deserved every bit of what became of him. I have no reason for any detail. Her excuse for coming to me will always resonate through the chambers of the other mind taking over mine. I fell apart and came back together in such a fashion...I've lost all words. They'll return. I'm not worried anymore.

    Hours passed. Days. I took some time off work, then I went back. Work went back to normal. I didn't. The excessive bullshit from an angry customer was just enough to make me okay with that.

    Something is waking.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

    So now we're back at the beginning. It's just like them to make me out to be this way. I've lost my job, my mind and a stranger who held more of a connection with me than anyone I've known longer than twelve minutes. I remember her. I remember more than what happened. I remember things that I never knew happened. She woke me up. I know better of who I am. I am renewed.

    I don't have a car so I call a cab service after my escort out. I've come to terms. I know what needs to be done. I know where I need to go. An exceptional experience will show any being with the potential for enlightenment a clarity they never knew existed. Despite the changes, all the tribulations fade with time and effort. Things are exactly the way they need to be. The cab came and helped me fade away.

    ...I never got her name. And it's Sunday again. Can I rest now?

 

Reviews

[Kathryn]

This is the most fantastic thing I've read in a while. This is phenomenal. I don't even know where to begin.
I don't know what inspired this, but Honey, you've got one hell of a muse. This is raw, powerful, deep, moving, and so creative I want to weep. Basically, give yourself the highest praise possible. Pat yourself on the back and go write a novel already. Goodness, Leap, you have really knocked me down. This is one of those pieces that will keep me reeling for a week. Fabulous.

The Dialogue is my favorite part (aside from the description of the knife and girl...well and, if we're being honest, everything else, but I had to pick it out) because it really lets the reader come inside in the most intimate and powerful way.

Thoughts: When I read "She did not stab me," my first thought was "Yes, she did. Whether or not it was with the knife. She stabbed you real good with her eyes and her spirit. She left a wound that will not likely heal."
Favorite line: "Somewhere you cannot." Ugh, so good!!!!


Okay, now comes the Grammar Nazi...Fixes:
"[Ma'am] I'm so sorry the title you're looking for isn't [available]
[Convulsions] of laughter brought me to my knees
how much they regret their own [existence]
[Nauseously] beautiful and I was just pitiful enough
This may sound [weird] but
A [woman's] voice took over the quiet
her and forget about my [aggressive] mediocrity
"Unsatisfied [ma'am]?"
I couldn't leave without [proving] myself wrong
Her [excuse] for coming to me will always
came back together in such a [fashion]

P.S. If you haven't already, you should read Rilke's "Letters to a Young Poet".

[Kathryn]

Oh, found another typo. Sorry I missed it. I'm usually a much better copy editor (just something to keep in mind for when you go to write that novel of yours and are looking for someone... ;) ).

...stories of people [losing] it at work...

[Pen Draggin']

So so so very good! The beginning reminded me so much of our actual work place that it made my heart ache a little. I really enjoyed the turn it took, totally kept my attention the whole time. I love the girl with the knife, she seems like she would be my best friend. There are a few errors (which happen with every piece of writing) but it doesn't hinder the story at all.