It didn’t make sense, the way he was standing there. Just on the other side of the automatic doors, like some kind of cardboard cutout. Standing there waiting, that fuckin’ smile, toothy and wide and unexplainably unrealistic. Eyes an extreme contrast of black and white, looking at me through the glass–
“Uh, helloooo?” The guy at the register snapped, startling me.
“Gosh, I’m sorry. What did you want again? The menthol?” I said, embarrassed. I had been on my way to grab his vape pods when I noticed the guy (thing?) outside. The man sighed exasperatedly, leaning against the counter like I had ruined his night. He was tall and lanky, wearing a tuxedo that seemed to shrink whenever he moved. Dressed like some sort of gentleman, but moved like Jack Skellington.
“No. Virginia tobacco.” He said impatiently.
“So sorry.” I grabbed the pods from the shelf and scanned them, unable to help myself from side-eyeing the automatic doors. He was still there.
“Nineteen, twenty-six. Would you like a bag?” I asked, and he shook his head while reaching for his wallet.
“H-hey, do you see that out there? That guy?” I whispered, nodding at the automatic doors.
He inserted his card and raised his eyebrows.
“What?” He said, annoyed.
“Outside. The guy, standing there.” I motioned to the entrance, at the guy who was very much still there, very much looking like a photoshopped disaster. His eyes were just as menacing as his broad smile, and he was still staring–
“Look lady, I’m in a hurry. Places to be. Receipt?” He asked, holding his hand out. He looked at the automatic doors briefly, then back at me.
“Right. Sorry, it's my first night.” I printed the receipt and handed it to him, and he stuffed it into the pocket of his slacks.
“There’s nothing out there.” was all he said, and walked away.
I leaned over the counter, watching the tall gentleman leave. The automatic doors opened with a hiss, giving a plain view to the man lurking outside. I could see him clearer now, a paper copy stuck in time and space. The gentleman paid him no mind, walking past him like there was nothing there. He didn’t see his intense eyes, didn’t notice his exaggerated grin. The teeth were long and rectangular, the corners pointed impossibly like a PowerPuff Girl’s smile. He didn’t move, didn’t blink. Kept lurking even as the headlights on the gentleman’s car passed over him as he drove off into the night. Just standing there. Watching me at the register.
I looked away, pretending he wasn’t there. I scanned the aisles, looking for someone else, someone who could assure me I wasn’t crazy. I could see two, and I found comfort in the fact I wasn’t alone. In the liquor aisle, a bearded man with a ponytail and sunglasses was browsing the whiskey. Two aisles down was my manager, Katherine, who was straightening things up before she left for the night. I tried to motion for her to come over, but she wasn’t paying attention.
Outside, the cartoon man watched, unmoving.
I looked at the monitor on the counter that displayed the live camera feeds. One view pointed at me, standing behind the counter. Another was at the pharmacy, which was currently closed. The view showed the counter and the dark delivery window. The third view was the liquor aisle, where the bearded man had made his selection. Lastly was the front entrance, where the cartoon man stood. Although on the screen, his toothy face was turned toward the camera.
I looked outside to see he hadn’t moved at all, he was somehow watching both at once.
“What’s the word,” Said the bearded man, putting a bottle of Woodford Reserve on the counter. He ran a hand over his ponytail and pointed at my nametag, “Cool name, like the Disney movie. With the lions.”
“Heh, thanks,” I said, but I wasn’t looking at him anymore, my gaze unintentionally pulled to the entrance of the store, “Hey, do you see him out there? The guy. Outside.”
I scanned the whiskey and put it in a bag, while the bearded man lowered his sunglasses, his slightly glazed eyes looking outside.
“I see him.” He said, and I felt a rush of relief.
“Oh, great, it’s not just me–”
“He’s coming in. Oh god, he’s got a knife!” He said, and I leaned over to look, gripping the counter.
The cartoon man hadn’t moved, his blown-up eyes still glued to me.
“Sorry, couldn’t resist,” He chuckled, putting his shades back on “seriously though, there’s nothing out there. Sorry kid. Are you alright?” He asked.
I rubbed my eyes, a desperate attempt to make him disappear. But the strange cartoon man remained, still watching me through the glass.
“I’m fine. Must be my imagination, I guess.” I sighed.
The man paid for his booze and left, approaching the cartoon stalker as he left. I watched him go, and he made a point to look around outside before shrugging and leaving.
I tried not to look. As the seconds crawled I could feel him outside, lingering there like an antagonist from a 1930’s cartoon. Silently watching, begging for my attention. Every customer that came in walked right past him, some of them even through him. In the end I couldn’t help it, and my eyes would wander discreetly to the monitor where he would be waiting.
“Alright kid, I’m finished up. You cool with holding the fort?” Katherine said, startling me for the second time.
“Y-yeah. Hey, you ever have any issues here at night?” I asked awkwardly. To my surprise, she looked nervous.
“Whatever do you mean?” She said, and I could tell she was sweating.
“Do you see him? Out there?” I asked, pointing discreetly.
Katherine didn’t look. Or blink.
“I don’t see anything out there dear.” She kept her eyes on me, and readjusted her purse on her shoulder.
I looked outside, and at the monitor. He was still there.
“Look, if this is some kind of joke–” I started, but Katherine interjected.
“The first night’s always rough. It’s weird, working the night shift. But you’ll be fine. It gets easier. Just make sure you’re ID’ing for alcohol and tobacco sales. And try to keep the area clean.” Katherine leaned over the counter and inspected my area, her eyes browsing over everything. Everything but the monitor. Once done, she started walking away.
“Everything should be just fine, dear. As long as you’re not the only one in the store. Have a goodnight.” She said, making her way to the door. When they automatically opened, she immediately turned right onto the sidewalk, scrunched up like she was warding off a winter wind. The cartoon man’s eyes followed her briefly, before snapping back to me.
I started to sweat. The feeling of being stared at made me uncomfortable. I looked for the other customers, each doing a late night run for something specific. Even though it was after ten, it was still pretty busy. I tried to pay him no mind and focus on work, restocking cigarettes and straightening candy bars in between transactions. I spent more time looking at the people walking in so I knew I wasn’t alone at least. Each time I started ignoring him, I thought of the smile, and those eyes. When I looked back he would be there. Just when I thought I’d get used to it, I couldn’t help but ask the next customer if they saw him.
A tired Mother with the stroller thought I was joking.
A muscular man buying protein powder just shrugged.
The teenager buying condoms didn’t even look.
The man in the Hawaiian shirt asked if I was high.
The man buying manga books was high.
Not a single person could see the cartoon man. I started to think I was crazy, but after a while I started to get used to it. Eventually I stopped looking all together.
By the time a mustached man came in to buy Guinness, I had stopped asking people if they could see it. I handed him back his change and told him to have a good night. Once I turned to see the next customer, I realized he was the last. From the counter I looked down the aisles, and saw nothing but empty tile and shelves. With nothing else to look at, I found myself looking outside.
The cartoon man was gone.
A moment later, I heard a crash from the back of the store.
I checked the monitor, to see the delivery window busted, the distorted cartoon man rapidly moving out of frame. I could hear his footsteps, running down the aisles fast and growing louder as they approached. I whipped around to look, just in time to see him duck behind a row out of sight.
He had gotten inside. I could hear him back there, pacing back and forth.
The automatic doors opened, and a couple walked in holding hands.
The footsteps stopped.
I don’t know what they’re looking for, but I hope it takes them a while to find it.
