I look fixed ahead as I push thru the break room doors my eyes bleary and exhausted. The clean plastic name tag reading Felicia got a brand new tiny 6-year gold attendance plaque. I think I always came into work because I really didn't have any where else to go during the day. I didn't really have any other plans, every dream I ever had was a sea of endless black until sunrise now. I was not really one of those 'plan ahead' people. When you really don't have anyone in your life, you don't plan for the future. Not anymore.
I opened up my work locker for the first time in months. I hate to have to memorize an arbitrary set of numbers to access a one foot by one foot locker recessed into the wall of the loud retro lunch room not renovated since the 1970's. The whole thing, I think, was sourced from a school that got shut down if it hadn't been for the random scorch marks and cigarette burns of butts crushed out on the garishly sun burn orange surface. I remembered the numbers. So I'm ready to commit to myself and to the notion that this world really won't have anything for me. I was an extra piece that was waiting to get crushed like the cigarettes but in the cogs of the machine of life.
Suicide idealization came and went thru my 24 years of life, but this time I know I am definitely ready to stop delaying the inevitable and just get it all over with. I never fit in at school: too Black to be Greek too Greek to be Black. I felt that I was not enough of what people wanted me to be. Too tall, too skinny, and too fat in all the wrong places. Everyone is dealt a hand full of cards when they're born but I feel like the only person with cards that have been misprinted since day 1.
I have only ever had one friend; her name is Penelope Maytime. She went to the same Greek Orthodox grade school in Chicago and is bound to some day be one of those main characters in a lifetime feel good movie. Her hair has the perfect amount of auburn curl, shes the pleasant side of plus size. She is loved by everyone. I want to be jealous of her and her happiness but it looks like it's too much work to be that happy. It just gives me a headache looking at it. She deserves at least a note before I go.
I sit in the break room staring down at the Jewel-Osco ledger paper that you get as management staff. I'm sure that some big-head thought was a great asset to the company and that's why we have had the same warm red terracotta stationary bought in bulk. It filled a closet in the back room and never seemed to go away since I started working here after high school.
The clock ticks and I can't think of any words to say, anything to write. There is no excuse I can give or artful words I can string together that can explain this mental exhaustion of being stuck in middle store management as a shift lead. I hastily write 'Sorry, I'm just tired.' and fold up the letter stuffing it into my coat as she comes into the room a whirlwind of smiles in an autumn sweater.
“Fellllecia...” she shouted after closing the break room door behind her a snippet of fern and baby's breath clung to her hair making her look like some kind of wood nymph and not a disheveled florist. “Hadrian asked me out.” she said all in a flutter as she didn't bother to look down at the combination lock to pull out her winter coat and put back her apron.
“Hadrian.... “ My mind went blank as I thought back to all of the names and faces you see in a day shipping incoming, outgoing money drops, brinks, security guards, police officers, and the weird lady that lugs about a pram full of lizards. “The credit union courier?” I squinted looking at her wondering if that was really the best of decisions.
Hadrian was one of those motorcyclists that you see shooting thru lower wacker between cars to do a circuit between credit unions on his motorcycle. I'm surprised he hasn't lost his head or got into a traffic incident on the way but like clockwork at open, and again at five pm he is there waiting with the courier bag transfers waiting at the back door. Like clockwork.
“Did he ask you with the helmet on or the helmet off? I don't think that guy owns a face. I just think it's all helmet and a giant void between.” I said flippantly pushing the note into Penelope's locker before putting the double ended electrical cord and the clinical strength cough syrup that got pulled from the shelf six months ago in my bag.
“Oh my god. Your so funny. “ She said rolling her eyes as she took out her phone scrolling thru his Titter profile. “See he's got a face and oh no. Is that eyes and hair?” She scrolled thru a chain of pictures that depicted Hadrian like a motorcycle riding Brawny paper towel man with gelled hair, a scarred crook nose, and meaningful stubble on purpose.
“Yes PP. I see that you are going to go on a date with a man of much chin, and questionable driving skills.” I grinned narrowly as she gave me a soft punch in the shoulder of my wool coat with a pink kitten mitten.
“Staaahp... You are the absolute worst. You haven't even seen his dog. It is the cutest Dalmatian that you ever saw and he's so smart. Your just judgey that he comes from Joliet. And you think motorcycles are dangerous.” She pushed on as I started to snap all of the lights for the store off from the back room circuit panel, having done balancing out about a half hour ago. Somewhere in the back of my mind a picture of the darkness that was overtaking the sales floor seemed to contain a symmetry to it. Balanced the books, balance the room. Silently and somehow proper all things coming into their place in the end...
“Hey your taking my words and mucking around with them. I said 'Nothing good comes from south of Crest Hill.' That was to stop you from bringing home those wild parrots when the bus broke down on the school trip. Live birds. Wild live birds in a moving contained vehicle is never a recipe for a good time.” I shook my head rounding the dimly lit shipping and receiving backroom and forklift I promised I was going to get tuned up but never really did. It's going to be the next managers problem.
“They are all just little babies that have been abandoned in a big nasty world and you just don't see it the way that I do. They need you know, help just like anyone else?” Those words stung. We got to the end of the store between darkened frozen food cases.
The security officer working here I think is he same guy that has been working here since I was a kid. He hasn't ever changed. Too much muscle on a five food six frame but the neatest set of dreadlocks I had ever seen. I don't know where he got his hair done but it showed that it was something that he had spent time on. He felt a bit off this time.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“Hey Heracles. What's got you in your head today?” I asked as I started to lock up pulling my key off of my lanyard palming it into Penelope's bag without her notice.
“All of dis.” he said gesturing out to the vacant parking-lot, his weathered Camero next to the bus stop shelter. “Man you work and work and you feel yourself spread out too much. Urban sprawl, street crime, inflation. The strife of man is nothing but madness. But man, if it's not every day a new fresh amount of not enough of you and too much of the day and when you get to the end of yo day you ain't got nothing left but your bones.” it felt like a good start.
“This … so much this.” I nodded. “I get that shit the bit that I get twisted over is the no one asked to be here B.S. Then you got to pay to live. You can't just 'be'. 'Specially not in this city. It just keeps on running and does not care what it crushes underfoot.”
He lit up a dark cigar as he swaggered with us to the bus stop. Autumn's grasp was winter in disguise here in the city. You blink and you miss fall. At the very least it was not Michigan. God hates Michigan.
“You two are depressing.” Penelope interjected. “The cold snap comes and both of you are too doom and gloom. We haven't even hit Halloween yet. We are in the heart of a living breathing city. The highways and by-ways are the arteries pumping churning. It's ever changing every day a new light goes on and we have the privilege to live in such a melting pot of beauty. There's public art, innovation, the lake and everything you could ever want. The holidays are coming. It's going to be great to bundle up in big coats and just be in the beautiful winterscape of the city. I mean don't you and your family have traditions?” she stopped looking to my glare and Heracles crossing his arms.
“My dad died in the eighties and you and I the only people at Felicia's parents funeral?” The air got tense around us. It was going to be a long ten more minutes. We sat together at the bus stop as a shambling mound slid it's way across the side walk.
“Oh god. It's The Rat King.” I pulled my bag closer crossing the arms of my wool coat staring straight ahead at a particular weed valiantly growing out of a crack in the sidewalk.
“Ladies and Heroes of Jewel-Osco, it's I The Rat King.” He smiled his broad off-kilter smile. He was wearing a Burger King crown with 'Fuck Off' drawn in sharp angular hand writing. Wearing a large thread-worn overcoat pulling tight at the seams. His soft body bare chested, draw string short pants pulled up to his calf's bandaged legs and flip flops to round out his ensemble. He didn't so much wear the coat as he draped it over his shoulders. His hair was always dusty and an unusual shade of white gray that never seemed natural. Nothing about him seemed natural.
“My Lord how does your evening stroll suit your Lordship on this evening fifteenth of the month of Octavious?” A cutting masculine voice boomed to no one in particular, like heralding the arrival of a long awaited movie star. I stared squint eyed at Heracles. He made the longest sweeping bow possible bending himself in half in front of His Majesty, as he meandered/shuffled his way past him.
“Oh Heracles you and I are of equal station. I do not accept your empty platitudes.” he waved a bandaged hand over the head of the security officer as I was left shaking my head. Penelope was also star struck by the most notorious homeless man of the south east side. As he swaggered by, a notably bruised apple in hand.
“Rat King, how have you been? I haven't seen you in ages!” Penelope rushed up to give him a hug. I shook my head wondering what bet she could halve possibly lost. Her eyes had glazed over with the unusual madness that usually followed The Rat King as he made his way across the 312.
Rat King brushed her off as he took out a greasy happy meal bag to smear mustard over where Penelope had hugged him. “Poor plant monger. I don't know why I let you touch the heavenly body. Peasant,” He spat. “No I did not come for your idolization. I have come for our dearest Felicia.”
He pulled out a fist full of half bent cat tails he had pulled from a lagoon that were puffy and close to going to seed, “My dearest Felicia, wouldst thou be my escort to The Up-side-down Halloween Festival? The sumptuous graces of the season are soon to be upon us and I would like to discuss plans of the future on the river.” He said making a long flowing bow holding out the apple in one hand and kissing the back of his wrist with a wink. “I bring you the finest flora of the glittering city.”
My skin crawled. I looked over my shoulder to Heracles to do his job and get this crazy homeless man away from me. He stared gobbed eyes like an idiot in the head lights. Penelope was zero hope either completely enraptured with the hand full of scummy, dripping pond weeds.
“Not until cows fly and the Picasso at Daily Plaza runs for mayor.” I say coldly snatching my hand back from him minutes away from feeling the twitch of his 'rat whiskers' on the back of my hand. I could see their beady, pin point eyes looking out of his pockets. The unnerving thing is that they were actually wearing clothes.
“I see catapults and coups. You drive a hard bargain but I assure you the fruit is worth the taste you frigged tyrant. Tomorrow then?” He sauntered off eating the the apple in hand. “Goddamned pigeons! Your gods have abandoned you! Repent the face of the Glory of the RAT!” he shouted running after some innocent spooked birds running up the exit rap of the Skyway bridge out of sight.
“I don't know how the hell he does not get hit by a truck. What the hell is wrong with you two? Both of you just stared on like he was the second coming of Tupac!” I shouted as they both started to blink blurry eyed slowly coming back around to reality. “Heracles aren't you supposed to keep the wierd-os form harassing us. I'm pretty sure he's homeless and lives under a toll bridge.”
“Nah, I have been to his house that man lives in a castle on the lake front on Du Sable. He's loaded got the water front all tied up in his back pocket. How do you think he can afford such rich clothes. Fully loaded. “ she said with a knowing nod.
I could only smooth the wrinkle starting to form on my forehead thinking of the insanity that I had just witnessed. “Rats. The man has pockets full of rats. Not pet rats, not lab rats, but full on Chicago sewer kitten RATS.”
Penelope stroked the side of the cat tail, “I wonder what kind of boat he has on the river?” she trailed absentmindedly as the 30 line bus to Homeford stopped and opened its doors.