The man was slouched on a stool, hunched over the tech bench, and staring at the overwhelmed PaperClips employees with dead eyes. A long, billowy, gray t-shirt filled with holes and stains hung over his boney frame. He wore cargo shorts, which only highlighted his equally thin, chicken-like legs. Tim could see that the man had flip-flops on, under a pair of grimy, wet, bare feet. He seemed like he came from the rain, drenched in the same scum from the pond. His skin was white, almost transparent, which directed all attention towards his hair—a dark, curly bush. It shifted as he shook his head with frustration, appearing to be locked in a heated argument with the Adonises.
Tim the Printer Guy approached the group, concerned and confused. Mikeal stood back with a furrowed, scornful brow. His contempt for the customer was resonating from his posture—upright, unyielding, and with arms crossed. Cage was standing alongside Mikeal, matching the anger, but also in a state of confusion. This particular customer’s persistence was all too bewildering, as the Adonises were not attempting to hide their disdain towards him. At the forefront of all this was Octavian, staring daggers at the customer while repeating himself, more and more sternly, exhausted with the lack of comprehension.
“Listen, we told you that there is no way we can help you,” said Octavian. “I don’t know how I can be any more clear or direct, but we don’t offer on-site help, and even though we sell basic security cameras in the store, we do not offer set up. You were in here earlier today and I already explained it to you. I also know that my associates here have explained this to you on other days that you have been here. I am the manager, so this will be the final time.”
The man just sat there in a daze. His mouth hung open and his eyes, still lifeless, stared back at the riled-up Octavian. He then looked down at a box that he brought; an outdoor camera system containing three small security cameras.
“I need you to help me set this up,” the man said, slack-jawed, and not affected by Octavian’s threats.
“Look!” Mikeal exclaimed, stepping forward. “It has been well over two weeks since you bought those cameras, so we cannot even return them. None of us have any training on installing the cameras anyway, we just sell the thing!”
Cage then jumped into the conversation. “Sir, you have been here multiple times and we have told you each time that we can’t.”
“Do you want us to call the cops? Because I have seen those pictures on your phone!” Mikeal shouted.
Octavian had to hold his two associates back. “I am sorry, but he does bring up a good point. We have already made things clear, and we may have to inform the police to escort you off the premises.”
“Police?” the man asked., “But I need my cameras set up.”
It was almost as if he was toying with them. His lifeless stare gave the impression that he was this dumb, monotonous creature, yet the Adonises could not fathom a stupidity like his. They were all astonished by his statement. Mikeal’s eyes bulged out of his head, Cage nervously rubbed his face, and Octavian’s mouth hung open—everyone was at a loss for words. Even Tim the Printer Guy was amazed as he watched the whole ordeal culminate in agonizing tension. He had to step in.
“Anything I can help with?” Tim the Printer Guy said, quickly squeezing himself in between the three PaperClips employees. “I know I am just a humble printer guy, but I think I can help sort something out.”
Octavian was bewildered, as was Mikeal and Cage. Tim’s presence brought nothing but uncertainty, which aggravated the group more. Mikeal’s mouth tensed up, and pinched shut. He looked over at Cage, who still had his hands over his face, but now revealing wide eyes, observing a frightening storm developing. Octavian tried his best to nudge Tim out of the situation.
“Tim you do not have to—” he said.
“Nonsense! Why don’t you guys go deal with other things around the store, and let me deal with this,” said Tim the Printer Guy, smiling at the group and wanting them to see his worth.
Mikeal seemed like he was calming down a bit; his face began to unfurl and release. Both his and Cage’s expressions changed from an intense glare to a wide-eyed curiosity. They moved away, but still stayed with the commotion. Octavian though, was in the midst of a new challenge which sent him further into despairing anxiety.
“Tim, this is something that we have to deal with, you do not have to help,” he said.
“Well, I have been around to many stores, so I might have a good way to resolve this,” said Tim, in an attempt to soothe the Adonis. He touched Octavian on the shoulder and gently moved him out of the way.
Octavian, being the acting manager, did not want to let a printer rep take over a task that he really had no control over. If his boss found out, then he could be reprimanded for allowing an outside person to represent the company. However, the exhaustion over dealing with this particular customer was so great that Octavian wanted nothing more than to just throw the issues onto someone else. Perhaps Tim would have a way of knocking some sense into him, or if Tim knew anything about cameras, he could address the questions and concerns that he had.
“Okay fine,” said Octavian. ”Just talk to him and see if you can fix this. If not, I might have to call Christian to see if we have to remove him from the premises.”
“Do not worry, I got this,” Tim whispered with a wide grin.
Octavian led the other two Adonises away while their faces maintained shocked curiosity. Mikeal whispered something to Octavian, who did not want to respond, as he was guiding them out of Tim the Printer Guy’s space. The customer seemed confused as well, but he looked up at Tim, only to repeat his complaints.
“I need my cameras set up,” he said.
“Security cameras, huh?” Tim the Printer Guy asked, poking at the box on the counter.
“Can you help me?” the man asked in a blunt, low tone.
“Well, I know a thing or two about technology. I actually go around training people on whatever printers they get in,” said Tim.
“Why do you do that?”
“It is just what my company does—we are just an extra shoulder, y’know. I go around and have people train on our app, usually on how to sell certain things related to printers,” Tim elaborated.
“So, they need you to train their employees?”
“I don’t just train, I mentor and guide them. I really think that I have made a bond with the boys here,” Tim paused for a moment and looked at the Adonises, who all tried to look busy, but occasionally would glance over at Tim and the customer. “They are quite something,” he said wistfully.
“They don’t seem to be much of anything… they could not get my cameras set up!” the man said, raising his voice.
Tim the Printer Guy stopped and stared at the customer. He slouched more so on his chair and looked down at the cameras—his source of hostility. The man then looked up at Tim and squinted his eyes a bit.
“You look like you know a thing or two,” the man said.
“I have been around the store a lot.”
“That is good,” said the man. “What is your name?”
“Uh…” Tim hesitated for a moment. “My name is Tim.”
“Tim what?”
“I’m Tim, the uh… Printer Guy.”
“You said that. You got a last name?”
Tim the Printer Guy looked down and he thought for a moment about what to even say to this. The family name was as lost to him, as was the path back home. Philosophical and moral differences left Tim so far removed from his father that once he left to pursue his artistic dreams, he had given up the name. For a moment Tim the Printer Guy forgot about the Adonises and, again, felt the pain of his family.
“Let’s just keep this professional. You can call me Tim the Printer Guy,” he said, evading the question.
“I’m Fred,” the man said. “Fred Shudnow.”
There was a slimy appendage, extended to Tim in the form of a handshake. Tim stared at this gesture, not sure of how to accept it. Yes, this creature who called himself Fred, was a pale, ghost-like creature who, it seemed, dwelled in subterranean tunnels, yet he presented an invitation of contact that resembled something of friendship. His eyes were gray—droopy, but intrigued by Tim the Printer Guy. Tim reached out his own hand and took hold of Fred’s frail flipper.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“Nice to meet you,” Tim the Printer Guy said.
“So, what do you know about cameras, Mr. Printer Guy?” Fred asked.
Tim the Printer Guy, started to open the box. “Not all too much, to be honest,” he said.
“Well at least you are a better help then the people around here,” Fred grunted.
Tim looked around at the once attentive Adonises, who were still giving glances in Fred’s direction and all the while whispering things towards each other. They treated him in the ways Tim the Printer Guy was by the gremlins. He felt the air turn sour as their eyes cast a fog of contempt which overlapped Tim as well.
“I admit they are being a little off today, but normally they are extraordinary,” said Tim.
Fred looked over at them and sneered back. “Those guys?” he said, “they are not anything special.” He finished his remark with a wave of his hand—figuratively tossing them away as a group of degenerates.
“What do you see in them?” Fred asked.
Tim the Printer Guy could not divulge his infatuation with the Adonises to this man. Fred would not understand the ways they brought creativity and inspiration. Tim, himself, did not even understand.
“They are nice…” Tim said.
“Nice!?” Fred exclaimed. “They tossed me aside, spit on me, and treated me like a gremlin!”
Tim the Printer Guy went into a quiet rage. “Well you have been pestering them, and they told you that you cannot be helped!”
“Maybe I can be a bit demanding, but I need these cameras and I don’t know where else I can go.”
“Why not just call the manufacturer? I am sure they have a help line or something,” said Tim.
“I already tried, it was this automated call thing. I couldn’t speak to a real person, so I went down to a few stores and they kept pointing me back here, where I bought the damn things! Every time I come in, though, they always look at me like some sort of ghost or something.”
“Then why did you keep coming back?”
“Well… I got nowhere else to go.”
Tim the Printer Guy could sympathize with Fred’s sentiments. The Adonises, throughout the past week, had found ways to dig at his soul. Instead of giving him artistic inspiration or sought after feelings of admiration—as though he was to be respected—they began to drift away. While attempting to win Octavian’s reverence, he instead received physical pain, which forced him to indulge, and rely on medication—something which was no longer a plentiful resource. Tim the Printer Guy’s face had been periodically seizing up with this agonizing pressure that, at points, would paralyze his mind. The Adonises’ current aloofness spurred chest pains to match, which forced Tim the Printer Guy to detach from his previous desire to win them over. As he looked deep into the frustrated eyes of this man, he began to see problems they created.
“I can understand that, I guess,” said Tim.
“So what do you think I should do about the cameras?”
Tim looked down at the box once more and opened it. “Are there any instructions?” he asked.
“Some card telling me I should just go to the website, but I can’t figure any of that computer stuff out,” said Fred with another toss of his hands in the air.
Tim saw the store computer sitting beside the two of them. It was primarily used by the workers to clock in and out, but there was still access to the internet. He typed in the website and saw a link for instructions to set up the cameras.
“Well here are the instructions right here!” Tim exclaimed. “Would you want me to print them out for you?”
“Thank you, I don’t think I ever would have gotten to those on my own,” said Fred. “Wow, you already helped me out more than those jerks!”
“Well, a lot of the instructions here look like you have to do a bit of the work yourself, and they can’t come to your house and do it for you,” said Tim, still defending the PaperClips staff.
“Can you come over and install it for me?” asked Fred.
“To your house?” Tim was surprised. “No, that is not something I can do, sorry,” he said.
“I’ll pay you.”
Those were words that Tim the Printer Guy thought he would never hear. Years and years he spent, scavenging for work and money, hoping that someone would want to pay him for his services. Yet there was always the threat of Skeeter and his way of knowing certain things. If Tim left to go off with this man, he might find out and throw a fit, especially if it was for work—all the little money Tim had went to Skeeter and his father.
“No I can't, I am sorry,” said Tim the Printer Guy.
Fred looked into his eyes, and then looked down. “Okay, I believe you,” he said, nodding his head. “How long are you going to be here?”
Tim looked back at him. “Until closing time,” he said.
Fred leaned back with content. “Good.”
Octavian walked over, still looking concerned. “How is it going over here?” he whispered to Tim.
“It’s fine, we were just looking over the cameras,” Tim said.
“This guy is helping me out because you never will,” Fred snapped.
Octavian stared at Fred with more hatred. His eyes burned into the man and his back straightened into an imposing, hostile stiffness. He looked back at Tim the Printer Guy and whispered back into his ear through gritted teeth, “Can you please hurry and get him out of here?”
Tim the Printer Guy felt sluggish and sweaty as he, for the first time, felt the aggression of Octavian. His muscles, finely visible through his PaperClips uniform, were statuesque and square. His height rose to a commanding six foot, which towered over Tim’s head and made him feel smaller and more insignificant. “Well…” Tim the Printer Guy stuttered, regressing into a submissive state. “We… uh, just started and I haven’t made any… uh, progress on it.”
“I will leave!” shouted Fred, hopping to his feet and taking the box of cameras.
Octavian, surprised by this, dropped his aggressive posture. Mikeal and Cage also poked their heads out from the aisles they were hiding in to see the spectacle of Fred leaving..
“Well, at least you have one person here who helped me,” said Fred, who picked himself up and stomped out the door.
A smile formed across Octavian’s face as Fred left. He turned back at Tim with a new, kinder attitude. “Great!” he exclaimed. “Thanks Tim, for getting him to leave finally.” Octavian patted Tim the Printer Guy on the shoulder.
Tim, who was still in a state of fear, felt the pat hurt his arm. Octavian’s strength was still so present and left a mark. Tim the Printer Guy had to rub his arm in an effort to massage the pain away. Octavian then walked away, leaving Tim alone at the front of the store, watching Fred stomp out into the parking lot. The awkward man walked flat-footed to a very nice Mercedes S-Class sedan, threw the camera box in the back seat, and then furiously got in the front and drove off at great speed. Tim the Printer Guy looked back out at the Adonises, who were just conversing with one another, completely ignoring the ProSales training app. The second chance he got today was again wasted, as Tim’s influence was cast aside.
Tim the Printer Guy, now enraged, made his way again to the bathroom. Again, it was time to ground himself from the emotional torment the Adonises put him through. Though Tim the Printer Guy wanted to help alleviate their workplace torment, each time he extended a helping hand, he was always pushed down in the dirt. Finding solitude was necessary to delve inward and confront this pain once more. He entered the bathroom in a fury—slamming the door, stumbling through puddles of dirty water, and clutching the sink in a desperate attempt to hang onto his sanity. He looked down at the faucet, as it slowly dripped away, each drop a thorn in Tim’s brain.
“Why do I keep coming back to them?” he asked himself.
“Because you need them!” a voice bellowed from over his shoulder.
There, in the reflection of the mirror, was Bandaged Cage dripping blood from his head wrappings onto the floor. Tim the Printer Guy hastily spun to stare at him directly, still pierced with disgust and failure.
“You… I did what you asked and became vulnerable once more. It is true, Mikeal did not see me act in a way of anger, yet I just saw all three of them lash out and act in a way that was so unfitting of their beauty,” Tim stated with aggression. “I know that Fred guy is a little off and looks like a gremlin, but he seemed nice and was just looking for some guidance. I thought the Adonises were different—they did not have to treat him like that,” he continued.
“You have already been swayed by many forms of trickery. This man is not to be trusted,” said Bandaged Cage.
“Well I did not say I would trust him, only that he did not deserve such treatment. I can understand the feeling as though you're an outcast…”
“I will tell you this once: ignore his pathetic attempts at friendship and go back to the Adonises.”
Tim the Printer Guy looked at Bandaged Cage for a moment but turned away. There was no understanding anymore. The Adonises just seemed too distant, which frightened Tim, as he finally felt that there was no hope to win over their attention. If they wanted to quit, then it was in their power to do so—and, with this new opportunity of friendship, there was such little reasoning to pursue them further. That customer was the first person in a long time to give Tim the Printer Guy a direct message of kindness. Connecting with him might be enough to separate himself from the beauty of the Adonises. Maybe it was time to solemnly let his muses go.
He walked out of the bathroom and saw that the lights were starting to turn off throughout the store—it was closing time. The Adonises were nowhere in sight. Tim made his way to the front of the store in a daze, looking back at the dilapidation and the absence of the men he once desired. Just then, Octavian bolted out of a door by the front, holding an empty register drawer.
“Tim, you’re still here?” he asked.
“I was just leaving,” Tim the Printer Guy said.
“Okay, yeah because we are trying to close everything down,” Octavian said, overwhelmed with Tim’s presence. “You don’t have to buy anything though, right?”
“Oh… I am fine, there is nothing I need here,” Tim sorrowfully said.
The doors were already closed and behind a large metal fence. Tim the Printer Guy slowly pushed the fence to the side and made his way out the door. Sadness filled his soul, yet his anxiety and physical pain started to fade with each step. Rain still poured, keeping the parking lot drenched, reflecting the streetlights, along with the inconsistent glow of the PaperClips sign. It hung like the moon, and emanated nothing but melancholy.
There were only a few cars in the parking lot, which Tim assumed were the Adonises’. He went to his own car, which was left alone, close to the pond and covered with small sticks and dirt. The rain and wind had consumed the vehicle and made it almost one with the earth. Tim brushed the debris off and got into the front seat. He turned the ignition, but nothing happened. Again, his head fell on the steering wheel and Tim let out a long sigh. He turned and saw that all the cars were now gone from the lot and the PaperClips sign was extinguished of its glow. Tim the Printer Guy was alone in the darkness.
As the fear started to creep back into his mind, bright lights flooded the inside of his car. Outside, was another vehicle facing him. Panic followed as he tried to peer past the headlights and the rain, hoping to catch a glimpse of who this was.
“Hey, are you okay?” asked a familiar voice.
Fred Shudnow got out of the car and moved closer to Tim, who was surprised to see him back after such a display of frustration.
“What are you doing here?” asked Tim.
“Well I was just driving and, I don’t know, something brought me back to see if you were still here. Are you having trouble starting your car?”
Tim the Printer Guy did not want to seem helpless. “Oh… no I am fine,” he mumbled.
“I can give you a ride, if you want. The rain is coming down pretty hard and I don’t think you want to be stranded out here.”
Tim looked deep into his eyes, which were relaxed and genuine. “Okay,” he said.
They both got into the car and drove off.