Tim the Printer Guy awoke from his medicated slumber. He rubbed his face, wiping away the sweat which completely glossed his forehead. Slowly, he regained his consciousness and rolled his eyes around the room to see the sun shining brightly through the large window. He could hear birds chirping and a breeze rustingling the trees. As more of his surroundings became visible, he started to recall the night before, wondering if he was still in some sort of dream. Tim sat up, still slumping his shoulders—he noticed that he’d slept over the covers. The blankets of the bed were still tightly cinched down. Sweat stained the top one and made a perfect outline of his body.
What time is it? Tim the Printer Guy thought to himself. He looked up and once again saw the portrait of the sleeping man staring back at him. The daylight brought out more colors in the print and Tim was able to notice more details.
The sleeping man had strong features: an evenly squared jaw, lush curly, auburn hair, and the nose of a Greek god. His body was unclothed, yet the blankets on the bed carefully covered his torso, so that nothing shameful showed. His face looked comatose and with his skin—which was a porcelain, alabaster shade—he looked sickly. His mouth hung open in a dumb expression, while his head and body laid on his arm, which appeared limp. Entranced by his pose, Tim the Printer Guy longingly stared at the picture, scanning it for anything else. Next to the man’s head was a small end table which had a bottle of pills tipped over and spilling out on the table top and floor.
Tim the Printer Guy then looked over at the end table aside the bed he sat on, exactly the same and with the pill bottle of sleeping medication sitting upright. Everything was mirrored in such a way that Tim was beginning to feel disoriented. He took out his phone and saw that he missed numerous calls from Skeeter—the clock also read 11:45.
Damnit! Tim thought to himself, knowing that he was due for a walloping of anger from his boss.
Skeeter had left a voice message: “Tim, I don’t know where you are but you need to get down to Best Value! Don’t think that you can run away from me and that I can’t find you! I noticed you did not come back to the apartment last night, so I really hope that you are working and getting these workers to sign up for courses—immediately, or it’s over! The apartment, the job, I will take it all away. My father will not have it!”
Tim the Printer Guy rubbed his face again to calm his nerves. He stretched his arms out, stood up from the bed, and looked out the window. Fred was in the yard messing with something in one of his trees. He was barefoot, and perched upon a metal ladder. His frame was awkwardly tall for the type of reach he needed to make, so his back was hunched as he tried to maintain balance.
Tim rushed down the stairs to him, to hold the ladder still.
“Need a hand?” asked Tim.
“Oh.” Fred turned his head to see a smiling printer guy, finally awake. “Look who is up! You’re good, I just wanted to put one of these cameras up here to see how it would look.”
“How many cameras do you want to set up?”
“As many as I can. That kit that I bought comes with three, but I want to keep getting more.”
“I can definitely help you set them up, but I honestly don’t know how much help I can give you. I have never set up cameras before.”
“You seem like you know more than I do when it comes to this tech stuff, so I am sure I’ll need you.”
Tim the Printer Guy smiled. “Hey, I need to go to work today and you drove me here…”
“Do you need a ride?” Fred cut him off.
“If that would not be too much trouble,” Tim said.
“I brought you here, so it's no problem at all. Where do you got to be?” asked Fred as he climbed down from the ladder.
“I’ve got to be at that Best Value store in town. My boss is pretty upset about it.”
“Well we should get down there then,” Fred said, walking past Tim and back over to the car.
Fred started up the car, and Tim the Printer Guy saw that he left his computer-slash-incentive bag on the passenger's seat. While picking up the bag from the soft, elegant seat, Tim the Printer Guy noticed that it had been opened. Looking inside, he saw that things were missing. There was no laptop in the bag, which was normal as Tim did not use one, but what was out of the ordinary was the lack of incentives—there were none!
“Where are the coupons?” Tim questioned, turning to Fred.
“What coupons?” Fred asked, not looking Tim in the eye and already in the process of backing out of the property.
“I had coupons in here to reward the people I talk to. It is one of the main things I need! My boss will be furious with me!”
“Calm down,” Fred said, still not looking at Tim and driving without disturbance. “I don’t know what happened with any of that, and I have been outside working all day.”
“Well, did you take any?” Tim asked.
Fred finally looked over at Tim the Printer Guy for a moment, but stayed silent.
Tim wanted to break the noticeable tension: “I won’t be mad—”
“You think I am a thief,” Fred cut him off. “Well, I didn’t take anything.”
“No, I am sorry, but I just thought if…”
Tim the Printer Guy felt the car move off to the side. Fred was pulling over to the shoulder, along the winding, forest backroad. He stopped the car and turned back to Tim, still with a stern glare.
“You should know I don’t steal from people, because I don’t need anything from anyone.”
Tim sat silent.
Fred continued, “I don’t know what happened with your coupons or whatever. I did not have a reason to look in your bag, so don’t think for one second I took them.”
“Okay,” Tim whispered in response.
“How about I give you some money you can hand out to people if you need something like that? But you have to pay me back.”
Tim thought for a moment that he judged Fred too soon. “You don’t have to do that, maybe they fell beneath the seat or something.”
“Hey, hey hey—” Fred stopped Tim’s rummaging. “They could’ve fell out of the bag somewhere at PaperClips or something, so let’s not bother with it now. I can give you some money and we will work everything out when your shift is over.”
Tim, realizing that he did not have any time to go about searching for the lost coupons, decided to take advantage of his friend’s kind gesture. “Okay,” he said, smiling in an earnest response of genuine appreciation. Though Fred’s abrupt reaction to the possibility of theft was startling, Tim believed it was a passionate response to his innocence. It being that Fred chose to provide assistance, Tim the Printer Guy felt a twinge of shame that he even thought to persecute him.
“I apologize and I will repay you for your kind deeds,” said Tim, retracting all his previous sentiments.
Fred looked him up and down and began to drive again, staying silent and with his head forward. They soon arrived at Best Value and Tim the Printer Guy was rushing to head inside.
“Hold on,” Fred stopped him, holding out a thick wad of cash.
Tim had never seen so much money before. It stared at him and beckoned his hands to grab hold. “You are giving me this?” he asked.
“Well you said you will pay me back, right?” Fred asked with a grin.
Tim the Printer Guy was floored, and knew that even if he worked for a year, there was no easy way he could save the money to pay Fred back. “I-I can’t…” he stuttered, “I wouldn’t be able to repay the money—”
“You know, money is not the only way to pay me back,” said Fred.
“Of course, I will work on those cameras and if you have anything else…”
“We will think of something,” Fred said, quieting the over-excited Tim. “Why don’t you take this money and head inside. I will be back in a few hours. Got to run and do a couple of errands. hat time do you expect to be done?”
“Uh.. around five I think, that should be good,” Tim stammered, still fumbling with the cash he just received.
“Go inside now, and I will pick you up.”
Tim the Printer Guy did what he was told and hurriedly shuffled through the Best Value doors. With all that cash in his pocket, Tim started to think about what he could do with it, how he could better himself. It was far more than expected, and why should he waste this wealth on the gremlin, Best Value employees? They had always treated Tim the Printer Guy with so much disrespect that he had to greatly limit his visits. If Skeeter commanded him to go out to the store, Tim would seek to avoid it by devoting all his time to PaperClips. It had been almost a year since he had walked through these doors, yet with the Adonises in their current state and Tim with his new found friend, Best Value seemed like the preferred option today. Maybe this was the start of something new—a promising chance to teach a new group of pupils the art of selling printers.
But why did these creatures possess so many eyes? The gremlins here were so off-putting, with their feathery heads darting around the store, sticking beaks into Tim the Printer Guy’s business. Their boney, winged appendages, lightly gripping their phones with no control—no conviction. It was a wonder how they even achieved any business with how they exhibited so much apathy for their job.
The store looked well enough on the surface. There were different, specialized departments and sections a lot like PaperClips: an area for home goods, some small shelves for simple grocery, and a section that contained the printers, computers, and other tech items. Best Value also had the trimmings of excess—many articles of waste and frivolous luxury which made Tim gag: cheap, “designer” clothes, as well as board games and chintzy, plastic toys. Coffee makers and hygienic items such as toilet paper and floss took away from the essentials. They did not have much of a printer selection, and whatever ones they did have were cheap. Best Value did not even have the newest models of printers, essential for completing a lot of ProSales training courses.
Again, Tim had to steady his emotions and think optimistically. He had hardly seen the people here all year and, at this moment, there was no sign yet of absolute misery. If he was going to find another koi pond to anchor his printer teachings in, perhaps it could be this one. He walked up to the counter of the tech department to inform a manager that he had arrived.
“How may I help you?” asked an annoying gremlin pigeon, eagerly pecking at Tim.
“Hi, I uh… am here to train you on the printers that you sell,” said Tim trying desperately to avoid its gaze.
“Oh yeah, we were expecting you!” the pigeon chirped. “Let me just tell my manager you are here, and you can head over to the printer aisle.”
Tim the Printer Guy looked over at their poor excuse for a printer aisle and felt the anxiety wash over him. The spastic fowl at the desk gave every indication that today would be insufferable. The manager quickly flocked over to Tim and extended his wing for a handshake.
“My name is Emile, I am the manager of this store, and I would like to welcome you back!” the manager squawked. “We just got some new recruits who are excited to learn about the products that we sell and I am glad that you could take time from your busy schedule to train them.”
Tim looked at this gremlin, whom he had been in the presence of before. Standing taller than most, he desperately tried to maintain a straight posture, holding his head up above Tim in a feeble attempt at dominance. He was more slender than Tim, yet there was a noticeable paunch for a gut underneath a billowy, button-up shirt tucked into his slacks. Tim the Printer Guy chuckled—this birdbrain simpleton was nothing of what the Adonises were.
“Who do you want me to train first?” Tim asked, giving up on optimism and succumbing to the misery which was already abundant. At this moment, he wanted nothing more than to just get this over with and train these harpy magpies for Skeeter. This was a lot like life before the Adonises. Tim was a husk of a man, worn down by Skeeter and the demands of dull corporate life. As this horrid, winged rat babbled nonsense, Tim the Printer Guy looked down at his pocket, and felt the large sum of money. He smiled knowing that Fred Shudnow’s newfound wealth could possibly bring him out of despair.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
“So I have Carlos and Esther for you to train today,” said Emile, pointing to a couple of Best Value employees who approached Tim.
They both had these wicked, unnerving smiles. One appeared to be male and the other was an aged female. She had gray, stringy hair and was slouching, as it appeared her spine was too frail to support her wrinkly, droopy flesh.
“So are you that cool printer guy I keep hearing about?” the more taut male asked with an irritating whine. “My name is Carlos.”
“And I am Esther,” said the decrepit female. “Now, hopefully you go easy on me. I am tech illiterate!” she cackled.
Tim mustered a smile. “Oh that is alright, no need to squawk about it…” he said.
Esther was confused by that statement, but continued to maintain high energy. “Alright, Tim, what do you need me to do first?” she squawked.
“First, I’ll need you to take out your phone,” said Tim the Printer Guy.
Carlos took out his phone, while Esther just stood there not doing anything.
“Can you take out your phone?” Tim asked again.
“Sorry Tim, I am not a ‘techy’ person like yourself, so I don’t got no phone,” she babbled with an irritating twang, followed by another cackle.
“You don’t have a phone?” Tim asked, feeling sickened by the need to ask.
“No. I am still old-fashioned, you know. I don't know much about all this cell phone stuff,” she continued. “Do you really need one of those smartphones to train with?”
Tim the Printer Guy looked down at his own busted-up smartphone, which Skeeter controlled, only leaving space for the ProSales courses. He felt an intense anger swell up inside of him.
“Is there anyone around that can lend you a phone?” Tim asked, tired and frustrated.
Esther looked over to Emile, who was watching the group. “Anything I can help with?” he asked, walking over.
“Your employee here does not have a phone to train with. I can’t train her without a phone…” said Tim.
Emile looked over at a suddenly downtrodden Esther. “I am sorry, I just don’t own one,” she said.
“Okay she can use mine. What app do we need to download?” Emile asked.
Tim the Printer Guy huffed out more exhaustion. The fact that he had to explain this again was another thorn in his side.
“It is the one app that we use!” shouted Tim. “The name of my company… ProSales?” He asked with a twinge of frustration.
“Oh okay, here we are.” Emile gave his phone to Esther. Carlos also downloaded the app onto his device.
“What should we start with first?” Carlos interrogated.
“Seeing that you do not even sell the 9000 series, I guess we should just start with the 6000 one,” Tim explained, rolling his eyes.
“Alright I cannot wait to win some prizes using ProSales!” Carlos squealed.
Tim the Printer Guy had nothing to give this fool, even if he finished the course. Fred had given him the money to serve as some sort of prize, but Tim only thought of how he could keep it for himself.
“Well, prizes are pretty minimal today, so we will see how far you actually get,” Tim responded to Carlos.
“How do I start the course?” Esther asked, confused and staring at the phone she was holding.
“You just touch it to start…?” Tim awkwardly responded.
Carlos leaned over to help Esther out. “Oh look at that! Dang this technology is crazy, and keeps gettin’ more and more complicated, that an old timer like myself can’t even keep up!” Esther said while projecting that same, irritating cackle.
“Would you just shut up, you insufferable hag,” Tim whispered under his breath.
“Excuse me?” Esther replied, still laughing and truly not hearing the insult.
“Uh… I will be right back,” Tim the Printer Guy said, leaving the two to work on the training courses.
He looked over by the register and went through the small candy treats, trying to find cheap prizes for the employees. Tim found two, fun-sized chocolate bars and, using a pen that was sitting on the counter, wrote: “To my main man Carlos”. On the other one he wrote: “To Fester”, not knowing how to spell that pigeon’s name.
“Is that all?” a wretched, register parrot asked, looking him up and down with her many beady eyes.
“How much?” asked Tim.
“2.45”
Tim the Printer Guy reached in his pocket and pulled out some money to pay the magpie, when he saw a brilliant sight. Standing by the tech area was a lone Adonis, talking with the pigeon who’d first greeted him—Cage! He was wearing normal, street clothes, and not the uniform Tim knew so well. He wore a baseball cap, a graphic t-shirt, and worn blue jeans. For the first time, Tim laid eyes upon Cage in his natural state, away from PaperClips and thus away from any distraction. The last interaction with him had gone poorly, as he—along with Octavian and Mikeal—had besmirched Tim’s new friend. There was a tiny bit of anger and resentment towards the three of them, as Tim had to practically save Fred from their rage. How could they act in such a way? Did their beauty place them so far out of reach and leave their morals stained with vanity? All Tim wanted to do was to grab Cage and ask him why he felt that way towards Fred—why did he feel the need to bully him?
Then it seemed like all of Tim’s questions were answered by the sight of Adem, who approached the Adonis. It seemed like they’d come to Best Value together, and were in the middle of a conversation with the pigeon gremlin. Sweat started to ooze out of Tim the Printer Guy, adding to his stench at making him feel every bit uncomfortable. The parrot in front of him started to sneer and cringe.
“What is that smell?” she rudely asked.
Tim, still caught in the spell of Cage, answered, “Desire.”
He rushed over to the young man in a desperate attempt to stray him away from Adem, for Cage had the least to do with the altercation with Fred. Sure, he’d been there, and it appeared he despised Tim’s new friend, but Tim recalled that he sat mostly quiet while Octavian, leading a furious Jew rage, blasted poor Fred. Mikeal had also been far more belligerent, leaving poor, sweet Cage probably just following along out of fear. But that damn Adem was still pestering the young Adonis! His lazy, foul influence over him could send him further towards evil.
“Cage?” Tim asked, feigning surprise.
Cage and Adem’s eyes widened—they were seemingly frightened by Tim the Printer Guy’s presence. As he stood before them, he was drenched in layers of sweat. His own eyes were piercing due to nervousness and his hands were shaking, still holding the chocolate candy.
“Hey Tim,” said Cage. “You come here too?”
“Unfortunately,” Tim chuckled, trying to ease the tension. “What are you doing here? You can buy all this crap and more at PaperClips.”
Cage awkwardly laughed, but maintained his shocked state. “Yeah,” he said, “but Adem and I were looking to apply for jobs…”
“You have jobs…” said Tim, confused.
“We are just looking for a change,” Adem piped in.
Tim the Printer Guy turned to Adem, seething with jealousy and rage. “A change?” he questioned. “Why do you talk for him?”
Adem was confused. “Excuse me?” he asked in a monstrously impetuous way.
“We were just trying to look for an application,” Cage added, trying to speak for himself.
“Why would you want to leave PaperClips though?” Tim was growing more erratic.
“They just don’t pay enough, and they don’t offer any benefits. We wanted to look around at other places,” Cage stammered, still bothered by Tim’s abrasive behavior.
“Well what about me? I mean… you are so good at that job, and I don’t see people like you too often. You can’t leave! You will be throwing all that you worked for away—your ProSales account will reset!”
Cage and Adem were now rightfully concerned and wanted to leave.
“Okay, we’ve got to go,” Adem said, urging Cage to follow him.
They started to walk out the door, and Tim the Printer Guy felt more of the same anxiety that he was familiar with infecting his body again. He started to feel tears come to his eyes as he saw Cage walk away from him. Tim was done with the failure. They put him through so much emotional distress, that every moment with them was too much to bear.
“Cage, don’t walk out that door—Adem is not to be trusted!” Tim the Printer Guy called out.
Though Tim was making a scene in the store, attracting the eyes of some of the gremlins, Cage did not seem to hear him. Adem had already taken him out of earshot, speeding out into the parking lot. Tim the Printer Guy made a fist and slammed it on the tech bench.
“Damnit!” he cursed, slouching down on the desk to weep.
“Are you alright man?” asked the Best Value pigeon, who had been talking with Cage and Adem, therefore witnessing the entire situation.
Tim the Printer Guy just looked up at the beast and gave a menacing glare, he then dipped his head back down and returned to his sadness. The pigeon left in fear, and as soon as Tim was finally alone, Carlos came bounding up to the counter.
“Hey Tim-o, I got the first test completed and I passed!” he exclaimed.
Tim groaned with despair.
“Alright Mr. Tim, I passed the test on the phone, but I still got a lot of questions about the printer,” said Esther, walking up to also badger Tim. “How do you print from the phone? Also, do people need a phone to print to the printer? I remember back in my day, we had good ol’ fashion computers…” She continued to ramble.
Tim the Printer Guy groaned more. “Ah… I have to go…” he said.
Carlos and Esther stopped, confused again.
“You are going already?” asked Carlos.
“Family emergency,” Tim said, getting back on his feet.
He handed Carlos the chocolate candy he bought for him, as well as Esther, whose chocolate had been crushed by Tim’s fist. They both were disillusioned as Tim the Printer Guy walked past them, looking straight ahead and not acknowledging either of their presence as he ventured towards the back of the store. Tim the Printer Guy needed, again, the solitary of the bathroom stall to calm down. He barged through the doors and checked to see if he was truly alone. As there were no nuisance gremlins in the stalls, he fell onto one of the toilets and blubbered loudly.
“No, Tim, think of this as a good thing,” he cried to himself. “They can’t control your emotions anymore. You have the money now, and Fred—he can take care of you. Endings are sad, but they are necessary!”
Tim the Printer Guy reached for the hefty wad of cash to look at it once more. Perhaps feeling the weight would be enough to halt any more tears. As he pulled it out, he felt something else in his pocket. Reaching back into his pants, he pulled out a couple of small pills—painkillers.
“What's this?” Tim asked, stunned by the sight, yet welcoming its relief.
He threw the pills down his throat, closed his eyes, and sat back, taking deep breaths. The pain began to subside and Tim was feeling lighter, more comfortable again. He lost all sense in where he was and for a brief moment, thought about Fred and a new beginning away from the Adonises. Tim the Printer Guy opened his eyes and stood up.
“It’s fine,” he said. “This job, these anxieties are not supposed to last forever…”
Tim walked out towards the mirror and faucets, with a bit more levity and feeling alright. He began to wash his hands and splash water on his face. When he looked in the mirror, Bandaged Cage was standing right behind him.
“You!” Tim the Printer Guy screamed. “Begone spirit, I will not return to the Adonises! It is pointless to continue… I have found my own salvation.”
“Do you really believe you can run away with that man? That he will save you from your failures?” asked Bandaged Cage.
“Did you see the money he gave me? This guy has the means to protect me!” Tim yelled.
“Kusogaki!” cried Bandaged Cage, while blood gushed from underneath his bandages and splattered onto the floor. “You are abandoning them and leaving them to the will of that oni!”
“Trying to keep them from Adem is killing me. You must understand that I cannot do it anymore. I have to find my own happiness. To say goodbye to them is painful, but to hold on to them is even more excruciating!”
Bandaged Cage raised a finger to Tim the Printer Guy, a long nail growing, to form a sharp dagger directed at Tim’s forehead.
“You are taking a coward's way out. Giving up on art… What would your mother say?” asked Bandaged Cage.
Tim stood still, angry and focused on the faceless yōkai. “Leave my mother out of this!”
“Would you give up on her?” pestered Bandaged Cage. “Is that why you haven’t returned to save her, because of your cowardice?”
“Shut up!” yelled Tim. “You are not my father!”
And with that final declaration, Bandaged Cage was gone. Tim the Printer Guy, knowing that he had silenced the yōkai for now, walked out of the bathroom. Standing just outside the door, was a group of scared children who, it seemed, heard Tim shouting at the spirit.
“Out of my way, feathered freaks!” Tim shouted at the children before storming off toward the exit.
In the distance, by the front registers, Tim the Printer Guy could see Carlos and Esther talking with Emile who was looking back over at Tim with a muddle-headed stare. Tim looked down and thought about walking out on it all—the Adonises, Bandaged Cage, Skeeter, ProSales… A change needed to happen in his life. His already fragile psyche was about to collapse, as the Adonises brought out a feeling in him that Tim despised. A feeling that was left by his father, beckoning him to commit acts of brutality, just reclaim the optimism for life and beauty. No more will Tim the Printer Guy serve the Adonises, as it was clear that they had no place in their hearts for him. No more will Tim feel the need to behave in the matter of his father. There was finally a way back to the lost love of art from his youth. Tim the Printer Guy was going to work with Fred, and all the money that he promised would help get him back to his mother. Pride now filled his chest as the painkillers faded away. The Anxiety was nonexistent as he started to walk out the doors of Best Value, until…
Tim the Printer Guy saw a curious sight. A hat resting on the ground, right by the door. The same baseball cap that sparked his attention and looked so appealing on the head of the most innocent Adonis—Cage’s hat! Just sitting there calling to Tim, beckoning his touch.
“He must have left it behind somehow,” Tim the Printer Guy whispered to himself, standing still in awe of this moment.
The hat looked back at him with a lonely gaze, wondering where its owner had run off to. Tim was lost in its color, which reminded him of a shade of paint he had not yet mastered. He picked it up and felt the soft fabric tickle his hands. The smell of it was intoxicating. He breathed in that same scent as before, which was always so beautiful. The Adonises had this hold over Tim the Printer Guy which would never be lost or changed. If Tim was to give up on them, then why not have something to remember them by—a token of their beauty?
He shoved the hat into his computer bag.