III – MR. PARKER

Little by little

“That will be 18.99,” I told the lady, handing her her bag of groceries.

The lady opened her purse and pulled out twenty dollars.

“Here’s twenty. Keep the change.”

“Thank you ma'am,” I said, trying very hard to hide my satisfaction.

Ever since my return to Blue Cove this had been my most generous tip so far. I was caught by surprised when I arrived to re-assume my position as Chairman of The Centre and found a supermarket instead. The world had definitely changed.

Having no job, and nowhere else to go, I had no choice but to volunteer for a cashier job. Luckily they accepted my power-point resumé and there I was.

I checked my wristwatch. Nearly five minutes to go before my bathroom break.

Soon,I thought.

Although the store was empty, my boss had given very strict instructions regarding schedules. It was one of the rules I didn’t mind following to heart, me being a punctual man myself, with a clockwork bladder. I didn’t like the uniform though. The gray reminded me too much of my former lab-rats. All of them now out there without no one to hold their leashes.

My post was the one closest to the main entrance. It was a privilege to be there. I could see who came, who went. I was such a lucky man.

I am such a lucky man.

Hey! I’ve already said that! You didn't have to write it.

Sorry.

Don't do that. It confuses the reader.

No, it doesn't.

Was that your answer or me thinking?

Your answer.

See? It's difficult to tell one from the other. Go sit in the corner. I'll call you when it's time to write THE END.

I checked my watch again. Four minutes left. I heard the door swishing open and then He came in. My heart increased its pounding.

No! Please tell me it’s not him.

Are you talking to me?

No! Get out of here!

Upon my return to Blue Cove, I had managed to turn every unexpected occurrence in my favor. Getting employed HERE as a cashier was the first step in a larger plan which, if every thing well, would result on me regaining my position as head of The Centre. Or being elected as employee of the month. Either scenario had now been compromised by the arrival of that man.

I turned my back to him, hoping he hadn’t seen me. I wasn’t that lucky. Feeling someone tapping my shoulder, I turned and feigned surprise.

“Hi,” I said.

“Hey! I knew it was you!” Jarod said.

“How did you know?” I asked.

“I saw your car outside. Who else would have a sticker saying: «I jumped off an airplane with a box containing two scrolls and all I got was this stupid sticker»?”

“You caught me.” I said.

“Tell me something, was that a standard sticker or…?”

“Almost standard. The original sticker said: «I jumped off an airplane with a box containing three scrolls and all I got was this stupid sticker». I had to order a new one, just because of that.”

“That’s a shame. Well, I have some shopping to do. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure thing.”

Jarod walked away with his shopping cart and went to the Candy Zone.

Can I just make a small note? It's about the story.

Go ahead.

Hi, I'm the author.

Get to the point! We're all freeze-framed here!

I’ve never been to an American supermarket. I don’t know if there’s a Candy Zone or not. Besides, Blue Cove doesn’t even exist. So quit complaining!

That's it?

Yes.

Very enlightening.

Thank you.

I was being sarcastic.

Turning my attention back to Jarod, I watched in awe as he filled his shopping cart with PEZ-Dispensers.

Is that all he eats? I wondered. I’m surprised he’s not fat. Maybe it’s genetic. I scolded myself. Stop it, Parker! He can endanger everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve it the past three months. You need to get rid of him before he realizes what you’re doing.

I was a patient man, and a practical one as well. I knew I could get The Centre back. All I needed was getting enough money to pay the debt to Mr. Stevenson and I would be back in my office at The Tower.

Of course, before I could go there, I had to pay someone to build a new tower first. How sad I felt when I came here and realized that my beautiful Tower had been dismantled to give place to a restaurant area. The saddest part was that they didn’t have Mexican.

The sub-levels were all still in place, but instead of cells and torture chambers they now had parking spaces.

I opened my personal tip-box and counted the money. I had almost eleven dollars. 10.97 to be accurate. Little by little, tip by tip, I was slowly getting the necessary funds to finance my dream.

Please, don’t let him know.

I looked to where Jarod was, but Jarod was no longer there.

Where the hell did he go?

I took a look around. I was alone.

Maybe it was a dream.

Then, I looked up and saw the surveillance camera pointing at me. I began to sweat. My personal box was still open.

The money! I can’t let them see the money!

I moved as fast as I could to close the box when I felt a strong hand grabbing my arm. I turned. It was Jarod. And my boss was with him.

“Hold it right there, Parker,” my boss said.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Oh yeah? What’s all this, then?” Jarod asked, referring to the money.

“Those are my tips.”

“Pretty generous tips, wouldn't you say?”

Jarod nodded. “I think he’s been embezzling.”

“No, I haven’t.”

“Yes, I think so too.”

“I’m telling you, I haven’t done anything illegal.”

Jarod produced a small digital tape from his pocket.

“This tape proves you stole two cents.”

If I hadn't been so ambitious!

“Parker, you’re fired!”

“This is all your fault, Jarod! You and your stupid pretends.”

“This is not a pretend. I’m the new Security Chief around here. And my name isn’t Jarod, it’s Ebeneezer. I was just pretending to be him so I could approach you easier. Jarod will have his own story at chapter eight. Nine if you count the prologue.”

The boss snapped his fingers and two security-guards, former sweepers, came and grabbed me by the shoulders and dragged me out.

THE END

That was the worst end possible. Why didn't you warn me about Jarod?

That wasn't Jarod.

Oh! You know what I mean!

You told me not to interfere. So I didn't.

Great time to start following the rules.