My Gift To You

Chapter Thirteen: You Can Say I’m a Dreamer, But I’m Not The Only One

It was cold. Benji shouldn’t have left his jacket in the car, and it was a little too late to go and get it now. He walked behind the manager with his arms crossed, not paying attention but still memorizing everything she said. It was quite obvious where everything went anyway: toys here, men’s clothes there, Christmas decorations to the right, house-wares to the left…. Even with his employee discount, Benji would never be able to afford most of this stuff.

So far everything was going well. When asked, Benji explained what had happened to his eye, saying that a kid at school with a stupid grudge had punched him for a reason the guy never told. Miss Norton had bought every word.

“You aren’t a talker, are you?” She asked, though it was more of a you-better-not-be statement that seems like a question.

“Like Depeche Mode says, ‘words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm.’”

The woman stayed silent. Apparently she wasn’t a fan.

“I’m a focused, hard worker,” Benji reassured his boss as they continued on their way to the back of the store.

This Kohl’s department store was attached to a strip mall, so it had check out lanes both by the main entrance at the front of the store and the hook-up to the strip mall at the back. During the day it was choked with people, but at this time of night only the cleaning crew and a handful of night employees were to be found in the building. The unnatural blue light shinning in from the strip mall was eerie against the mannequins wearing the latest fashions and the clearance racks filled with knick-knacks and patty-whacks.

“Good,” Miss Norton said quickly. “Being a night stalker you don’t need to worry about the cash registers, but you’re also on the stand-in list. If someone can’t be here during the day and you aren’t in school, you might be called to take their place. I hope that won’t be a burden.”

“No. You have to work to get the paycheck, right?”

“Right.” The manager only stopped to point out that a pair of pants someone had put on a little boy mannequin were lopsided, then motioned for her new employee to follow her as she hurried down yet another linoleum path. For such a tiny woman, she walked like there was a rabid dog at her heels. “The break room is across the hall from the gift wrapping and customer service stations. You must take a half hour for breakfast, lunch or dinner, even if it’s just to eat a yogurt. Night sift’s break is at 10:00PM and 5:00AM if you’re here that long. We have vending machines, but you can go across the lot to Taco Bell for a more substantial meal. The back room,” Miss Norton explained as she walked through a pair of large swinging doors, “is where you’ll be spending half your time.”

It was bigger than two football fields—at least—and even colder than the main part of the store. The room was built like The Home Depot, shelves upon shelves reaching up to the ginormous ceiling with isles and isles as far as the eye could see.

“There are forklifts to reach the boxes higher up on the shelves and to move around things like exercise equipment,” Miss Norton nearly yelled over the beeping of the heavy machinery racing down an isle. “Ask someone to help you get the boxes, though, until you’re comfortable enough using it. I don’t want any accidents.”

Benji nodded.

“There’s a list on the wall here,” his boss pointed to a large piece of blackboard behind her, “that will help you figure out where you’ll be working on any given night. For starters you’ll be working in the junior women’s department. When you’re done there, just strike it out and choose something else. Make sure you write down what you’re doing so the rest of us aren’t in the dark.”

“Okay.”

“If you have any questions either ask me or find someone else to help you.” Miss Norton took a blank time card from the holder by the time clock and handed it to Benji. “Fill this out, clock in and have fun. Welcome to the club.”

-

Billy slid into the Pizza Hut booth with his salad, still waiting for the large cheese pizza to be served. He was sitting across the table from his mother and sister, playing tic-tac-toe on the back of their paper mats. Something was bothering him, had been since Benji left. Having no idea what it was that was picking away at him, Billy stewed in the large pot of his feelings. It wasn’t worry, but it wasn’t contentment. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t joy. Maybe this was what it felt like as one went insane. One had no idea what one was feeling, the first step toward crazyville. Currently he was standing at the bus stop with his bags, waiting for the driver with the foaming mouth and spinning head to pull the vehicle up alongside the curb with a kindly spoken “howdy!” as the doors swung opened. As long as he didn’t get rabies, Billy would have a nice trip.

“Who’s winning?” The son asked, stabbing random lettuce leaves with his fork.

“Mom, but I’m letting her win,” Sarah answered.

Mrs. Martin smiled slyly. “I’m sure you are. So,” she stopped the current game and looked at Billy, “how’s your friend Benji doing? He seems like a nice kid. I just hope his pants haven’t rusted from the rain.”

Billy laughed softly. “He is nice, I guess. A little rough around the edges, but nice once you get passed that.”

“Why haven’t I met him sooner?”

The man shrugged. “Until recently we weren’t really on the best of terms, even now I’m still not sure what our relationship is….”

“How do you mean?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t really like me, but then he did, but he really didn’t, but he really did. I think we’re okay now, I’m not sure. It’s confusing.”

His mother nodded and got out of the booth so that Sarah could do whatever she needed to do. When she sat back down, the older woman unwrapped her silverware from her napkin. “Well, if you are friends he can come over anytime. He has to stay over at least once, we owe him a dinner.”

“Yeah,” Billy replied.

“If you didn’t want the salad, you shouldn’t have gotten it.”

Billy stopped playing with his food. “I’m hungry, I’m just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Random things. Nothing in particular.”

-

Benji couldn’t understand how a box of clothes could be so heavy. By the time he had loaded three junior girls’ boxes onto his flatbed cart, his arms felt like they where about to fall off…and he had to do stuff like this until two in the morning. That gave him three hours’ sleep before having to start everyone’s day. He’d manage somehow, but just how was still hidden from him.

With a final grunt, Benji dropped the third box onto the cart and rubbed his arms. He’d need a truck full of Tylenol by the time the night was over.

He looked around the enormous back room, only seeing one other person in the isle sixty feet away from him. For a moment he thought about speaking to him, but then shut his mouth and started to push the flatbed cart toward the main doors of the storage room. This was better than washing hair, but he’d probably miss the human contact. Maybe he could hum it off, the loneliness would help him write songs and think up the music to go along with the words.

“You’re new,” the man behind him said.

Benji stopped what he was doing and turned around. He’d most likely get in trouble for talking about non-work related things, but he decided that somewhere down the line he’d probably want someone to talk to. He didn’t want to be a loner at his new job, though most likely he’d become one anyway. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, I just heard Norton give you the welcome tour. She’s been lacking the details lately, so if you need anything just ask me.” He walked over to Benji and extended a grimy hand. “I’m Danny. It’s okay if you don’t want to shake.”

Not wanting to get his hands dirty, thereby getting the clothes filthy, Benji just stated his name.

“The first day is always the worst. Good luck,” Danny wished his coworker and went back to what he was doing: acting like Benji wasn’t there while writing things down on a clipboard.

“Thanks,” Benji said more to himself than to Danny. With all of his strength he began to push his cart toward the doors and through the store, trying not to crash into anything as he steered down the lanes. The silence was horrible, he welcomed the occasional squeak from the wheels and the random cough from someone cleaning the floors or vacuuming the carpet. The next time he saw Miss Norton he’d ask about bringing a walkman to work.

As he made his way to where he needed to be, Benji started to make a mental list of things to get the rest of his family for birthdays and Christmases—if he lasted that long at this job. He saw a lot of things that his mother would love, a jacket Sarah would die for and a few things for Joel. He sighed softly when his eyes passed over a Jack Skellington doll, something Billy would surely have a heart-attack over.

At the thought of Billy another, longer sigh escaped through Benji’s lips. In this silence he would never be able to stop thinking about Billy. He’d have all the time in the world to wade in the pond of his crush, kicking himself for doing what he did or didn’t do. It was going to eat at his heart until there was nothing left of it, though not having a heart would be a welcomed experience—no feeling meant no worry, no anger, no hurt, no sadness.

“Plus side to everything,” he muttered and turned the flatbed cart onto the lane it needed to be on. Maneuvering through the stands of panties, socks and hats with the skill of a lion walking a tightrope, Benji managed to stop the cart in front of the beginnings of a great sea of pants. Grabbing a box cutter from his left pants pocket, he cut the tape from one of the boxes and opened it with as much joy as the pre-ghost visited Mr. Scrooge on Christmas. It wasn’t that he didn’t like his new job, it was just very boring so far.

-

Billy closed his bedroom door and locked it, more out of habit than anything else. He thought he was full when he had left the restaurant, but now his stomach seemed to think his throat was cut. Ignoring his hunger, Billy trudged up the attic stairs and groaned.

The room spelt of rain. He forgot to shut his vent window before he left, though the weatherman said that it was going to be a clear night without a cloud in the sky. “Fuck them, they’re the only people in the news industry paid to be wrong.” Billy slowly walked up the remaining stairs, figuring that the smell was already imprinted in his things and rushing to close the window would help nothing if not save his sinuses a higher degree of misery.

Walking across the room to the vent window, Billy looked out to see the intensity of the falling rain before shutting the vents and leaving himself in almost complete darkness. He switched on a reading lamp beside an armchair. Frowning as he noticed Tiny Alice laid open face down on the leather, Billy quickly picked it up and placed it back in its home on the bookshelf. His day wasn’t going that smoothly anymore.

Maybe he’d get a cold so that in the morning he could miss school again, that way he didn’t have to do his homework tonight. Of course, then he’d have to do two days worth of work and that would be even less fun. Shrugging to himself, Billy made his way over to his desk and turned on the light. He pressed the “power” and “shuffle” buttons on his stereo remote, looked at a piece of notebook paper Joel had written the assignments on and set to work—occasionaly taking breaks to play air guitar to some of his favorite songs or to doodle on his desk with permanent marker. Once, unwittingly, he had drawn a cartoon version of Benji’s face. Noticing it, he had drawn the rest of the band and scribbled “Good Charlotte” underneath them and added his signature. The desk was going to be worth millions one day, he could feel it.

When he finally finished his homework Billy collected everything and stuffed it all in backpack, then threw that down the stairs for the morning. He stripped himself of everything, but his boxers and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over his head. His nose was already stuffy and his eyes hurt from all the excess moisture in the air. Surely tomorrow he was going to look like something the cat vomited up, but there was band practice tomorrow and there was no way he was going to miss it…even if Benji recoiled in horror at the sight of the other guitarist.

-

“I swear I saw a fucking cockroach in there, scurrying across the floor by the cookers,” someone behind Benji said loudly, her voice more filled with amusement than disgust. Even though it sounded like she had made up the story for attention, it was enough to make him eat his meal a whole lot slower.

Sitting at a table by himself, hunched over his dinner, Benji hadn’t said a word to anyone since his small conversation with Danny hours before. Not that he minded, he liked being by himself unless Joel was around, then the two would be glued together at the hip…though not much anymore since Billy came along.

He didn’t know whether to despise Billy or love him. Benji was second fiddle now that Joel’s new best friend was here, though his twin brother made it crystal clear that that wasn’t his intention at all. “Nothing can come between us,” Joel said adamantly. The village idiot would know that wasn’t true, which only made Benji angrier.

A smack square on his back made Benji cough convulsively, nearly choking to death on a large piece of taco. When his eyes stopped watering he was able to see Danny standing beside him, the biggest grin humanly possible adhered to the red-head’s face, those stupid freckles scrunched up to resemble hundreds of rust colored raisins on his face. “Heya, buddy!”

Benji grunted an annoyed reply.

The smile didn’t fade from the latter’s face, in fact it seemed to grow bigger. How Danny could talk through those pearly whites of his was anybody’s guess. “Everyone, we have some fresh blood with us tonight,” Danny announced cheerfully, a complete 180 from the man in the storage room with the dirty hands. Benji wanted whatever drugs this kid was taking, and soon.

Around the room people looked up from their conversations to look at the half-punk half-good Christian boy. It was almost enough to make them laugh if they didn’t know what was to come after the introductions.

“This is Benji Com—”

“Madden,” the rookie corrected coldly.

Danny’s smile faltered only slightly before resuming its sickeningly joyous intensity. “My, my, don’t you hate your name. Anyway, this is Benji Madden. He just started working here tonight. A stalker, ain’t that right?”

“Isn’t.”

“What?” The smile was gone, thank God.

Benji didn’t look away from his food. “You said ‘ain’t that right,’ it should be isn’t.”

“Grammar Nazi,” some man in the far back of the room pointed out with a huff.

“No,” Benji corrected, “but Danny’s a grown man, he should know the difference. You can play ‘Mother, can I?’ all you want, it doesn’t bother me.” He knew what was going on, it was quite obvious, but he decided to act like he didn’t know that he was going to be hazed to give them the thrill they so clearly needed.

Danny cleared his throat so that he was the center of attention again. “Since you’re new here, Benji, there’s something the newbies always have to do during their lunch break….”

“Mhm,” Benji said absentmindedly, finishing off his third taco and starting on his cinnamon twists.

About to put his hand on his coworker’s shoulder, Danny grinned that grin again. “It’s nothing huge—”

“Touch me and I’ll snap your neck like it’s a toothpick. Don’t think I won’t do it because I will,” Benji stated calmly and brushed Danny’s hand away.

Afraid, but trying not to show it, Danny laughed shakily. “Yes, but—”

“Look.” Benji wiped his hands on a napkin and stood up to address the people in the room, clinking his rings against the table like his hands were bored for a good killing for good measure. “I’m only here to make money, just like everyone else only I’m not going to be spending the money on cigarettes, booze, whores or a nice teddie lingerie for the spouse. Stay away from me and I’ll gladly stay away from you.” Grabbing his soda and the rest of his cinnamon twists, Benji left the break room and made for the strip mall to finish his meal in peace.