Night Shift

Chapter 2

The store was named The Myriad ("Your one stop for all your grocery needs!"). It was placed right by one of the city's entries, about a stone's throw from the large mining site that resided next to the highway.

It was a lot smaller than I expected. I was thinking actual supermarket, but it was much more of a convenient store size, give or take a few square metres. Calling it The Myriad was a bit ambitious.

Susan was slouching on a chair behind the register, eyes darting back and forth while she read a News Weekly magazine. She didn't stir when I entered and the entry bell rang. I stood by the counter staring at her.

At first glance I knew she wasn't a happy woman. Bitterness was all over her face, taking in the form of skin cancers and wrinkles and poorly applied makeup. She had a scowl on her face, and from that point till forevermore it would remain that way.

I gave her a minute before I decided to say something.

"Hello?"

Susan looked up at me from her magazine. Her eyes were large and dark brown.

"You the kid?" she asked.

I nodded.

She placed the magazine on the ground next to her in an exaggerated motion – she needed me to know that I inconvenienced her by showing up for my job.

"Follow me."

I wasn't aware of how nervous I was until I started to follow in Susan's wake. I was starting the training process of my first ever job. I had to take in what I'm sure would be countless responsibilities.

She took me out back first, where all the stock was kept. It wasn't anything big. A couple of chest freezers along the side of one wall, some shelves that didn't hold much on another wall. There was a door on the far left of the stock room that led to the cold room. Again, not a whole lot was stocked in there either, a couple of cartons of soft drinks and water bottles.

"It's an easy gig here," Susan said. She sounded almost ashamed; was I making a face that looked disgusted? I didn't mean to. I wasn't disgusted.

"You won't meet a lot of people at night – a couple of drunks, some stoners, late night truck drivers. In fact, we don't really see a lot of people at all, even during the weekends. I never saw any point in ordering a lot if we aren't going to sell much."

She looked around the cold room for a second, her wide eyes reflecting the light. They looked glassy for a second. She then blinked, took a deep breath and slammed the door shut. "Keep coming along."

She took me into the kitchen, which was directly behind where the register was placed.

"Our most popular products are the hot items that we place in the hot box. Spring rolls, hot chips, deep fried dim-sums, they are to be constantly topped up throughout the night. If they're not, customers won't even stay here for a second longer. It is vital that we keep on top of this. Clear?"

I nodded.

She showed me the deep fryer and where the hot food was stored, and then told me where the cleaning products are kept, which were under the sink. Hanging up on a wall was a whiteboard with a marker magnetised to it. All that was written on the board was a phone number. I assumed it was Susan's.

"It's not a big store, as you may have noticed. Which means I expect the store to be completely spotless by the time I come back to count the money in the morning. You have all night to get it done, and you most certainly won't be busy dealing with customers. No excuses. Clear?"

Again, I nodded.

She showed me around the store – which was basically a couple of fridges that held the soft drink, water and milk, as well as a few shelves lined with just as much as she could cram. Cereal, note pads, stationary items, kitchenware, medicine, house appliances. It was crammed, but I admired the orderliness of it all. Everything had a place, almost like Tetris.

"These items don't sell much. Some have been sitting on these shelves for years, but they're still good to buy if a customer ever wants one. Don't think about taking one for yourself, I do stocktake once a month and if an item is even so much as an inch out of place, I will accuse you of attempted theft and you best believe that the very next thing I do is write up your letter of dismissal. Clear?"

"Sure thing." I had to add in a bit of variety to these otherwise pointless responses.

"Then that leaves us with one thing."

She showed me the till.

"It's not touch screen. I don't want to see any finger marks on the screen. Just use the mouse to help with your transactions."

She showed me how to process the hot box items, as well as how to operate the scanner ("If you can't hold an item in front of this black box then you're a special kind of stupid," she scoffed).

"There's not really a whole lot else to cover," she said. "Just make sure the store stays clean and the food is replenished when needed."

I gave another nod. What else is there really to say?

"Oh, I should preface this by saying that never in my twenty years of working here has it ever happened, but if you ever do run into someone that is threatening to harm you in anyway, give them a good whack over the head with this hockey stick."

She pointed to a battered, barely staying intact, hockey stick that was resting against the cigarette cabinet.

"Once you are safe to do so, you call me first, and then the police. Not the other way around. I want to get my hands on the sucker before any authority comes in and takes that pleasure away from me. Clear?"

"Clear," I said.

"Your relief will be here at 6AM to take over from you. I'll be here a little earlier to check in on you and to also count the money. If you run into any problems my number is written on the whiteboard in the kitchen. Don't worry about waking me up or that you're being an inconvenience, I never sleep and I never go out anywhere."

And without even so much as a second glance she was out the door, the entry bell ringing obnoxiously.

I sat down in the same chair that she was in just before. She left her magazine behind. She probably didn't care for it, it must have been a little escape from whatever life she's unhappily leading.

After a few minutes of silence and sitting, I walked around the store, counting the security cameras (twelve), as well as looking for any potential dirty areas that might need cleaning (there were none).

I then walked outside, the bell ringing behind me. I walked out into the middle of the road and looked to the left of me and then to the right. The road stretching out from my right leads you out of the city, into what looked like a dark void. The lights from the mines stop by this point. The road that takes you out to the dark void doesn't provide many streetlights, to really enhance the feeling of nothingness.

By day the highway was the busiest road in this part of the state, but now there was nothing.

In front of me was the mines. Tall stacks towered over the small city, spewing out pollution, giving the workers led poisoning that will eventually take their lives.

Lights from the different buildings peppered across the horizon, the site stretching far away to my left, almost never ending. The mines were the only thing that showed signs of life in this city at night.

Other than that, it felt like I was completely alone.