Scars

You see a flash of red light fly past your eyes so quickly that you have a moment of vertigo. Then there's a white light, and another red one, and suddenly you're blinded by the brightness of the sun through your window as your bus emerges from the northbound tunnel. Every morning you ride this bus to work, and every morning you are reminded of how much you hate it. [[You sigh. -> 2]]

You press your forehead against the glass, relishing the sheer cold of it and the sensation of obscurity resulting from the slow fog that creeps along the surface. It's time for your stop. [[You pull the lever. ->3]]

After a moment, the bus screeches to a halt. Knowing that the other passengers have somewhere to be and won't be willing to spend much time for the sake of your ennui, you peel yourself from the seat and quickly walk to the door, acutely aware of the deliberate, resonating tapping of your rubber-soled work shoes against the filthy rubber floor mats. [[You head towards work. -> 4]]

You round the corner, having navigated the liminal space between the building and its neighbor in order to avoid walking across the parking lot. You are confronted with the huge, modern "Livingscapes" sign, practically dripping in bright orange paint meant to grab the attention of drivers at stoplights, or perhaps exotic birds. You're not sure why either would be interested in coming to a furniture store on a whim. But then again, you aren't a marketing professional. After coming to terms with the sign, you notice something [[a bit more out of the ordinary. -> 5]]

A handful of your coworkers are standing in a semi-circle, facing away from you. You notice Joseph and Seth, who you never really liked, standing next to Howard, who you thought was on vacation, and Gillian, who you would have expected to be avoiding any sort of drama. They all seem to be facing the outer wall of the building, where Jonas, the newest employee, is crouching down like a caged, frightened animal. Joseph is holding a knife. You immediately recognize what is happening, but you decide to ask anyway. [[Gillian -> 6]] or [[Howard ->7]] would be the best people to prod.

You approach Gillian, who is looking at Jonas like you would expect her to look at her son after he shoved a used piece of gum into his mouth. "What's going on?" you ask. "Jonas sold that ugly chaise that Fiona has been wanting us to get rid of forever," she says. You are certain that there is more to the story than that, so you wait for Gillian to inevitably finish it. "But the poor fella lied about it. He said that the designer is well-renowned, that it was going to last forever, and that it was a steal for the price. The sap bought the chaise, but not before bragging about its amazing qualities to Joseph on his way out. So, [[he's getting marked -> 9]].

You walk up to Howard, who at this moment seems to be finishing up a giggling fit. "What's going on?" you ask. "Nina, you didn't hear?" he retorts. You resist the urge to point out the out the obvious and say that you wouldn't be asking questions you already knew the answer to. "Oh, I forgot," he continues regardless, "you don't work on Mondays. Little Jonas here sold that ratty old fuscia chaise that had been sitting on the floor for a year! Isn't that great?" You detect a grain of sarcasm. You find it odd that Jonas is getting punished for accomplishing such a feat, but you're sure Howard knows that. "As it turns out," Howard says, certain that you are on the edge of your seat in anticipation of what happened next, "he had told the buyer that it was an amazing piece of furniture, and that it and similar models were flying off the floor. That it was a steal!" At this, Howard suppresses another giggle. "Just as the guy was leaving the store, Joseph heard about it. And now [[he's going to learn -> 9]] that we take lying to customers very seriously. As we should!"

You had figured as much. Still, you can't help but feel bad for him as Joseph wiggles the knife in his face, taunting him. You are tempted to think that Fiona had planned this: her booming voice demanding the sale of an unsellable piece of furniture, a new sales representative, and the tempting, naive possibility of a few white lies passing by without notice. A recipe for disaster, in Jonas's case. Joseph rolls up Jonas's left sleeve, and you see that it's already criss-crossed with many previous mistakes. An unsurprising amount, considering his age and background. You selfconciously finger one of the scars underneath your overzealous early-winter coat, [[remembering your first mistake ->10]] on the job. **********

********** The gravel readily crunches first under your brother's car tires, then your feet as you pull into the parking lot at Speedster Stop gas station and conveninece store. Your logo-bearing shirt - freshly washed and still vibrant with color - is proudly on your back. You remember the brief instruction to your tasks that you were given just the day before, are are ready to put them into action. The door-triggered bell dings pleasantly as you enter the station. Your boss is already there, standing behind the counter, his head propped up lazily by his hand. "Hey, Nina," he says. He quickly recaps everything that you have to do, and then informs you that he has some things to take care of in the back, leaving you to your trial by fire. It doesn't take long for customers to start filing in. You hear the door ding, and say "hello" more enthusiastically than the customer seemed to be prepared for this early in the morning. They pick up a bag of chips and an energy drink, then head to the counter. You [[ring the items up ->11]].

The total for your first transaction at your first job is $4.23. You happily take their money before wishing them a good rest of their day. Soon after, another customer enters with a young kid. They go straight to the counter. She looks at you and says, "Can I have a pack of Mega Menthol Bolds please? Oh, and can my son use your bathroom?" You can't help but notice the kid's silence and the extensively marked skin visible on both of his arms. You struggle to find what to say. You think the bathrooms are for employees only, but you also think that's a silly rule. You are also fairly certain there are restrictions on how you are supposed to sell cigarettes to people with kids, but you can't remember. "Umm... [["...Yes?" ->12]] [["...No?" ->13]]

"...Yes?" "Oh, thank you," the woman says, pointing her son to the back. Meanwhile, you retrieve the cigarettes and finish the transaction. Just as her son is finishing up, your boss comes out from the back. He sees the kid leaving the bathroom, and turns beet red. The woman leaves, but you really wish she had stayed. Your boss, fuming, [[retrieves a knife ->14]] from a drawer under the counter.

"...No?" "What?" she says. "You have got to be kidding me." You start to try and clarify, but the woman is already on a rampage. She must have been having a bad day, and decided that you were going to, too. "You are refusing to do business with me? Who do you think you are? I want to talk to your manager!" She squawks, in a loud enough voice that your boss does, in fact, emerge. "This brat," the woman begins, "said that she can't sell cigarettes to me. She should be punished." Your boss looks at you and raises an eyebrow. "Did you say that?" he asks. [["Yes...I did." -> 15]] [["No! Why would I say that?" -> 16]]

Your boss moves towards you. You step back, but hit the counter. "Sorry Nina, but you can't lie to customers. You know how it is." "But-but I didn't!" You try to say, but he pushes up against you, securing your arm and rolling up your sleeve. You start to tremble with fear. When your arm is revealed, your boss' eyes widen in surprise. "Wow," he says, "I don't think there's been an arm this clean since Jesus. Just two scars! Hah. Makes me wonder why you would start lying about something so stupid now. Getting caught, at least, must be pretty new to you." You close your eyes. The blade slips across your arm and you hear a small splatter on the counter. You try not to sob. [[The next day, you quit. ->17]] **********

"Yes...I did." You suppose that, technically, you did at least imply what the customer was suggesting. However, you don't think that it would be up for debate, anyway. "The customer is always right" and all that. "That's right," the woman says, "and you need to teach her that this sort of behavior is unacceptable! My children have been raised better than this! I can't believe that I have to deal with this disrespect, and by someone so young! If you don't reign in your employees I'll..." While the woman rants and raves about your aparently unforgivable behavior, your boss opens a drawer under the counter. [[He pulls out a knife ->14]].

"No! Why would I say that?" "LIES!" The woman screeches. "Do you have such little respect for the society that you live in? You must be punished for such blatant transgressions! I can't believe that I have to deal with this disrespect, and by someone so young! If you don't reign in your employees I'll..." While the woman rants and raves about your aparently unforgivable behavior, your boss opens a drawer under the counter. [[He pulls out a knife ->14]].

********** Jonas, expressionless, stands with his right hand over his new cut before piercing through the group to head to the employee rest area in search of the cut kit. He takes the knife with him. You follow him inside, having wasted plenty of time already. Joseph and Howard stay outside, snickering, but the rest of them come inside shortly. Once inside, you realize why so many of them had decided to take a break to make an example of Jonas: there is almost no one here. In fact, there is just one customer, and Farah, the one employee who had stayed inside, is showing her an extremely fascinating series of glass-fronted cabinets. You head to the employee rest area and clock in before immediately turning back to the show floor. You figure that you have some time before buisness picks up. You could spend this time [[inspecting inventory, ->18]] [[catching up with Jonas, ->19]] or [[cleaning display furniture. ->20]].

You decide to look around and see how the store inventory has changed since you were here on Saturday. Your first instinct is to check out the living room furniture section, since that's where a lot of inventory movement happens with a few notable exceptions. But, sure enough, you see an awkwardly-shaped rectangle space in the floor that is curiously whiter than the surrounding tiling. It's where the chaise used to be: right at the front of the section, with the most eyes on it possible. The employees of Livingscapes had been trying to get rid of it for ages, but it felt strange now that it was finally gone. Curiously, no one had rearranged the other nerby chaises and ottomans to fill the space in a way that made sense. So, you do so, pulling forward an overpriced faux-leather sectional piece. You wipe off your hands, pleased with your work. A few other notable pieces have been sold from sections across the store, but it doesn't take you long to re-familiarize yourself with what is available. You should be able to provide customers with answers about stock, and have gained a few ideas about specific pieces to pitch. [[You move on. ->21]]

You decide to see how Jonas is holding up. Once again, you return to the employee rest area, where he is still nursing his cut, trying to place some tape over a piece of gauze. You sit down next to him on the outdated floor model couch and offer to help. "Thanks," he says as you stretch the medical tape with precision. "That was quite the welcoming ceremony," you joke, trying to take his mind off of things. He ignores it. "I'm so fucking stupid." He rubs the space between his eyebrows aggressively with his palm. "Somehow I thought I would get away with it. Lying. And even if I did, I should know better than to think it's okay." He pauses. "How do you do it?" "Do what?" you ask. "Stay so... clean." You look away from him and down at your feet. The tape spool is still in your hand, and you find yourself fiddling with it. Noticing the reaction his comment caused, Jonas apologizes. "I'm sorry. Howard told me, but I know it's none of my business." You accept his apology, but are bothered by it nonetheless. For some, their scars are marks of pride, but for you, even the meager three are badges of shame. [[You head back to work. ->21]]

You decide to be productive, and grab the handheld vaccuum on your way back to the floor. The most obvious thing to clean would be the carpets in the living room displays, so instead you go to the dining section and vaccuum the displays there instead. Eventually, though, you make your way to the bedroom section, wiping down counters on the way. Joseph is there, sitting idly on a mattress top and looking at his phone. "Hey, Joseph," you say, half in greeting and half to get his attention. You hope he moves, since the space under his feet is in need of cleaning. "Nina," he enunciates, in a way that suggests he has some authority over the conversation. "How's it going?" "Fine," you say, "just trying to get some cleaning done before the rush starts, you know." "Huh," Joseph says, frankly. He stays put, green eyes returning to the small screen. Typing idly as he stands, Joseph mumbles, "don't think we won't catch you, Nina. Not everyone has as much faith in your pretty arms as Fiona does." Before you have the chance to retort, he's gone. You are used to such comments, so you decide to ignore it and [[finish up your cleaning. ->21]]

Just as you finish up, you see first one family, then two, then a few individuals walk through the sliding double doors at the front of the store. You always thought it was strange, how they seemed to show up in packs. You walk up to a young couple, who immediately dismiss your help. Afterwards, you help an older man who is here to pick up a very specific end table. Once the end-table-guy is gone, you are approached by Fiona, who is holding her office phone in one hand. "Nina," she says, "I've got a call for you. It's some guy, he says it's important." You take the phone from Fiona, thanking her. However, you're surprised: it's rare to get calls at work like this. "Hello?" you inquire to the device. "Nina," it says back, "it's Seb." You're taken aback. "Seb? What? Why are you calling me here? You could have texted me, or... Seb, I'm at work. It better be important." "First of all," your brother says, "I did try and call your cell first but you didn't answer, as usual..." You quickly check, and sure enough, you have three missed calls, all from Sebastian. It must have [[been on silent. ->22]]

"...and secondly, it IS important. I need your help. Specifically, I need to stay at your place for a few days." You can't believe it. Your brother, whom you haven't talked to in nearly a year, has finally come home. And yet, somehow you aren't very excited to hear it. You wonder what Dad will think. "I..." you say, at a loss for any other words. "Nina, I know. Just... please. I don't want to keep you from work any longer than I have to." You sigh, making sure that Seb can hear it through the phone. "Fine," you concede, "but I have to go. You better have a good reason for this." You don't wait for his response, [[and hang up. ->23]]

You walk to Fiona's office to return the phone. "Are you okay?" she asks as you walk in. "You look like you've seen a ghost." [[(Lie) "Yeah. I'm fine." ->24]] [[(Truth) "Not really." -> 25]]

"Yeah. I'm fine." You're not. And, based on the look on your face, Fiona probably knows you're not. It's been a long time since you've been Sebastian's baby sister, attached to his hip and part of all his shenanigans. He left, and you missed him, but if Dad had anything to say about it, he wasn't part of the family any more. First you thought about him. And then you thought about his scars.

"Not really. And, truthfully, I think I might have." It's been a long time since you've been Sebastian's baby sister, attached to his hip and part of all his shenanigans. He left, and you missed him, but if Dad had anything to say about it, he wasn't part of the family any more. First you thought about him. And then you thought about his scars.