In-between Towns

Cody had just turned 19, which was a meaningless age to him considering he still couldn’t legally drink, but he could continue his cigarette habit and was viewed as the in-between of adulthood and teenager. But unlike other nineteen-year-olds, Cody was also recently responsible for being his mom’s sole caretaker, after their POS dad walked out on them the minute his mom’s diagnosis reached stage 4.

To make ends meet, Cody had worked mostly oddball jobs: janitor at a local grocery store, line cook at their corner’s fast-food joint, even drove around pizza deliveries for a while too. But it became clear that Cody’s mom needed care throughout the day, meaning Cody had to become a worker of the night.

Dash Stop was about 17 miles south of them, in between their town and the next, being isolated in no-man's land for the truckers and whoever else to stop by and refuel. It wasn’t Cody’s ideal spot to work, but it was the only place around them in their small town that had a night shift, which allowed him more time throughout the day to take care of his mom.

Pacing down the hallway, pointing to each of the doors on either side of the path, “and this is the supply closet which we keep locked. We only unlock it for when it’s needed” the store manager, Bud, told Cody as he placed the key in the top drawer of the manager’s desk in the back room. Cody noticed that Bud didn’t unlock the door to show inside but assumed it was the usual mop and bucket and other cleaning solutions. Bud turned around after the semi-in-depth tour of the station, “any questions?”

Cody looked around, as if a question would be written somewhere on a shelf for him but shook his head. Bud clapped his hands together and turned towards the front counter, grabbing his keys and baseball cap. As he pushed the door open, he slowly turned around to Cody, who was now behind the counter, checked the time on the clock behind the cigarette wall and said, “oh and Cody, one more thing.” Bud removed his cap and pushed his fingers through his greasy blonde hair and put the cap back on. “There’s some weird people who come in at night. Um, like questionable. If you happen to meet one of these people, there’s a gun in the safe behind the counter, under you. The code to the safe is 3109.”

Cody was stunned as his body felt like it was falling through itself. Weird people? A gun? Cody cleared his throat as he could feel the look of confusion on his face, his cheeks flushed, “what kind of weird people and why would I need to shoot them?” The end of the question came out as a whisper.

Bud walked back into the door, making sure it closed behind him and looked around, as if someone had been in the station the whole time hiding. Bud’s demeanor got tense as he said, “Look kid, there might be someone that walks through this door tonight who’s not who they say they are. Always check their ID, no matter what, for anything, okay? Stay on guard. And yeah, if someone is…if someone seems like they’re real, shoot em’. The cameras in here don’t work anyway.”

That last sentence sliced open Cody, letting sheer fear leak out of him. He tried to not show his shaking as he nodded to Bud, “okay,” was all he could muster back. Bud continued out the front door, bell overtop ringing, as he left the station and drove away. Cody looked at the clock behind him which read 7:30pm. The sun halfway set through the sky. Dusk.

He looked around the store, still in pure shock and horrified at Bud’s words. He wanted to hide behind the counter and stare at the safe all night to protect himself, but he knew that wasn’t an option. So, to distract himself, he took a box from the back to restock the chip and nut shelf.

Ding, Ding. Cody looked at the clock, 8:59pm, and looked towards the front doors, seeing if he could identify the potential threat who just walked in.

“Hi Cody!” the man who just walked in snuck up behind Cody and nearly scared him out of his boots. The sheriff laughed and put his hands out, as if to catch Cody from falling. “Didn’t mean to scare you, boy,” still chuckling. Cody put his hand over his heart, still beating ramped.

Cody and the Sheriff knew each other well actually. Sheriff Dan was a friend of his parents and had been a silent leader in keeping Cody out of trouble in his youth.

“Sorry, I’m just…it’s my first day,” trying to laugh out his jumpiness. Cody moved the empty box to behind the counter to break down later and watched Sheriff Dan walk around the store. Two energy drinks, a small canister of nuts, a pack of gum, and a lighter – his usual. He dropped everything onto the counter as Cody picked up each one to scan.

“First night, huh?” Sheriff Dan asked as Cody nodded. “Well, you got every damn right to be jumpy, boy.” Cody paused his scanning to reluctantly look at him. Sheriff Dan continued, “I’m sure Bud already gave you the lowdown, but watch out for these parts. We’re in between towns and there’s nothing out here,” as his right hand gestured to the outside world beyond the front doors.

Cody looked back down to resume scanning and asked, “watch out for who?”

“Not who, but what. You know how to use that pistol behind there?” Cody finished scanning everything and looked at Dan, nodding his head slowly as if he might get in trouble for knowing how to use a gun at his age, but Dan just showed relief at that. He nodded his head back to him and grabbed his bag of treats. As Cody was about to ask how the Sheriff knew about the gun, he was already halfway through the door, he looked back at Cody and said, “Remember my order Cody, and don’t be scared, the cameras in here don’t work,” then winked at Cody and stalked out to his truck on pump two.

Ding, Ding. Cody looked at the clock, 10:43pm, and looked towards the front doors, seeing if he could see who else had entered the station as he hid back by the manager’s office.

Cody stayed behind the counter, breaking down the box he had earlier, making his presence known to whoever was in there with him. A woman, very raggedy and greasy looking, short and boney, was walking through the aisles, appearing to be looking for something specific. She yelled out to Cody, not bothering moving from her place, still searching the racks, “do you have any of those yellow square candies?” Not wanting to move from his spot either, he craned his neck out long trying to look at the candy selection from over the counter. “No, I don’t think so. If we did, they would be there,” Cody stated, hoping that was true.

The woman cursed several words under her stained, raspy voice and moved to the next aisle, grabbing an air freshener and a bag of spicy chips instead. She limped over to the front counter and practically threw everything down in front of him.

Cody cleared his throat, still too scared to make eye contact with the patron, “can I see your ID please.”

“My what?”

“Your ID, I need to see it. It’s company policy.” Cody’s voice was shaking and knew that she could hear him trembling as well.

“I’m not buying anything with age limits here,” she retaliated. Cody finally looked up at her. Her hair was greasier than from afar, each strand sticking together in clumps. And her face was dried out, flaking and peeling in spots. Her brown eyes had crusted in the corners and were bloodshot red and dry. He tried not to cringe as he said, “I know, but I have to.” He then pointed to the camera that was above him on the wall, as if telling her that they were being recorded – she didn’t need to know otherwise.

She cursed more words under her breath and stiffly took out her ID and slammed it down on the counter.

Name: Mandy Jones

DOB: 03/21/1987

Eyes: Green

The picture on her ID was clearly taken years ago. She looked younger, cleaner, and it actually looked like she was trying to smile in the photo. He looked back up at her and slid the ID back. She snatched it up and grumbled some more, taking her bag of items with her.

Neither of them said anything as she hastily exited the station and turned the corner to where her car must’ve been parked. Soon after, hearing scattering up on the roof. 

Ding, Ding. Cody looked at the clock, 12:01am, and looked up to the front doors from behind the counter, sitting on a bucket behind the register, to see who had walked in.

A tall man with a dark wool trench coat and a black top hat strode in, headed towards the drinks on the back wall. Cody stood up from his makeshift bucket chair and leaned his hip on the counter, as he watched the old-timey man look through the fridges’ windows. As the man walked between aisles, Cody could see that the man was wearing pressed trousers and a fitted buttoned-up vest underneath the trenchcoat, and a silver pocket watch dangling from his right hip.

The man swaggered over to the register and gently set his canned alcoholic iced tea down on the counter.

Cody’s anxiety swelled up inside him as he was forced to ask for the man’s ID, but at least the alcohol was reason enough. However, without a word, the man opened his left trench coat flap and pulled out a leather wallet from inside the breasted pocket and handed Cody his ID directly.

He's never seen an ID like this before, definitely not from their area. Cody finally looked up at him and saw the man's thin, black mustache, thick bushy eyebrows, and long eyelashes that were shadowed by his top hat. The man’s skin was bright and youthful, and looked like he was only a couple years older than Cody himself.

Name: John Gilbert

DOB: 07/10/1897

Eyes: Brown

What the f -

“Did you find everything okay?” Cody cleared his throat and asked, but the man still did not speak. Only nodded curtly back in confirmation.

The anxiety swelled up again in his center body as he handed the man his ID back. He knew...Cody knew that this is the type of person Bud was referring to. The man gently grabbed it out of Cody’s hand and slid it back into his leather wallet, then back into his inside breast pocket.

Cody quickly glanced down at the safe, knowing what might have to happen. Thinking on his feet, Cody told the man he was reaching down to grab his receipt as he carefully and quietly unlocked the safe.

The safe clicked open and the man started to run, as if knowing what was happening, and Cody quickly grabbed the gun, unlocked the safety, closed his eyes, held his breath, and shot two times towards the man in the trenchcoat.

Shaking. Cody was uncontrollably shaking as he dropped the gun on the floor at his feet. He finally opened his eyes and saw purple, sparkling goo splattered on everything; the front doors, along the register counter, the shelves near the front, the floor. He quickly flipped the bucket he had been sitting on and got sick multiple times in it as he processed what just happened, processing what he saw afterwards. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, rubbing his hand on his worn-out jeans, and unsteadily stood up. He looked around the space again, confirming what he's seeing is the purple, sparkling goo covering everything.

What the fu-

Cody, struggling to walk with his legs like noodles from the shock, managed to get the key from the manager’s desk drawer in the back room. He could barely unlock the supply closet, dropping the keys as the door creaked open and saw normal and abnormal cleaning supplies.

There was a push mop, wash bucket, bag of rags and a gallon bottle with light green liquid. The label read, “Dopple-Remover” in bright big letters and underneath in smaller wording said, “removes even the toughest other-worldly specimens!” Cody blinked, looked back at the mess that was once a man from the roaring 20s and back to the bottle, trying to grasp onto reality.

What the –

After scrubbing the floors with every arm muscle Cody had left in him, he dumped the bucket out off the front curb and wheeled back the mop and bucket into the closet, next to the “Dopple-Remover” solution and locked the door. He removed the collar of his shirt from over his face covering his nose and mouth and took several deep breaths. He threw the bucket he got sick in straight into the dumpster and resumed his post leaning behind the register counter, trying to recollect himself.

Cody looked at the clock. 4:17am. He heard a car door slam from around the corner of the building and whistling approaching. He closed his eyes tightly, wishing that whoever was approaching would just walk away.

Ding, Ding. Bud walked through the doors and Cody’s body practically melted onto the floor with relief and small tears in his eyes.

“Morning, kid,” Bud said chipperly and waved over his head towards Cody as he walked straight down the hallway and into the back office of his. He could hear Bud putting down his things, reorganizing his desk and turning on the computer.

Bud opened and closed the top drawer of his desk and yelled from down the hall, “how was it?”

Cody hesitated, debating if he should tell him the truth or not or just throw up again. Instead, Cody said, “it was alright.”

Bud paused, a too long pause before clapping his hands together, “good to hear!” He walked out to the center of the floor, right where all the sticky goo was hours before and let him know that a soda delivery would be here soon, but he didn’t need to stay for the restocking.

Cody quickly tried gathering his things behind the counter and walked down the hall to grab his coat when he heard the sound of the front door bells again. 

Ding, Ding. Cody instinctively snatched his jacket and turned around to see who was there. The sun was barely creeping up over the horizon, soon to let some normalcy back into the station.

“Hey Sheriff Dan,” Bud casually called out and Cody could hear Sheriff Dan greeting him back. They made casual conversation about the insane gas prices and even higher cigarette prices and apparently that’s why the Sheriff quit smoking months ago, as he walked around the store gathering his usual items.

Bud was behind the counter, ringing in Sheriff Dan’s order as Cody was standing in the front, joining in on their morning conversation.

After ringing in his two energy drinks, a small canister of nuts, and one pack of gum, Sheriff Dan passed his ID over to Bud without question, scanned it, scanned his order, and gave the Sheriff back his ID like routine. Upon leaving, Sheriff Dan gave both Bud and Cody waves goodbye and headed out to his truck on the first pump.

“You forgot his lighter,” Cody said to Bud half-jokingly. Bud looked confused at him, so he further explained, “Sheriff Dan came in last night and told me to remember his order. He had a lighter and just now he didn’t.” Bud slowly blinked at him...thinking. 

“Did you scan his ID?” Bud asked pointedly. Cody looked at him confused, considering that was the Sheriff and he grew up with him. Honestly more of a father-figure than his own dad. 

When Cody didn’t answer right away, Bud reiterated, “We have to scan everyone’s ID. I hope you did last night.” Bud slightly scoffed and looked at Cody hoping that he did. “Plus, Dan doesn’t smoke, he doesn’t buy lighters anymore.” He walked to the back, opening the shipping door for the delivery driver and yelled to Cody before he left, “Thanks for cleaning up by the way, it looks nice in here!”

Cody didn’t respond as he finished his shift, walked to his car, and never returned.