The Moon Shift

Stanley stood behind the counter—his name tag glistened in the orange sunset. A portable hologram T.V. softly played a black and white soap opera from the ancient era. Something about six “friends” on Old Earth. The big boss didn’t seem to care about the television, as Stanley had been there as long as he could remember. This would be his eightieth anniversary of working at the Golden Ring Mart, a convenience store and gas station in the rings of Saturn. Not nearly as glamorous as it used to be, the “ring” is now a collection of orbiting trash from around the greater galaxy.

The sliding glass door slid open with a “ding” and some precious air conditioning wafted into the parking lot. An Earthling stepped onto the mart’s welcome mat. She looked about twenty and had short blue hair. A fashionable stud adorned her freckled nose, which sparkled under the fluorescent lights.

“Hello, I’m here to take over the night shift—or moon shift—as you guys on Saturn call it. I’m Zara, and I’ll be spending the summer here from Earth. Nice to meet you.” She shifted her backpack and extended a hand to shake. This was not quite done in these parts of the solar system, but Stanley had been around the block once or twice and knew his way around human interactions. He shook way too hard over the counter, just how Earthlings like it.

“My name is Stanley. The pleasure is all mine, young lady. Welcome to the Golden Ring Mart—or GRM as the cool kids call it these days.” He shook her arm up and down.

The back room flew open, and a slimy and amphibious frog-man waddled out. The door slammed and all the employees of the month photos rattled on the wall. They were all of Stanley.

“Hey—you! You two!” Everyone in the store froze. “This isn’t a library—stop reading all the comics!” Mr. Arnold reprimanded the entire store. He returned to his office, slamming the door shut.

The teens in the magazine aisle looked down and went back to thumbing through Karate Katapillars #4.

Stanley turned back to Zara and shrugged. 

“Great, so you’re training me, right? Where should we start?” She said, donning her name tag and silver vest. 

The sun was down, and all two hundred ninety-three moons dotted the sky. It was dead for the first hour of the moon shift when a man from Mercury came in completely on fire. The flames danced and flickered around his body but didn’t seem to catch any magazines or stray candy wrappers.

“Yellow there,” engulfed as he approached the counter. “I’ll take a pack of cigarettes and a lottery ticket.”

“Great, coming right up.” Stanley slicked his white hair and rubbed his hands together. “First customer of the night, first lesson, Zara. I’ll show you how to count the bucks in the drawer.”

After slowly counting out the change in metal coins and gems, he deposited them in the flaming hand. “You know, paper bills catch on fire,” he wagged a finger at the young lady and smiled.

“Got it,” she said. “What else do I need to know?”

“Ah, the most important thing in the store,” Stanley realized, slapping his hands together.

“Now, Ms. Zara, spinning on the left we have cherry, blue in the middle is raspberry and on the right, this glowing green one is sludgie. It’s our most popular item. It’s toxic, about as acidic as a car battery, and tastes like lemon-lime.” He poured a silver plastic cup full of green slime, and it fizzed and sparked as he handed it to Zara.

“Hm, I just ate before coming here,” she lied. “Plus, you know, I get ulcers easily.” Zara added.

He shrugged and downed the frosty green drink.

Burp. “Excuse me, now where were we? Oh no.” He shook his head. “Brain freeze. One second.” He pinched his temples and closed his eyes. “Okay, where were we?”

A low rumble shook the convenience store. A small metal container crashed through the ceiling and landed with a deafening explosion in a pile of rubble, smashing a crater into the floor of one of the aisles. The dust settled as everyone nearby coughed from all the debris. Customers stared at the space junk that had rudely interrupted their evening. The clerks looked on in silence as the cloud parted. Stanley checked to see if Zara had injured anything while Mr. Arnold rushed out of his office.

“What in the ribbit is going on here?!” he balked at the devastation in aisle two.

“Oh no, more space trash flying through the roof. This neighborhood is really going downhill. Stanley, get this cleaned up as soon as possible. I’m going home for the evening. Sweetie made a fly casserole and is expecting me. You know how she gets.” Mr. Arnold put on his fedora and stepped past the mess. He hopped out to his flying car waiting for him in the parking lot. The big boss waved and bared a fake smile to some regulars filling their UFO with gas before taking off.

Now, Stanley had read enough books to know that this wasn’t just some chunk of metal. It wasn’t space junk that no one wanted. According to “Treasure Island” and countless other novels, this was a safe and probably filled with, well, space treasures.

“You see, newbie, this is a safe.” Stanley explained to Zara.

“Wow,” she looked bewildered, “it looks like trash. Should we throw it out?”

“No!” Stanley protected the newfound cube. “There could be rare jewels or a sweater made by hand in there!” He attempted to pry it open, but it was stuck shut. They tried every combination. They kicked it and banged on it with sticks and brooms. Nothing.

“Quick, let’s get it behind the counter,” Stanley led the way, realizing they had to return to work. Both their backs cracked as they lifted the cube of heavy silver and black metal.

As they heaved it under the counter, the door “dinged” and slid open. In strutted Gorgona, an eight-foot-tall ogre with one eye from Jupiter. Her best feature is her ponytail, she would say if you asked her. She’s a regular on Tuesdays when she comes in for a taquito and sludgie after dance squad. Her t-shirt today was pink and said “Awesome.”

“Hey, Mr. Stanley,” she pulled the silver handle and poured a frosty green beverage. She took a quick sip, then added some more. “What’s with the weird box behind the counter?” 

Stanley turned red and explained himself. “It’s, well, the hole in the ceiling there is from...”

“Hello there! I’m Gorgona!” She was more interested in the new hire. “Wow, I’ve seriously known Stanley since, like, I was born. It’s so nice to meet you, Zara,” Gorgona squinted at the silver and red name tag.

Gorgona couldn’t care less about the precious cargo and paid for the sludgie. “Stay out of trouble, you two,” she tried to wink with her one eye before strolling over to the magazines to read Mall Madness Tween Edition.

She scoffed at the absolutely ridiculous notions they call fashion “tips” these days on page seventy.

The teens reading comics lowered Ninja Gnats #7 long enough to scan the store. 

Mr. Arnold was only around for the sun shift to do the books, then left Stanley alone to run the moon shift.

“So, are you excited for retirement, Mr. Stanley? You’ve been here for ages,” Zara asked. “Sorry to pry, I just assumed I was your replacement.”

Stanley thought for a second, and then it dawned on him. He gulped at the thought of leaving forever, as he remembered he was retiring at the end of this shift. He spent all his time at work. Stanley never considered how he would spend all his free time now that he was truly free. He spent his daytime alone in his tiny apartment in the overcrowded city with his fish and cat.

“Well, what will you do? With all the time?” Zara pressed.

“I guess I’ll just keep up appearances until the end of my days,” he kept his chin up at the thought. “I may have to get a roommate when my savings run dry…” Stanley considered.

Golden Ring Mart’s automatic doors slid open with a “ding” and a group of bundled-up travelers stumbled into each other before coming in. All of them were dripping beads of sweat through their wool hoods. The air conditioning felt frigid as they fanned themselves and each other.

“Hello there!” The couple in charge of the clan peeked through their puffy and insulated jackets.

“Wow, all the way from the ice planet Neptune, eh?” Stanley said from behind the counter. 

“Newbie, do you want to take this one?” He suggested.

“Welcome to the Golden Ring Mart! How can I help you today?” Zara looked at Stanley to make sure that was sufficient. She received a thumbs-up.

“Our ice converter is on the fritz and our saucer won’t start. Got any cubes?” The leader asked.

Zara pointed to the ice machine in the back, next to the slushie maker. She smiled and shrugged, “Well, that’s easy.”

Stanley slapped her on the back, “Job well done, new hire!”

The night had drawn on, and the stars and moons twinkled outside the convenience store. All was quiet in the blackness of space. There hadn’t been a customer in a while, unless you count the two kids reading all the comics and magazines. Stanley and Zara watched an old classic on the hologram television. Gorgona was a regular around these parts and liked to hang out with the employees. She sipped her green drink and shoveled popcorn into her mouth as the monster growled and lunged at the heroine. Everyone screamed, but Stanley didn’t budge. He’s seen Frankenstein a thousand times. Zara rested her elbow on the counter and yawned.

“No, don’t come any closer.” They were all fixated on the movie, “No, stay back! Ahh!” the leading lady screeched. Her blonde hair got in her face as the monster closed in.

A shadow fell over the storefront. The trio paused the movie and looked through the large glass windows. An enormous blob slinked its way to the front door. Oozing and moaning, the mysterious mud creature had ten arms and smelled like death. It rolled on the ground and hissed and writhed as it got closer to the door. The entrance “dinged” and slid open as the monster gnashed its gruesome teeth.

The two clerks hugged each other and screamed their last screams. Gorgona shoveled popcorn into her mouth. The doors slid open, and warm air from the parking lot rolled in. Gurgling and roaring, there was yelling and pandemonium; they all screamed in unison, “AHHHH!”

 “Wait, Mr. Arnold?” Stanley peered over the counter and looked at the floor.

“Ugh, I slipped on a hot dog and got tangled in the gas hoses.” He lamented in tears, unable to get off the floor.

“So that’s why you look like a monster with a million arms,” Zara laughed nervously.

They got him cleaned up and brushed him off. Stanley made him a hot chocolate from the “any drink, drink dispenser.” 

Zara put a blanket on Mr. Arnold’s shivering brown shoulders, and the group went back to watching the film. The heroine grabbed her face and wailed bloody murder, and they all jumped and sipped hot chocolate, pretending they weren’t scared.

Stanley looked over, and Mr. Arnold was fast asleep.

The sun was coming up on the horizon and the moon shift was almost over. Zara would fly solo soon, and they still haven’t opened the prized safe. They tried every combination and used every hammer and crowbar they could find, but it wouldn’t budge. Stanley kicked it and hurt his toe.

“I give up,” he sighed. “I guess we’ll never find out what’s inside.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t open your trash box,” Zara pretended to be bummed.

Stanley snapped his fingers. He had a bright idea after laying eyes on the floor in front of the messy beverage machine. All those eons mopping up paid off—he had the answer. He took Gorgona’s cup of sludgie and splashed it on the door of the safe. It sizzled and sparked and burned a hole right through. Astonished that it worked, the brave clerk reached into the darkness of the rusty hole. Stanley pulled out a yellow piece of parchment paper that said “Mansion Estate Deed”, along with a heavy key to the front door. The paper read as such: “To whom it may concern. Congratulations, you’re now the owner of a beautiful home on Pandora, one of Saturn’s most glamorous satellites. Bask in the paradise of moonlight and sunlight from almost three hundred moons!” Stanley couldn’t make out the faded signature. He wasn’t even sure if they deserved that kind of treasure.

“Wow, Mr. Stanley. Looks like you can retire with your fish and cat.”

“But don’t you want some of it? A piece of the pie?” Stanley suggested. “You helped everyone out this entire night.”

“Nah, it looks like trash to me,” Zara joked. She crossed her arms and peered into the dark hole.

The sun was on the horizon. It was daylight again, and Stanley’s shift had come to a close. He shook Mr. Arnold’s hand and took his name tag off. He waved goodbye to Zara and stood on the welcome mat.

Reflected sunlight bounced around the store as the automatic doors slid open with a “ding.” He took a deep breath and ventured into the new day.