Blue's Eyes

Chapter 3 - Work and Nancy Mooch:

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Chapter 3 – Work and Nancy Mooch:

“Belle?” Floyd – my boss – hollered from the back of the shop.

I dropped the cleaning cloth from the window and jogged over to the cut out door way and leaned on the frame, peeking my head it. “Yes?” Boxes covered up the floor, some piled on top of each other. He looked at me sympathetically and I gave him a little smile as I went to pick up the closest one. “I’ll get started straight away.”

Floyd owned a large music store which stocked cd’s, vinyls, iTunes vouchers as well as computers that you could hook your iPod up to and buy your music; and heaps of different music players. Basically it was a God store. There were other people working too, most doing work at the registers though. I did all the jobs. I’d alternate between cleaning, stocking shelves, helping Floyd with the data and serving people.

On top of the box, ‘COUNTRY’ was printed on a sticker. I carried it over to the cd section, opened it and began to restock the seemingly half full shelves and racks. A slim grin tugged at my chapped lips as I looked down at the cases. Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, The Dixie Chicks.

The shop was buzzing with browsers and customers. I felt sick from all the commotion – people passing by me, talking and walking. It was much too loud and I would have put in my earphones if I wasn’t on the job. But I had to do it, that’s what kept me going. Even when my mother found a job, we would still struggle. You may even have to find another one, I thought.

I unpacked another eight boxes in different genres of music, humming to the songs that played through the speakers as if to keep me calm. Every time someone asked me a question, I’d swallow my anxiety and smile at them.

Glancing at my watch, I sighed. It was sprinkling outside, and the air had gained a nip in it. I’d be driving at 10:30 – after I’d helped Floyd lock up. I was payed $20 an hour; around one hundred and fifty dollars a night. It wasn’t enough to enjoy luxuries, but it would pay the bills. I stored all the money in the safe after Floyd nodded at me. We’d been aware of each other for a month. Ever since I’d applied, he’d taken a liking to me. He was in his late forties and was a diehard rocker from the 70s. He was cute with his black hair and denim vest with tags all over it. Like the cool dad from primary school.

Grabbing my sweater, I left the shop and trotted off down the quiet, lit pathway among the wooden shops I’d passed that morning. The occasional car passed and I folded my arms over my chest as the wind sprayed the thin rain onto my face. A short man walked in front of me with his hands in his pockets, but then crossed the road. My eyes landed on the van at the end of the path, about 100 metres in front of me.

I was almost content with the silence and soft rain, but then another pair of footsteps joined in with the echoing of my boots on the bricked ground. The wooden roof ended, trees now towering over me. The temperature suddenly changed dramatically, and I clenched my jaw. I bravely turned my head to look behind me, and my gut jumped into a knot – shaking from either the cold or… fear. I felt scared.

I swivelled my head back to the front and made my footsteps lighter so I could listen to the other person’s. They’d had porcelain, white skin; vibrant, red hair and from what I could see – dark eyes. A dangerous aura radiated off of him which made me feel as if I were his pray.

I picked up my pace as my body drew nearer to the car. But as the sound of my steps accelerated, so did the person’s behind me. The bile began a steady yet familiar crawl up my throat. My hands clenched into fists, crushing the car keys into my palm and jabbing the skin. I wanted to be home in Watertown.