Wounds to Bind

Wounds to Bind (an e3 fanfic)

COMPLETELY REVISED!!!!!!:)

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The day is obscenely slow. Customers come in and out of the store like they have nowhere to go indefinitely. As one comes in, they shuffle about asking, Do you sell snowboards? Will these be on sale? Does this come in blue? They proceed to wander around the modest store staring with *vindication* at the overpriced merchandise as if they are procuring a new addition to their family rather than a new hobby. They leave the store to the familiar clink of the bell strung up on the door in an elaborate tangle of old string that happen to be lying about.

As I sit behind the droll counter in the center of the small shop, waiting to ring up any items, I reflect over the days events (not much.) It has been a begrudgingly intolerant few hours thus far. I have no real interest in continuing on to see what the day has left to offer, if anything. It had been on of those days.

My only tolerable coworker, Thomas, slinks casually by mumbling something about a slow day, and follows his comment with a wise crack about the town. I nod and make an approving "huff," noise while I turn back to what had been previously occupying me. Inventory. How exciting.

Snow boards, water boards, skate boards, surf boards, long boards, knee boards. All the boards that an aptly named "Randy's Board Store" could order. Excluding Ouija Boards. Thomas walks by again and I tell him the Ouija Board joke that I had just cracked to myself. Thomas returns my previously expressed 'approving huff noise' and walks on.

On any other day, Randy would have found his way here by now and ordered an employee evaluation. As the owner of "Randy's Board Store," he enjoys being good and sure that literally everything is how he wishes it to be. Not so unfortunately, Randy has not arrived yet. Which I make a mental note of and begin carefully organizing the counter. Just in case Randy has something planned that would require me to look like I care about, and am good at, my job as cashier.

It's 2 pm. He should be here by now.

15 minutes more go by and I'm skeptical.

30 go by and I'm anxious.

49 and now I'm just confused.

After a while I decide to take action and pick up the store's only phone. A decrepit corded model that can do about a hundred things a phone doesn't need to do, because Randy insisted on purchasing the most expensive telephone he could get his hands on. That's just Randy. I pick up the phone to dial Randy's number. When I reach him, the signature click tone sounds and an unfamiliar voice answers. I inquire as to, "Who might this be answering Randy's phone?" and all I receive back is an amused chuckle.

From the background I hear Randy's voice invoked, "You're on speaker Tessa! I'm with a customer I met on the way to the store this morning."

"In your car?"

"Yes," Randy concludes as if that is all the explanation he needs to provide.

"Um, why?"

"Oh, well we met at the pawn shop. I stopped by to grab a gift for Greta and this young man seemed to be having trouble finding a surfboard. And you know, I happen to own a board store so we are on our way."

I roll my eyes to myself, of course. Anything Randy desires, he seems to just happen upon. He is as gifted as they come and I am reminded of this every time I begin to doubt the phenomenon. So it is only fitting he would just happen upon someone interested in his trade, and then invite them into his car for a ride to his board store. I'm sure he found something extravagant for Greta at the pawn shop as well. Greta is his daughter. Randy is a personal kind of guy. Thomas and I are on a first name basis with him and his children, whom we encounter regularly when he brings them to the store.