by Couri Johnson
I have to see them every day I go into work. It never use to bother me much, I mean they were all pretty, but they were petite. Small, tender and breakable. They didn’t bother me much. So what if they were dressed in the best fashion? So what if they had their perfect noses in the air like they were so much better than everybody else? Better than me? They were all my size, or smaller. They all looked weak and fragile. Behind those perfectly composed faces I knew there was a glimmer of fear. I may be small, but I carry myself in a powerful way. I’ve got a surplus of strength that is unnatural for my size. I could break any of them, at any moment, and I don’t doubt they knew it. So no, they didn’t bother me much. It wasn’t until she came. It wasn’t till she showed up that I was very bothered at all.
A new store opened, it replaced the old video store that went belly up the year before last. It had remained vacant so long, I never really expected it to be filled again, but eventually it was. Along with the new store came new fashions, new faces, and new parades of overtly sexual female beauty. It was called Rouge, and I didn’t care about it much, until she came along with it. She’s not like the others. She’s huge- she must be about 6 feet tall, and busty as all hell, with nice hips and a flat stomach and a round ass. Her nipples are always sticking out from behind her clothes, pointing off in two different directions like a drunks eyes. She was beautiful, and I don’t doubt she knew it. She always had a hand in her full shining auburn hair, and her face was always turned away, gazing off in the distance as if she was even too good to look at you. You’re damn right she fucking knew it. That, above all, bothered the shit out of me. She was so big it was like she was larger than life. And she knew it, the bitch.
Now it’s not that I’m all that ugly. I consider myself pretty ok in the looks department. My nose might be a little too round, and maybe since I started working the night shift here two years ago the bags under my eyes have gotten a little heavy, but I ain’t too bad. My hair might be on the thin side, and sometimes it does get a little greasy. I mean, I know I’m not a supermodel, and I sure as hell ain’t one of them, but I’m not bad, y’know? I never did like my ears though. Plus my family has always been on the short side. We’re small in everyway. Even the men. I got tiny just about everything. I haven’t had to buy new clothes since I was twelve. The age where I finally gained an inch on my mom and started bragging about it. She told me too, but I wouldn’t listen. She said “You better enjoy it now cause you aren’t going to get any bigger.” Damn, I hate the way she’s always right. I had some hope for my breasts but they remained pretty small and sorry. Pixie-ish, that’s what my ma calls them. I never did grow out of an A cup. My mom says if I want bigger boobs I should go get pregnant, she says that’ll fix it. But she’s been pregnant three times and her boobs aren’t much bigger than mine. Just her stomach. Fat chance I’m going to ruin the only small thing about myself I like. Anyway, I’m trying to go to college next year and being pregnant seems like a pain.
The night manager got his wife pregnant. Now, from what I understand, she’s always whining. Always asking for some kind of help and she’s afraid to spend the night alone. Most nights our manager cuts out on us an hour after the shift starts. Says he won’t tell if we don’t. I don’t really give a shit, it’s his ass on the line, not ours. Says he needs to spend time with her. I hate women like that, who rely on others and need people to do all sorts of shit for them. It makes us all look weak. I’m not like that. I got Viking in my blood. I don’t give a shit what anyone says, there isn’t anybody thats walked this earth thats as tough as a Viking. And there ain’t no one on this earth that’s tougher than me. I don’t care what their size is. I got it in my blood.
Doc, he’s my other co-worker, he’s about my age and exactly my size. The only thing big about him is his eyes and the bags under them. Maybe his forehead too, but he keeps that covered with his hat most times, so I don’t really see it. He always looks down, kind of like Droopy Dog. He’s capable of looking pretty sad most of the time, and sometimes it makes me sad looking at him. I don’t mean that in a mean way, sometimes it just does. He got hired around the same time I did and we’ve always been good pals. Most nights we just jerk around and make plans about how we’d rob this place if we could, and what we’d do with the money. We sneak drinks and sometimes race the security carts around the mall’s parking lot. It’s a hoot, especially now that our manger’s wife is knocked up and he has to go see her all the time. I told Doc he should knock her up again once she pops the kid out so the party never has to end. Sometime’s I pick him up and throw him in the trashcan. He tries to fight me off, but I’m a lot tougher than he is. He’s usually pretty sore about it, not the trash, but how much stronger I am than he is. “If someone ever does break in, you’ll have to protect me,” he jokes, when he’s sauced enough not to care.
We’re the midnight security guards. We pretty much run this place at night. No one ever breaks in. We have to report an hour before closing though, and thats when I always see her. No matter what kinda mood I’m in I always end up feeling pretty down and angry when I do. What sucks is I had been feeling pretty good that day too.
“What’s wrong with you, sourpuss?” Doc asked, sliding his chair up next to mine at the control panel. I lazily lifted my hand and flipped through the channels, switching the images on the multitude of televisions before us. He brightened suddenly, “You took the SAT’s today huh, what, did you bomb?” He was all too happy at my supposed failure so I punched him in the arm, but couldn’t help smiling.
“You just want me to be stuck in this hell hole forever,” I howled, stamping my feet.
“Well misery loves company, even if that company is miserable,” he replied and rubbed the spot on his arm I had fisted, “so what, you couldn’t answer a single question after all that studying you did?”
“Nah,” I replied, shaking my head. The last month I had been studying pretty hard instead of horsing around with Doc. My mom said that if I did real good on the SAT’s and got into school I could quit my job and move back home with her to focus on making something out of myself. It’s not like I couldn’t move back home anyway, I had moved out on impulse after I graduated, cause I though it’d be fun, but I’m way to proud to admit I was wrong. Thats how all my family is. We can’t help it, and my mom understands that, so she’s just helping me out. Boy, living alone sure isn’t the fun I imagined. Especially when you can’t throw a damn party cause you have to work all night every night. Basically, you can’t do anything fun at all. I haven’t had a real date since high school. Sometimes me and Doc grab lunch together, which is breakfast for us midnighters, but it ain’t anything like a date. After all it’s light out, and the only thing we can afford to eat is Mc Donald’s. It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. We just kinda like each other and get a long real well. I don’t think I could date someone who looks so sad even when he’s happy. “I did fine on the test, y’know.I just know it.”
“Oh.” For a moment he looks even sadder than usual, but he recovers quickly. That’s one thing I like about Doc, he doesn’t really give a shit about anything much. I think he might be a little upset I’ll be leaving soon, but it’s not like we’re in love or anything. Sometimes we just fool around. He might be a little down, but I don’t think he really gives too much of a shit. “Well, now that you’re done studying and being such a buzz kill, I think we should celebrate.” He lowered his voice then, and gave a quick look around before reaching down to the messenger bag he brings to work everyday and pulling out a bottle of vodka and orange juice. He only has it out for a moment, however, before he has to stash it away again. Our manager had just come in, looking flustered and anxious like I suppose most expecting parents do.
“Good, good,” he says when he see’s us both at our station, “you’re both here. Listen, do you guys mind if I cut out again tonight? Linda’s in a real panic and I really need to get back to her- the baby could come any moment.” Thats what he says every night, and he wrings his hands, afraid that we’re going to blow his cover or some shit. We both give a non-comital shrug and nod, we try to pretend he’s putting us off, by doing this every night, but the truth is we could not want anything more in the world than seeing the back of him. Truth be told, he has a hard time controlling us anyway and doesn’t really get in the way of us goofing off, but we get away with a whole lot more when he isn’t around.
So eventually when the store is clear he takes off and me and Doc get to getting drunk. We start the night off by going back into the contraband room where we keep everything the daytime guards took off of people during the day- shoplifted items, offensive signs, and malevolent items like knives, and guns. None of them are loaded. Back there though, theres some pretty crazy items. Theres a digital camera filled with nude pictures of women that this pervert took in the changing rooms. There’s also a golf club, a rusty saw, and this big old hammer. I mean big. Like a sledge hammer or something. Doc an me get cozy against a wall and start flipping through the pictures. Some are of girls like them, small and overly sexed and pretty like hell, but some are real gross. He couldn’t see what he was taking pictures of, over the wall, so he just took em. We stop at a woman what must be eighty years old or something. She’s just covered in wrinkles and grosser than a pile of shit. She’s got a tattoo on her old broke hip though, of a rose bud. That makes us laugh like crazy. I stop though, when I realize I’m going to look like that one day. It kinda pisses me off. They don’t ever worry about that, but I do all the time. One day I’m going to be all small and wrinkled up and grosser than anything. It makes me want to puke, but I don’t. I’d hate it if Doc thought he held his liquor better than me. Theres also one of a nude little girl and her mom’s helping her change. I didn’t find that funny. Little girls shouldn’t be made sex objects like that, and it makes me pretty angry to think of that old bastard seeing a sweet little girl like that- all undressed, and maybe getting off to it. I took it off Doc then and deleted that one. Ain’t a soul in the world that should see a little girl like that but their mom’s, I think. It’s just not right.
After we were pretty buzzed we went out for our usual cart race outside. Doc took the golf club and I grabbed the hammer and we set up obstacles out of the trashcan. After the race we took turns driving around and taking swings at them with our chosen weapons. It was a real hoot. Then we went back inside since Doc had to piss and it was too cold to do it outside. I nestled back against the wall and started smoking a cigarette while I waited for him. We weren’t suppose to smoke indoors, but nobody would be in there for hours but us. We could fill it with whatever funk we wanted. I smoked, and fingered the hammer I had set up on the wall next to me, and thought a lot. A lot about them. A lot about her. Ain’t no way one of em could ever swing a hammer the way I do, that’s for sure. No way at all. They couldn’t even hold a hammer. But still, it bothered me y’know? Someday I wouldn’t be able to hold a hammer or swing it or anything. I’d be all wrinkled and faded like that damn rose tattoo. But not them, oh no.
“There y’go, looking glum again,” Doc said and slid down the wall to sit next to me. I wanted to say “you’re one to talk” but I don’t think he looks in the mirror enough to catch my meaning. “Thinking about how much you’re going to miss this place?”
“Hell no. ” I spat on the floor to prove I didn’t give a shit about this place. “Farthest thing from my mind. I can’t wait to get out of here, and you can count on that. I can’t fucking wait at all. I mean don’t you get sick of seeing them?” I must be pretty sauced, cause I never really mention them to Doc. He’s a smart kid, y’know, but I don’t think he’d get it.
“What’d’ya mean, the customers? I mean we only have to see them for an hour or so, so it ain’t too bad.” he stroked his hairless chin and cast a sidelong glance at me with those sad eyes. I shrugged. I nodded. I shrugged again. I knew he wouldn’t really get it. It’s not them anyway. I could break anyone of them. They’re so small and breakable and such, why should I care about them at all. It’s her. That fucking bitch. Doc’s already lost interest anyway, and his hand is kinda falling on my knee and dragging up my thigh.
“So you must be thinking bout how much you’re going to miss me, huh?” he tries shyly, and I snort with laughter. A few moments later we’re grappling on the floor in a friendly way, working our way to a state of undress. I don’t mind really. I don’t give much of a shit, either way, and I don’t think he does much either. It’s a long night and it gets pretty lonely. When you spend every night with someone like this its bound to happen. It’s not like we’re dating. It ain’t like we’re in love or any of that shit. I just feel bad for him. I mean, he’s so small and sad. Like me he was born with a small everything, and I know that for a fact, but don’t say anything cause I think it would make him feel bad, but when you’re both so small it kind of makes you feel companionable. Like runts of the world banding together. He ain’t as lucky as me though, cause he ain’t as tough. He can’t help it though. Not when people like her are around, larger than life and beautiful to boot, looking down their noses so hard at you, they won’t even look at you. Don’t even see you. Everybody in this mall is like that.But ain’t no one as bad as them. And no one comes close to her. That kind of stuff just really pisses me off. Afterwards we both kind of laid there in our sweat and smoked a couple more cigarettes and drank a bit more vodka. It was kind of nice, not covering up right away. Doc asks who I mean if I don’t mean the customers, and for once I feel kind of close enough to tell him about it, but at that moment theres a kind of echo of something heavy being moved in the store, so we both sort of jump up and look at the monitor.
“Shit-shit shit.” Doc starts to curse as he struggles to get into his clothes, looking even sadder and smaller than usual, and the companionable feelings just kinda bleed out of me to be replaced by cold fear. “We left the door open-” immediately his hand dives into his pocket and his other hand goes up to his slightly large and sweaty forehead. “I left my keys in the mother fucking door.” He moaned then and grabbed his shirt of the floor. We did a kind of drunk rushed dance to collect our clothes. We weren’t really prepared for a real burglar, but we figured we had to do something. In my dizzy haze I grabbed the hammer from the wall and we stumbled off while formulating what might be called a plan. “I don’t got my keys so I’ll check the halls,” he said, “you check all the stores, but stay close. In case you get in trouble, y’know?” I clutched the hammer and almost laughed- incase he got in trouble, but there was a sick knot in my stomach so I didn’t say anything but nodded firmly. I set to unlocking and entering the various stores, shining my light around incase someone had gotten Doc’s keys and hid themselves among the clothes racks. Eventually, though, I came to it. The one fucking store in this place I hated more than anything, the one place I would rather die than enter. Sure enough, the lock was undone and the metal gate was only partially closed. We should have really known no one could lock the doors from the inside. I looked up and down the hall for Doc but in his frenzy, he had disappeared. So I did what I had to do.
I went in Rouge.
I shouldn’t have been surprised. I really shouldn’t have at all, that she was there, at this time of night. It’s not like she had anywhere else to go. It’s not like she could go anywhere. She stood, just as divine and holier-than-though as they all do, but she was so much bigger. So much more real. The contents of my stomach tossed themselves around, no longer with fear, but revulsion. How dare she be that way. How dare she be that way forever, when I am the way I am, when I’ll fade the way I will. It wasn’t fair, and she knew it.
“Look at me,” I bawled, shining my light on her unnaturally beautiful face, “god-fucking-dammit, you will look at me.” I circled around to where her face was pointed and glared up at her shinning skin. I was pretty sauced. I pretty much forgot the whole reason I was there. “You think you’re so much better than me, huh? Well you’re not! You’re just like all the fucking rest of them- you think you’re so perfect, the way your made, but you’re not and I can break you, y’know. Do y’fucking know that?” I felt the handle in my hand, and it felt right. It felt natural. It felt good. I heard, once, that Viking’s use to carry hammers, y’know? There ain’t one mother fucker out there thats tougher than a Viking, and there ain’t one mother fucker out there better than me. Not even if they’re bigger, or prettier, or fake or anything. I won’t take it, y’know? I laughed then. I laughed long and hard, because this was exactly what I’d wanted to do, ever since I came here, ever since I saw them. Ever since I saw her. If I weren’t laughing I may have heard the movement behind me, or Doc calling my name right outside . “You got any last words, you bitch?” I advanced, and I felt the heft of the hammer, the weight of it, and it was like an extension of my body as I swung it back and then up and then down again. I swear, I really do have Viking blood, and there ain’t anything out there tougher or meaner. I swung it down, and I swung it down hard, and her perfect little fucking face cracked and shattered right then and there, but I kept swinging until she was broken right down, till her neck was a stub and her big fat breasts were cracking in half and falling to pieces caught over her slim little stomach by her tight little sweater. I might have kept swinging too, but I heard someone fall and knock over a rack of clothes behind me and I turned. This portly little man was knocked on the floor looking at me with this wide kind of terror.
“Are you crazy or something?” he shrieked and struggled to get back to his feet.I wasn’t really mad at him, but I couldn’t help myself, I had kinda went berserk. It’s my blood, I swear, and it’s them, and the way he was looking at me was just like them, like I was scum or something. So I didn’t mean to, but I couldn’t stop, and before I knew it his head was cracked too, and he was laying in a pool of his own blood.
It wouldn’t have been so bad, if Doc hadn’t seen, but he had. He looked glummer than usual, as he surveyed me standing in the middle of the pieces of the mannequin and that fellow and his blood. But he doesn’t give too much a shit about anything, thats why I like Doc. He kinda gave a noncommittal shrug after awhile, and said “We’ll fix this.” I shrugged back, and kinda smiled and hung my head in shame, like a pup who doesn’t know his strength and drew blood with its first bite. We came up with a pretty good story. How the fella held Doc up and took his keys, and how I had come in and saw him holding Doc up with a gun, which we planted on him from the contraband closet. We even marked it up with his fingerprints and everything, and I got the hammer and brained him and in my panic hit the mannequin too. How before he took Doc to the stores he had him disconnect all the cameras and erase all of em, and tied the manager up in the closet. The manager had to go along with it too. After all it was his ass on the line, and he had mouthes to feed and everything. In the end it worked out pretty well, but I could’t take the way Doc was looking at me.
So I kinda tried to lighten the mood by swinging the hammer up and down, and smiling all nervous like our manager does, and saying “I won’t tell if you don’t”. I don’t think it helped though. He just kept right on looking.