Matt Cowper - The Clerk

“What? Oh, nothing. Just a formless tune.”

The dock creaked beneath their feet. Despite countless hosing-downs, it was still stained dark where the day’s catch of the respective boats had been tossed onto the planks day after day. Thomas could almost see the dolphin lined up on the dock, their blazing colors shining in the sun.

They passed by the headboat, the Salty Queen , and Thomas stopped to peer up at the ninety-five footer. Orianna sat down on the dock box for The Fury and looked at nothing in particular. After a few moments, feeling himself willed to her side, Thomas walked over and sat down beside her — not too closely, though.

“Nice to walk out here at night, when no one’s around,” he stated obviously.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Ever been fishing offshore?”

“No, I haven’t. But I’m sure it’s fun.”

“I’ve only been once. Got a little seasick. It was fun, though. Kind of scary to be out in the middle of the Gulf Stream with no land in sight.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

Dark water sloshed against the pilings. Thomas drummed his fingers on his knees.

“What’s up? You were fine back at the Party, but now it looks like you’re brooding.”

“I know, I know,” Orianna said sadly. Thomas, hearing this tone, felt like he should comfort her somehow. A hand on the shoulder, even a hug, followed by some gentle words. Instead, he leaned forward and looked into her pale face.

“You’re killing me here,” Thomas said. “You’re not going to go drive off a bridge or something, are you?”

“No, nothing like that. It’s just… dammit, I felt so good about my decision, but now I feel like I’m letting everyone down…”

“What decision?” Thomas asked, though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“I’m going to put in my two week notice tomorrow.”

“I see.” So that was what she’d discussed with Cynthia. Thomas sat silent, looking up at the night sky. Orianna finally stirred and touched his arm. Two minutes earlier, a touch from her would have filled him with confidence and contentment. Now it felt like a drowning girl trying to pull him down into the abyss with her.

“I wanted to walk out here with you and tell you face to face because… well, I feel like we could have been friends. There was some sort of connection there, don’t you think?”

“There’s nothing preventing us from being friends — or whatever — after you quit.”

“Yes, but… you know how things are. I’ll be doing this, you’ll be doing that.”

“That’s not very good reasoning.”

“Hmmm… maybe so… but… shit, I feel so fucking stifled !”

Snarling, she surged off the dock box, threw up her trembling hands, and glared at the sky. Thomas jerked back reflexively, feeling the cold sting of disillusionment within him. He would not have thought it possible that such a rage-filled, malicious grimace could appear on her face. He thought back to Roy and their parking-lot conversation so many years ago; Roy had had the exact same look when he turned off his car radio.

Orianna’s grimace, like Roy’s, had only lasted a second, and now she sagged, looking ancient and tired.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m being over-dramatic, and I don’t think I’m a very over-dramatic person.”

“No, you’re usually pretty reserved.”

“But… after tonight, this party… it’s nice and all… but it’s so… small . I mean, there are wars going on all the time, there are churches in Europe that are hundreds of years old, there are mountains and deserts and glaciers and — all of it.” A sweep of the hand covered the entire Earth. “I want to see some of it, at least, and not be stuck here until I’m old and gray.”

“Stuck here like me, you mean.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Come on, I’m not dumb. Me, Vernon, Maureen, Eldridge, we’re the people you’re talking about. People who stay in one spot instead of seeing the big wide world.”

“Yes… well… that’s true… but I’m not belittling you or anyone else. I’m really not. But this life — it’s just not the life for me.”

“What is the life for you? Traveling the world?” Thomas asked.

“I don’t know. I’m not going to run off to college and become one of them . And I don’t want to just sit at home above the garage mooching off my parents. But yes, I do want to… go somewhere.”

“It’s déjà vu all over again.”

“What?”

“If you knew how many people who’ve worked at Oxendine’s felt like you feel… when did you decide to up and quit, anyway?”

“Tonight.”

“Tonight? Tonight when?”

“I don’t know. Sometime during the course of the evening. Inside that hot room, with everyone laughing about nothing, and Vernon with the mistletoe, asking every girl five hundred times if he can get a kiss…”

“I think you’re being impulsive. And maybe the beer has something to do with this.”

“Well, maybe it’s time I act impulsive. I’ve been the rational one since birth. Reserved, like you say. My little brother was — is — a wild man, always did what he wanted, but now look at him — playing baseball at East Carolina, while I’m stuck here working at a tiny grocery store.”

“I don’t want to hear any more of your sob story.”

“…what?”

Thomas stood up and stuffed his hands in his jacket.

“You heard me. Like I said, you’re not the first person to walk through the doors of Oxendine’s Grocery, only to walk right back out because you thought you were better …”

“I didn’t say better . I mean I’m…”

“It’s the same thing. I’ve seen it before, I’m sure I’ll see it again. It’s old by now.” He glanced over at her, and the sight of her glistening eyes was sadistically pleasing to him. She should break down and weep. She deserved to feel hollow and hopeless. She deserved punishment.

But — he could stop now, if he wanted. He could apologize, make those tears evaporate, fix everything. He recalled a long-ago conversation with Vernon that had been very much like this one. Back then, Vernon had convinced him to stay when he wanted to quit. But Thomas wasn’t Vernon, and Vernon himself was drunk and babbling back in his mini-van. Thomas would say what was on his mind, and damn the torpedoes: “You drag me out here and ruin my goddamn evening — and I think I’ve made it clear how much I enjoy this Party — so that you can tell me you’re quitting, because we may have been friends, and there may have been a connection, and blah blah blah. You’re just a drama queen who wanted to tell someone else about your Big Decision, and you hoped I would pat you on the head and say ‘there, there,’ and then you’d disappear, because we can’t be friends because I’ll be doing this and you’ll be doing that.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’ve upset you,” Orianna said softly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“What you meant to do is irrelevant.”

He self-righteously turned on his heel and walked away, vowing not to look back. He broke that vow after ten yards. Orianna was still sitting on the dock box, but she wasn’t sobbing, as he expected; she was staring across the channel to Sugarloaf Island, as steely as she’d ever been. Thomas frowned, dissatisfied. He wanted to see her broken and weeping, but she’d apparently recovered already. He again vowed not to look back, and this time he kept his vow.

The drive to Raleigh only took three hours or so, but to Thomas, who never drove anywhere, it was an epic journey, taxing of one’s concentration and endurance. There were so many goddamn cars , and they were either going much faster than him or much slower. He cursed the slowpokes and wished a state trooper or a highway patrolman would appear and ticket the speeders. The ubiquitous “OBX,” “SOBX,” and “SALT LIFE” stickers dotting the vehicles also vexed him, as did the curly, flowery letters that women put on their back windshields to spell out their initials. Why did everyone have to have the same goddamn things on their cars?