The rest of my work day is pretty uneventful. Only one more customer comes to the gas station, but only buys gas at the pump, so he doesn’t enter the building. At 5 p.m. on the dot, the next employee comes in for his shift. His name is Mark and he’s an older man, I’d say late forties. He’s fairly creepy and I don’t enjoy any interactions with him. Tragically, they occur everyday. Mark doesn’t really say anything in general, he stares at me awkwardly until I leave. His gaze is always uncomfortable, too. It’s like he’s trying to learn the secrets that lie in my soul, which I dislike. So, as he enters the building, I try to avoid eye contact with him.
“Hey, Mark.” I say, with no response. Just as usual. I gather up my items as Mark hovers over me, waiting for his spot at the cash register. I grab my purse, keys, water bottle, and earbuds and hurry out of there. Mark gives me the chills every time I have to interact with him. At the door, I turn around to Mark. “Have fun with your shift.” His disheveled face just stares at me, studying my body in a way I very much dislike. “Okay, then.” I nod and walk out of the door, copying Nate and Cindy from earlier.
Mark has the same kind of energy that you’d find walking through a bad neighborhood, nerve-wracking with a subtle hint of danger. At least you don’t have to interact with him again today. I check my phone before I hit the road and notice a text from my father asking to pick up my brothers from the lake, as well as a text from Cindy, but I couldn’t quite tell what she was asking.
As my tires hit the asphalt of the road, I feel the usual euphoric sense of freedom rush through my body. The same sense of freedom I get after every completed shift, or when I think of just driving off on a new adventure. I could disappear into the night, take my bags and my car and ditch this place. I smile and that thought. Frankly, I knew it wouldn’t happen, but a girl can dream, right?
The lake is about two miles away from the gas station, also on the outskirts of Redland. The lake is much more visited than the part of town where the gas station is, though. Once the annual heatwave kicks in, it’s hard to find times when the lake is vacant enough to even swim in. Half the town shows up at the lake and seems to live there the entire week. Usually it’s the younger generations that live at the lake, but occasionally you’ll find an older retired couple or two. Most times they stick to the safety of air conditioned homes rather than the violent ultraviolet rays against their skin.
Regardless of the heat, I find myself driving with my windows rolled down and Bruce Springsteen cranked up in my car. I hit the pedal and stick my hand out the window, feeling the wind between my fingers. That euphoric sense of freedom likes to linger for quite a while after my shift, I will say.
When I pull up to the lake, I realize that my assessment is correct, half the town is there. I turn into the dirt patch that qualifies as the lake parking lot and notice cars practically stacked on top of each other. I end up having to park on the side of the road and walk in my long pants and shirt under the hot sun for a solid half miles before I actually end up lakeside.
In the midst of all those people, I can see my brother floundering around, throwing a football between them and a couple guys my age, both of which graduated with me. Oh no, is that who i think it is? I stare at a blond block of a head and notice my old friend, Jonathan Gardner hanging around my brothers. People have called him “Bink” for as long as I can remember. Quite honestly, I don’t remember how the name started, all I know is that so many people have calle dhim Bink for so long that they’ve forgotten his name’s actually Jonathan.
Bink and I have been friends since kindergarten and we were close all the way up until high school. He was my only friend but suddenly became a star on the football team then he skyrocketed in the social food pyramid. We faded after that and ever since, I haven’t been willing to talk to him. I just find it uncomfortable. Reed and Elliot, you’re going to pay later. I sigh then follow the edge of the lake over to where they are.
“You two, time to go.” I grunt.
“Five more minutes?” They ask simultaneously. Sometimes I think they share one brain.
“No. It’s scorchingly hot out and I just got done working a nine hour shift.” I say.
“You’re such a bummer.” Reed glares.
“You’re welcome for driving all this way to pick you up.” I roll my eyes. “Now hurry up and dry off.” Both the twins grumble all the way to their towels, which are completely covered in sand that would soon end up in my Pontiac.
“You could lighten up, Eleni.” Bink says from the water. Those are the first words he’s said to me in a solid two years.
“I’m exhausted from working all day.” I explain, “Because unlike you leeches, some of us have to work.”
“It’s that gas station on the edge of town, right?” One of his friends said who’s name I always manage to forget, “I don’t think you’ll be working there much longer.” They both snicker at that comment.
“At least it’s a paying job.” I respond, “More than I can say for the two of you.”
“Ouch.” Bink says.
“Reed, Elliot, let’s go.” I say. The twins lead the way to the parking lot, completely doused in wet sand. “See you later, Bink.” I turn and follow my brothers. As we make our way to the car, I reminisce about the good times I had as friends with Bink and how that had all fallen apart in high school. I miss that.
The walk back to my car is a quiet one, I can tell the twins are still annoyed that I made them leave early. They keep whispering to each other, like a couple of school girls spreading rumors. I just ignore them and take in the walk. Good thing is that even though there’s a long walk from Ashy Lake to the parking lot, a majority of it is shady. Trees completely surround the walk, making for a nice walk.
“You two mad about leaving the lake?” I ask, tired of the silence.
“A little bit.” Reed responds. “We’re mostly talking about how you’ve become a bummer since graduation.”
“I got a job.” I say.
“You’ve had that job for two years, though. You weren’t like this before you graduated.” Elliot answers.
“Well now that I’m an adult, I feel partly responsible to pick up some of the slack around the house.” I explain.
“Trying to take Mom’s place in the household?” Elliot questions.
“Mom doesn’t have a place in the household.” I respond bluntly, “Look, I’m just providing some extra income before I leave.”
“Leave where?” Elliot and Reed both turn. I forgot that I haven’t told them I planned on leaving Redland.
“Well-” I start, but then pause. The hairs on the back on my neck rise.
“Eleni?” Elliot asks.
“Shush.” I hiss. I can feel eyes observing me from the woods beside us. A knot forms in my stomach, telling me there’s definitely something going on.
“What’s going on?” Reed whispers.
I look to my right, sensing that something’s watching me from the woods. I scan the heavy line of trees, looking for anything suspicious, but my eyes come up with nothing. Something’s watching you. My brain keeps repeating that same line, almost alerting me. You need to leave.
“We need to go. Get to the car.” I speed up and grab Reed and Elliot.
“What’s going on, Eleni?” Reed says with a concerned look on his face.
“We just need to get to my car, now.” I hiss. We speed up even more, practically running at this point as I turn to take one last look at the woods. I notice a shadowy figure standing about ten feet in, standing below a tree and wearing a ski-mask. He looks too blurry to make out any other physical features, but I know immediately that he’s what’s been observing us. As we make eye contact, my body systems are screaming at me to get out of there. Get out, now! Get out, get out! I start running, carrying my brothers with. I agreed with my body, I needed to get away from this person as quickly as possible.
As we near the parking lot I turn back once more and notice the man in the ski-mask standing in the middle of the drive, slowly walking in my direction, carrying something in his hand. He stops at the very edge of the woods and continues staring at the three of us until we can no longer see him as we sprint down the road for my car. Once we pile into my Pontiac, my body systems calm down and feel more secure, but in the back of my mind, I can still sense those eyes, staring at me from afar.
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