“Someplace decadent and bad for us,” Nimh replied. “How do you feel about the salad bar?”
“Your definition of ‘decadent’ needs some work, but sure,” said Dan. He fished his car keys out of his pocket, holding them up for her to see. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Oh, no,” said Nimh, looking faintly perplexed. “I like your car much better.”
Dan was still laughing when they pulled out of the parking lot. Nimh snuggled deeper in the passenger seat and just listened to the sound of it, wishing, as she always did, that the moment would never have to end. But it would. Moments like this, moments outside the Undermart, always did.
Later that night, after three plates of salad (one with blue cheese dressing, and wasn’t that the naughtiest thing anyone had ever done?) and half a pitcher of virgin sangria, Nimh nestled under the synthetic cotton sheets ($9.99, housewares) and genuine vegetable lamb comforter on Dan’s bed, letting herself breathe in the reassuring salty scent of him as she curled against his side.
“What are you thinking?” she asked.
“That I wish we didn’t have to get up in seven hours and head back to our dead-end jobs where we have to work in the same building all day long without seeing each other.” Dan pushed himself up onto his elbow, looking at her gravely. He had to squint to do it, but he didn’t reach for his glasses. That had been the first sign that he was falling in love with her: when he stopped putting his glasses back on every time they rolled apart long enough to breathe. “Doesn’t it ever bother you? The idea that maybe this is going to be our lives? Get up, spend the whole day working at the Undermart, go shopping at the Undermart, go home, go sleep, and wait to die?”
Nimh blinked at him. “No. That doesn’t bother me. Why would it?”
Dan hesitated. “Sometimes I don’t understand you, you know.”
“I know.” Nimh reached up one hand, cupping his cheek. “I’m doing the best I can. I just didn’t grow up around here, remember?”
“I remember. I just never thought of Canada as being another planet before I met you.” Dan sighed. “Honestly, Nimh, are you going to be happy? If this is all there is? Don’t you want to run away from here? Because I’d do it, you know, if you were willing to go with me. I’d run away, and I’d never look back.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“I know. But I wish—”
Nimh slid her hand around to press a finger against his lips, trapping the wish before it could be fully birthed into the world. “Never wish,” she said, with quick urgency. “Wishing is what lets danger into the world.”
Dan blinked at her. Then he sighed, heavily, and dropped back to the bed, rolling onto his back as he stared up at the ceiling. “Kyle was asking today about what I was doing with you—or what you were doing with me, I guess.”
“What did you tell him?” asked Nimh.
There was a sudden edge to her voice that made him lift his head and frown, seeing the alarm on her slightly blurry features. “That you were my girlfriend. Why?”
“I just … I just wondered, that’s all. Can we sleep? Please? I’m tired, and it will be morning soon.”
“Sure, sweetie.” Dan kissed her forehead before nestling himself a little deeper. “Sleep well.”
“Yes,” Nimh said. “You, also.”
Dan turned off the light. His breathing quickly steadied into the long, slow rise and fall of a sleeping man. Nimh remained awake, staring up at the ceiling and beginning to compose the addendum she would have to make to her upcoming report to management. There was no point in trying to omit what she had learned. Management would already know, and would be waiting to learn what she was willing to do to massage the data.
Management always knew.
“Has anybody seen Kyle?” asked Dan, picking up a refill for his price gun. “I’ve been taking care of the toy section by myself all morning, and I’m about ready to punch his stupid face in if he comes sauntering in here without a damn good excuse for himself.”
The clerks he’d been talking to stiffened, exchanging a wary glance before the shorter one—he thought her name was Peggy—said, slowly, “You mean he didn’t tell you?”
Dan frowned. “Didn’t tell me what? Oh, jeez, don’t tell me he finally decided to quit. Please. I have plans this weekend.”
“That he was up for a promotion,” said the other clerk. He was actually wearing his name tag, identifying him as one of the store’s seven or so men named Arthur. He offered Dan a reassuring smile. “I’m sure he’s going to be much happier and more fulfilled with his work now that he’s doing something truly suited to his skills.”
“A promotion?” Slow, terrifying certainty was uncoiling itself in Dan’s gut. He did his best to keep it from showing on his face as he snapped the refill roll into his price gun. “Wow. Well, I hope they’ll be hiring for his position soon. I can’t manage toys by myself forever.”
“I’m sure management is on top of things,” said Arthur.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” agreed Dan, with a fairly sickly looking smile. He turned and left the stockroom, walking quickly back onto the floor. One of the customers in the toy section had managed to pull over an entire display of toy cars, and without Kyle to help, it took the better part of an hour for Dan to get everything picked up and put back where it belonged.
By the time the display was restored to its original condition, it was time for Dan’s first break of the day. He slipped back into the stockroom long enough to clock out, then made his way slowly toward the front of the store, where the greeters would be waiting to welcome new customers to the Undermart.
Undermart wasn’t the only big-box store to employ their own small army of smiling faces, but they liked to say that they went The Extra Smile™, with greeters who were somewhere between friendly faces and personal shoppers. They would even follow customers through the store if asked, carrying their bags and offering tips about good bargains. Consequentially, the store employed twice as many greeters as any of their competitors, just to keep up with the demand.
The yellow and green vests of the greeters made them stand out amongst the shoppers like macaws in a chicken coop. Dan scanned them quickly, and was just starting to relax when he spotted a head covered in familiar blond spikes. The greeter was too far away for him to be certain, but he still knew. The moment that he saw the way the greeter was standing, the height of him, Dan knew.
Holding tightly to his price gun, like it would somehow defend him from whatever was ahead, Dan walked over to the door and waited until Kyle’s customer turned to leave the store. She was smiling broadly, like a little girl who’d just been promised she’d be getting that pony for her birthday after all. Women never smiled after they finished talking to Kyle. Sometimes they threatened to talk to his manager, but they never smiled.
“Kyle?”
“Oh, hello.” Kyle turned, a beatific smile lighting his acne-scarred features and turning them into something almost beautiful. “Welcome to Undermart. Can I help you find some wonderful bargains for your home and family?”
“Kyle, it’s me, Dan. Your partner, remember?” Dan held up the price gun, waving it between them. “Why didn’t you tell me you were applying for a promotion? I thought you hated the greeters!”
“Undermart greeters are here to help you make the most of your shopping experience. We’re like Santa’s elves, now with Real Super-Saving Action™!” Kyle kept smiling, but there was something strained in his eyes, like part of him wanted nothing more than to start screaming instead. “What are you looking for today?”
“Kyle!” Dan grabbed Kyle’s vest with his free hand. The rest of the greeters froze, the whole yellow and green herd of them turning slowly to stare at the man who had dared to lay a hand on one of their own.
Starting to feel like he had made a very big mistake, Dan let go and stepped back.
“Sorry. I guess I just got carried away.”
Kyle’s smile never wavered. “An
ger management videos can be found in our Entertainment section. Or, if your doctor would like to prescribe anti-anxiety medications, you can have them sent directly to our Undermart pharmacy. They got me, Dan. Run while you still can. Maybe you’d like to have a delicious Milk-y-shake™ while you wait for your nerves to settle?”
Dan’s eyes widened. “What did you just say?”
“Milk-y-shakes™ are available in six flavors: chocolate, vanilla, mango-banana, strawberry, our own signature Mint-i-licious, and for a limited time only, seasonal Chokka-berry-yum. Try one today!”
Dan took another step backward. Kyle kept on smiling, giving no sign that he understood what he was saying.
Clutching his price gun to his chest, Dan turned and fled.
“Nimh! Nimh?” Dan burst into the upstairs hall—the one most employees entered only under duress or when called to meet with management. He was still clutching his price gun, and was dimly aware that his break had ended five minutes ago. That didn’t seem to matter now. Nothing mattered but finding Nimh and getting the hell out of the Undermart, before whatever had gotten to Kyle started getting to them. “Dammit, Nimh, where are you?!”
“Dan?”
He whirled to see his girlfriend standing framed in one of the private doorways, the door pulled almost entirely shut behind her. The air smelled like cotton candy and fresh raspberries, two scents he’d never really associated with corporate management before coming to work for the Undermart.
Before he’d started dating Nimh.
Not letting himself think about what he was doing, Dan lunged and grabbed her hand, yanking her out of the doorway. “Come on! We’ve got to get out of here. We’ve got to get out of here now.”
“What are you talking about?” Nimh pulled herself out of his grasp, eyes wide and alarmed. “You’re acting crazy, Dan. You’re still on your shift.”
“Undermart isn’t safe.”
“What? Undermart is the safest place there is!”
“Kyle’s a greeter. Kyle didn’t even seem to know who I was, and he would never, never voluntarily take a job as a greeter. He was telling me just yesterday that management ‘promotes’ people who don’t agree with them, and now—”
“Dan, I’m management,” said Nimh quietly.
“—he’s been promoted, and he doesn’t recognize me! We have to go!”
“It’s my fault they promoted him.”
“If we don’t leave now, I don’t know if we can—what?” Dan stopped, blinking at Nimh. “What are you talking about?”
“You’re right, Dan. You should go.” Nimh drew herself up a little straighter, smiling despite the tears he could see starting to gather in the corners of her eyes. “Go now. I’ll cover for you with the senior managers, but only if you go now.”
“Nimh… .” Dan started to step forward, reaching for her.
“You’re fired,” she whispered. “Now get out before I call store security on you.”
Dan stood there, stunned, as Nimh turned away and stepped back through the private door, closing it behind herself with a decisive click.
He took the price gun with him when he left the Undermart. Technically, it was theft. He honestly didn’t care.
The doors of the downtown Undermart officially opened at 7AM, catering to those early risers and busy professionals who needed to get a leg up on the day. In order to make the opening seamless, delivery trucks and stockroom staff began arriving at 5:30. Dan showed up at 5:45, wearing the employee vest he was no longer strictly entitled to and clutching his purloined price gun like a sword.
“Morning, Dan,” said Molly, as he walked past her without clocking in.
“Morning, Molly,” he replied, and kept going, heading through the employee level to the management stairs.
He’d thought long and hard after Nimh threw him out the night before, finally concluding that, having been fired, he could go looking for answers without fear of any further repercussions. Maybe a trespassing charge, but that was about it. He kept that thought firmly in mind as he slunk silently into the upstairs hall, heading for the doorway Nimh had retreated through after firing him. Whatever was behind that door, maybe it could give him some idea of what had been done to Kyle.
Dan tested the knob as he dug in his pocket for the nail file he intended to use as an impromptu lock pick. The door had always been locked before, and the test was more out of habit than anything else. That didn’t stop the door from swinging promptly open, revealing the darkened room beyond. Dan stopped where he was, blinking.
“Huh,” he said, softly. “OK, then.” Pulling his hand from his pocket, he clutched the price gun a little tighter, and stepped over the threshold, into the dark.
The darkness lasted for three steps. Step one, normal dark, with the dim light of the hallway creeping in from behind him. Step two, absolute dark, like there was no light left in the world. Step three, a somehow even deeper dark, one that went on forever and ever, without end. Step four …
Step four and he was back in the light. Not the dim light of the early morning Undermart, but the bright daytime light of a glossy green meadow, dotted with garishly colored flowers that smelled like cinnamon and cotton candy. Dan froze, fingers clenching convulsively on the handle of his price gun. A $12.99 price tag popped out of the business end, looking like nothing so much as a ticket back to the real world. He grabbed the tag, affixing it to his vest, and waited.
Nothing changed.
“Dan?”
Nimh sounded querulous, even terrified. Dan whirled to face her, raising his price gun so that it was held solidly between them, and stared. Her normally black hair was a rich shade of plum purple, like she was trying to look like one of the less popular dolls from the Strawberry Shortcake™ toy collection. She had it pulled back, showing the distinctly pointed tips of her ears. Her eyes were a shade of violet only a little lighter than her hair.
Really, if she hadn’t been wearing her Undermart uniform, she would have been entirely unbelievable. But no matter how good his imagination was, he could never have imagined anything that clashed as badly as plum hair and an official Undermart uniform vest.
“What the—where are—what are you?!” The questions came out so fast they tangled around one another, becoming a single long, half-coherent demand.
Nimh shook her head, newly violet eyes wide. “No, no, I can’t tell you, and you can’t be here. Dan, why didn’t you run? You were supposed to run.” She started to reach for him, despair washing over her features as he stepped back, out of her reach. “I have to get you out of here before it’s too late. I love you. Don’t you see? I tried to get you away from the store because I love you.”
“Too late?” asked Dan. “Too late for what?”
Nimh didn’t answer. She just looked past him, the expression slowly draining from her face. It almost wasn’t a surprise when the hand clamped down on his shoulder from behind, a hand easily twice the size of his, with fingers that tightened until they hurt.
“Nimue?” rumbled a voice, in something that sounded less like simple speech than it did the movement of rocks deep beneath a mountain. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Hello, Daddy,” sighed Nimh. “I’d like you to meet my boyfriend.”
Dan didn’t remember leaving the green meadow with the impossible flowers. He didn’t remember Nimh changing her hair from purple back to its more customary black. And he certainly didn’t remember the face of the man behind that massive hand. But most of all, he didn’t remember being tied to a chair. He tugged experimentally on the rope that held him down ($14.99, home and garden). The knots held.
Nimh stood in front of him, wringing her hands anxiously. Her eyes were still violet. He seized on that hope. If her eyes were still violet, maybe he wasn’t really tied to a chair. Maybe this was just a really, really weird dream.
“Your mortal man awakens,” rumbled a deep voice from behind him.
The hope died. No matter how weird his dreams got, they never made
him want to piss himself.
“Yes, Daddy,” said Nimh. That odd accent of hers was stronger now. Dan couldn’t believe he’d ever believed her when she said she was Canadian. Leaning closer, she dropped her voice, and whispered, “Dan, please. I need you to be respectful. Please.”
“Or what? You’ll kill me?”
“No.” Sorrow filled her eyes. “We’ll promote you.”
Dan was still trying to come up with a reply when the man stepped out from behind him and moved to stand next to Nimh. Then he simply blinked. “Mr. Ronald, the district manager, is your father?”
“You may address me as His Highness Oberon, King of Tirn an Og, ruler of the Lands of the Forever Young,” said the man in an imperious tone. He looked somehow wrong in his three-piece suit, too large and roughly-made, like he would have been more at home on a battlefield, bashing his fellow men—or fellow fairies—with large wooden clubs. “You have trespassed upon my domain. For that, the punishments are known.”
“Um, not by me, they’re not,” said Dan. “I didn’t even know you had a domain here.” He paused, his brain catching up with his mouth. “Wait—did you say ‘Oberon’? As in the—”
“Did not my daughter expel you from our hallowed halls? You were given leave to go. You returned.”
“Your daughter.” Dan’s attention swung to the increasingly miserable-looking Nimh. “He called you ‘Nimue.’ ”
“I told you it was an old family name,” she said.
“You didn’t tell me it was because you were the Lady of the Lake.”
“You never asked!”
Oberon scowled at the pair of them. “If you would be so kind as to shut up so I can commence the punishment, I would very much appreciate it.”
“But Daddy, I love him!” Nimh wailed.
“I fail to see where that’s my problem.”
“I think this punishment thing is about to be my problem, so I’m OK with delaying it,” said Dan. “Excuse me for being a little slow here, but what’s going on? And where’s my price gun?”
The Modern Fae's Guide to Surviving Humanity Page 2