Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  I heard the news story, but paid little attention to it. I yawned.

  “You’re worn out, girl!” Carmen said, looking at me dubiously. “Are you going to be able to handle this job?”

  “Appearances are deceiving. I’m not as frail as I look. I’ve been through much worse situations—not in the physical sense, but I’m not afraid of hard work. I’m more afraid of being unemployed!”

  Carmen nodded. She couldn’t argue with me about that. For a girl like Carmen, who also depended on having a job in order to support herself, it was easy to understand my point of view.

  “What exactly did you see?” continued the reporter on television.

  “It was the most appalling thing I’ve ever seen...I don’t know how to describe it! It was a panther with eyes illuminated by moonlight. He stopped about ten feet from where I stood, stared at me for a minute, and then quietly moved away. He seemed to be looking for something because he sniffed the air all the time. Although it was a clear moonlit night, the trees cast shadows. I could only see that the animal was huge. I’ve never seen a cat that size. It was much larger than a lion or a tiger...but it was a panther.”

  “Are you sure?” the reporter asked, sounding somewhat skeptical, like the women were exaggerating the facts. A panther with sparkling eyes in a quiet state like Maine?

  “Son,” the woman replied angrily, “I think I know the basic difference between felines. I didn’t miss class that day.”

  “Uh huh!” Now the reporter sounded embarrassed. “The police recommended that people avoid this area. Don’t walk alone through the park until the animal has been captured. I’m Paul LeFleur, direct from South Portland.”

  “Just what we need...an over-developed pussy prowling the city. You brought it with you, right?” Carmen laughed, setting a pitcher of iced tea on the table.

  “Ha! Ha! Very funny,” I said.

  * * *

  The work days that followed were hard. It took a while for my muscles to get used to the drudgery of my new routine. Worst of all was the back pain, but I was determined to ignore it. I had youth on my side. Plenty of other people had been doing the same job their entire lives and never got tired or called in sick. Why should I be different? Did I consider myself a damn princess? No! In fact, I had an aversion to people like that.

  The days went by fast. I was happy to have a job and a roof over my head. I felt like Carmen and I were becoming good friends. She was always cheerful and talkative, which made up for my silence. On the other hand, in my silence, Carmen discovered the essential quality of a listener. We got along well. I listened to her vent about the fights she had with her boyfriend—a guy two years younger than her who worked at the marina. I offered encouragement, but nothing more because I’d already noticed that Carmen was the kind of girl who didn’t like being contradicted—especially when it came to her romantic relationships. She listened to what she wanted to hear. If you confessed what you really thought of her boyfriend, she wouldn’t like it one bit.

  Taking these small precautions, not exposing myself to unnecessary problems or situations, everything went very well, until that first weekend when Carmen decided I should revive my love life. She dragged me to a rave party that was swarming in a place situated on the outskirts of Portland, one that her boyfriend frequented—yet another reason I didn’t like it.

  Being there was real torment for me. I hated parties, but Carmen felt hurt, even angry because of my constant excuses to avoid going with them, so I agreed to make my debut at a rave party the following Saturday. I will live to regret that decision until the day I die.

  That night ended with me dead tired, deaf (because of very loud noise level), and sandwiched between three drunks inside a smelly car—Carmen, her boyfriend, and the “blind date” guy they brought along for me.

  When Carmen and her boyfriend started necking in the front seat, my blind date followed suit. His breath smelled like the whiskey he’d been drinking and I couldn’t stand anymore. I pretended to be sick and jumped out of the car. My relief was short-lived because the contender to my “TB#1”—temporary boyfriend—also jumped out of the car and was calling me with a thick-tongued voice, slurring his words. To get away from him, I decided to go back into the nightclub we’d just left.

  You know the expression, ‘If it weren’t for bad luck, I’d have no luck at all’...well, I’d have opted for “bad luck” because as I made my way back inside, who should appear to totally ruin my night—Simon Cridder. He blocked my way. I automatically stepped back, but even from that distance away, I could smell his bad breath. It was no better than that of Carmen’s drunk friend.

  “Excuse me?” I said, trying to sound annoyed. I tried to sound self-assured, but I think he realized how intimidated I was by his size and his indecent leer.

  Cridder crossed his arms over his enormous pectorals and gave no indication that he was going to let me pass. His smile was predatory when he looked down at me.

  “What’s the matter, baby? You running away from your date?”

  Yuck! So he’s been watching me. It’s time to try a different strategy!

  “No, I think I drank too much and I’m sick as hell!” I opened my mouth, forcing myself to salivate in a grotesque way. “I think...I’ think I’m gonna puke!” Immediately, I threw myself at him.

  Cridder quickly got out my way for fear that I would empty the entire contents of my stomach on his clothes. Taking advantage of his surprise, I ran like Ricochet Rabbit to the ladies room without looking back.

  “Hey!” I could still hear him yelling.

  I slammed the door behind me and breathed deeply several times. Facing me, reflected in a large mirror decorated with tiny lights like a cabaret dressing room, was a ridiculous figure looking back at me with wide eyes. It was hard to admit that I was looking at myself. I felt like the unluckiest girl of the earth. Of all places, I had to find Cridder there!

  Calm down, girl. Think positive! Be careful or your UFO will be back to attack you again.

  Wow! I hadn’t noticed it before, but a lot of time had passed since I’d had any weird dreams or hallucinations. The fatigue of my new job helped me sleep the sleep of the dead. In other words, no more nightmares!

  I moved slowly to the sink, thinking about this for a moment. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and then splashed water on my face to calm myself down, but all I managed to achieve was smearing the makeup that Carmen had forced me to use.

  “What am I doing here?” I mumbled to myself.

  “Ah, there you are!” Carmen said, making her way unsteadily into the bathroom. “Do you feel better?”

  I felt that she was upset, probably because she’d had to leave her boyfriend in the car.

  “Yes,” I said.

  “So, let’s go.” She quickly pulled me out the door.

  The music was so loud that it shook the walls. I don’t know why the light bulbs didn’t burst like when the opera tenor or soprano reached the fateful note. My ears were unaccustomed to such noise. The pain was horrible. It was incomprehensible that anyone would think this was entertainment, but people were cramming themselves onto the dance floor as if they were loving it. I was astonished at the way as their bodies suggestively entwined. Colored lights nervously flashed on them and throughout the club. I looked around, distracted by the noise and the lighting. My eyes finally came to rest and I could clearly see someone staring at me from across the room—Simon Cridder.

  * * *

  On Monday, I received my work schedule for the entire week. I was dismayed because I would have to work the night shift. Carmen gave me some recommendations about working the night shift. She said that two employees were assigned for this schedule. I felt relieved to know I would not be alone.

  My shift began at 10 p.m. after the store closed. The staff access door was always locked. The key card was my responsibility even though had to work with another employee. There would be two guards at the guardhouse, watching everything on monitors
which received images captured by cameras inside.

  “It won’t be so bad,” Carmen said. “After you restock the shelves and clean the floor, the rest of the night will be easy. You’ll be able to snooze in the employee’s lounge or watch TV, if you’d prefer to do that.”

  “Cool!” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but the truth was that I felt unaccountably nervous—not because of the work, but because the store would be virtually deserted at night.

  Earlier, I’d met Stan at the diner near the store. He was the only colleague that I met outside of work other than Carmen. Too bad he was so shy. If he’d invited me to leave with him, I would have had an excuse not to go to that damn rave party with Carmen and I would have avoided the unpleasant incident at the nightclub. Fortunately, my curiosity about the virtual world brought us together. Stan had proven to be a great teacher and in his spare time, he helped me a lot with my interests.

  He gave the waitress his sandwich order and then handed me a small object that he called a USB flashdrive.

  I’d mentioned to him that I wanted to download some interesting files from the Internet and he suggested a USB flash drive as an alternative. Now I was face to face with that strange little device. Stan quickly explained its purpose, how to use it, and its storage capacity. I didn’t expect him to give it to me as a gift when he said, “You’ll be surprised. I found everything that you asked for in your wish list—even the prints and photos. Enjoy!”

  “How did you fit everything on here?” I expected him to burn a CD or DVD.

  “Mel...eight gigabytes is space that never ends. Look, I almost filled your new flash drive. I took liberty of adding some songs for you pass to your MP3 or iPod in the future.

  Of course I liked music, but my preference would seem pretty weird to others. (I wanted TV series openings and closing credits of films, but Stan didn’t need to know about my oddities.

  “Yes, because you’ll need an iPod soon. It’s time to correct your ‘digital illiteracy’.”

  I laughed. So I’m a digital illiterate! It’s true, I knew so little of these matters. MP3, MP4, MP7 were just letters and numbers to me.

  “Oh, you must have had to work hard to find all this. How much do I owe you?”

  “Nah! No way!” He laughed. “You owe me nothing! I love to surf the Net. I even learned a few new, interesting ways to look up your things.”

  “Thanks!” I said, laughing with him.

  “Did you know there are communities that discuss the themes that fascinate you so much?”

  I stared at him. “Really? I heard that social networking members only chat with folks like themselves.”

  “That’s a myth. You can find anything on the Net if you know how to search. You know, Mel, people say that the Internet teaches young people nonsense, but in my opinion, it’s not good or bad. The use you make of it is what changes everything. It’s just a tool, like any other. The person must have a good head to use it. They must think critically and not believe everything they find. Have you ever participated in any community?”

  I shook my head ‘no.’

  “In fact, the orphanage’s computer was so old that I had no ability to access most websites. Others were blocked. The only place where I had a little more freedom to navigate was at school.”

  “If you want, Mel, I can teach you how to use some cool tools. You can post your stuff, you can come up with a blog, set up a panel to create mailing lists, even publish your drawings! Anyway, the network provides several features. You could make money from it and extra income is always welcome. This is what I do on my own once in a while.”

  He smiled and gently pushed a lock of my hair behind my ear. “I’ll let you use one of the department store’s computers some time, but you have to do it outside of business hours. My boss can’t know about it,” he said. “Deal?”

  “Deal!”

  I was very excited just imagining the possibilities he’d mentioned. It was nice of him to teach me to explore them. I didn’t know what he intended to gain in return. Again, my suspicions assailed me.

  Shut up, girl! Stan is a nice guy.

  I really wanted to believe it.

  4

  HORROR MOVIE

  It was about quarter to ten when I walked past the security guard shack in the parking lot on my way to the “Employees Only” entrance. The mall cops greeted me and I nodded. I didn’t want to talk with Cridder’s subordinates. I held my access card tightly in my hand to avoid any incident during the short walk between the entrance door and the service elevator.

  The corridor was dimly lit. The overhead light fixture was buzzing, indicating that the bulb needed to be replaced. I thought I’d forgotten to lock the door behind me, so I backtracked a few steps to test the knob. I had locked it, so I could breathe easier while I making my way to the elevator. The doors opened quietly and I stepped inside, looking around for the control panel. I pressed the button for the third floor and waited for the elevator doors to close.

  The soft background music distracted me. I tried to guess the name of the vocalist, but couldn’t. The doors opened. I stepped out into a hallway that overlooked the merchandise storage area. Some lights were on and the same background music was blaring from the intercom speakers at a louder volume. This meant that some sectors were still operating while staff members were gradually closing things down for the night. It wasn’t long before only the small central core of the shop remained lighted.

  The store was like a mausoleum at night—very different than working the day shift. I was so distracted by the difference in the environment that I was startled when one of saleswomen crossed my path as she headed to the elevator. Of course, I was just another cleaning girl, but it seemed like she didn’t even notice me!

  Cleaning girl? Suddenly I remembered that I’d forgotten my cleaning supplies and needed to go back downstairs to get them. I retraced my steps to lower floor, trying not to scold myself for making the mistake.

  When I returned armed with mop, brush, soap, bucket, and plastic garbage bag, I noticed that the background music had ceased. The silence of the enormous area was eerie. I shuddered, but then got right to work.

  Even though I had checked to make sure that Simon Cridder was not working the night shift, something told me that he always had eyes and ears here even when he wasn’t on the premises. Paranoia, I know, but there were surveillance cameras installed at strategic locations throughout the store which he could use to spy on me. I just wanted to finish my work quickly and then hide. Unfortunately, I couldn’t do that as there was at lot of merchandise in disarray. I found pillows that belonged in the bed-and-bath section abandoned on the shelf designated for pet products. I gathered up several toys that belonged in the ground floor toy department and set them near the main elevator and then returned to inspect the aisles. After removing anything that would hinder my progress, I began mopping the floor.

  Twenty minutes past midnight. I was almost finished. All that remained was the men’s room. Yuck!

  I heard a noise, something sliding down, followed by a sharp clink. I craned my neck to peek around the tall merchandise shelves. I saw no one, but then I noticed that the elevator’s up/down indicator arrow was flashing. It felt like my heart leapt out of my chest when a harsh, metallic roar sliced through the stillness. Chills ran down my spine. I forced myself to walk to the panoramic window overlooking the main floor, letting my eyes scour the dark landscape. The sound seemed to come from the woods beyond the parking lot.

  The roar was not repeated, so I convinced myself that it was just my imagination running wild. When I turned around, there he was, standing in the hallway, completely immobile. His arms were folded across his enormous chest in a relaxed, yet threatening posture. Simon Cridder. The face of a predator.

  I didn’t move, but I subconsciously clutched the handle of the mop so hard that felt pain in my fingertips. I didn’t ask the classic stupid questions that the girl in the horror movie always asked just before being attac
ked or mutilated and chopped into pieces. What do you want? What are you going to do to me?

  Instinctively, I knew what he wanted. What I needed now was time.

  “So...do you work the nightshift too?” I said, trying to seem natural.

  He smiled. I thought he wouldn’t respond, but he surprised me when he replied. “Pays better...time and a half. I replaced Harrison today.”

  “Oh...” Now what? “Hey! Did you heard the roar out there?” I asked, stupidly pointing to the window behind me, without take my eyes off him.

  Cridder laughed and scratched his chin. “Uh huh... nice try. In fact, you’re very good with distractions. You’re not sick this time, are you?”

  “Well, now that you mention...”

  “There’s no escape...nobody to stop us, honey.”

  I swallowed, but something came to my mind. My voice sounded more confident than I felt. “Actually, there is...” I said, pointing to the security cameras.

  He laughed. “Who? Peter and Jackson? They even made a bet...”

  “Bet?” I squeezed the mop handle, preparing for the worst. I startled myself when I backed into the shelves.

  “Yeah...about the color of your panties,” he replied with an evil smile, like the character in “Tales From the Crypt.”

  I don’t know if fear gave me strength, but that’s what it must have been. I’d heard about weaklings who in time of need had moved an object ten times heavier than their own body weight. Later, I gave myself the benefit of the doubt, thinking about how I’d accomplished such a feat. All I could think of was how to give myself an edge—one extra minute to get away. With all my strength, I pulled on the upper merchandise shelves. At first, the mobile display leaned toward us and I thought it wasn’t going to budge, but suddenly everything fell directly onto Cridder’s head and knocked him to the floor. The crashing sound echoed throughout the store.