I’ve never been one to double check things. Most of the time I can’t even remember to check the first time. I tell you though, laying there with a bullet in my gut, boy did I fucking regret that.
+++++Night before it happened it was on me to close up shop. I work in a small convenience store called The Silver-Leaf. Don’t know why though, not a thing silver in the whole place.
+++++Before my boss left he had told me something that I needed to do, “Be sure and…check the…before you lock up.”
+++++I forgot what he said the second I heard it. But I just gave him a “Yes sir, thank you sir,” and he went on his way. The guy was always bitching about one thing or another, so I usually didn’t listen.
+++++After he left we got a couple more customers. One of them was real shady looking, like a surfer dude hooked on meth. He wandered around the store aimlessly, examining bottles of water like they were foreign objects. Then he came to the counter and put down a pack of gum. I scanned it.
+++++“That’s a quarter.”
+++++“Is it now?” He was staring at my eyes. The longer he stared the less human I felt.
+++++“Yes. Do you have a quarter?”
+++++“Let me…” He started digging around the pockets of his over-sized hoodie. “Check.” He pulled out a bunch of coins and dropped them on the counter. I counted them: three nickels, a dime, and seven pennies.
+++++“You can keep the pennies.” I handed him the gum.
+++++“No. That’s a donation.”
+++++“…Thanks.” Couple minutes later I locked up.
+++++When I got home my sister was tearing the place up. “Where the hell is my phone?”
+++++“How should I know. It’s your phone.”
+++++“Big help you are!”
+++++“Well-”
+++++“Shut up and just give me your phone!”
+++++“What?”
+++++“I need a phone I’m going out to meet Cindy for minigolf and I don’t know the directions.”
+++++“Just use a map-”
+++++“GIVE ME THE PHONE!”
+++++“Fine, Jesus Christ, Sally.” I pulled out my phone, she immediately snatched it then left. I fell asleep remembering I had forgotten something.
+++++I dreamt of the crash. Twisted metal and broken bones. What could life have been like if they made it? That question was always with me. I saw the backs of their heads, Mom’s long blonde hair and Dad’s short red curls. But just as I was about to see their faces one last time, the dream ended.
+++++In the morning I forgot there was anything to remember. It was a Monday so my shift was a long one. My boss showed up to say hello then shuffled on back out. I dealt with few customers that day. Mainly just people in search of a quick meal or a lottery ticket. Eventually the bum showed up.
+++++“Another pack of gum?” I asked, hoping he would just walk out. But no, he did the same routine. Walked around, stared at the refrigerator for a moment, then put down a pack of gum.
+++++“Well you know the price,” I said.
+++++“Yep.” He reached into his hoodie and I waited for the coins. Instead I got a loud bang and a .45 to the stomach. I fell down and watched the man empty the register. Then in a flash he was gone. I crawled across the floor and looked out the door. No one was there. I reached for my phone only to remember Sally had it.
+++++The store used to have a land line, but I told my boss it was a waste of money. I wished he had paid me the same courtesy I usually gave him.
+++++I needed to get someone’s attention fast. Outside the store was a parking lot. As I moved along the ground like a slug, a trail of blood following me, I thought on my mistakes. I pushed through the door and onto the sidewalk. I fell off the sidewalk and into the parking lot. A Prius nearly ran me over, stopping an inch from my head while three teenagers came out yelling. Then I remembered.
+++++The cameras. Before I passed out my thoughts were of that meth addled fuck getting high. He would get away with murder because I forgot to setup the new system.
+++++But that wasn’t the only thing I forgot. My whole life was full of forgotten lessons and ancient memories. Forgetting to apply to college. Forgetting my parent’s faces after the crash. Forgetting Sally’s birthday.
+++++The pain got worse when the teenagers picked me up and tried to put me in the prius. Then everything went away, the pain and the world around me. I missed my sister, I missed my boss, I even missed my minimum wage job. It was all going dark, then I remembered.
+++++Everything gets forgotten in the end.

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Joseph Stryker

Joseph H. Stryker is a writer of lowbrow fiction, usually of the crime genre. Born in 1994 in Laguna Hills, California. He now resides in Lake Elsinore, California on the other side of the Santa Ana Mountains. His stories can be found on Near To The Knuckle and Out Of The Gutter Online.

Latest posts by Joseph Stryker (see all)

• Harriet’s Handgun - November 27, 2018
• Blood, Bullets and Burgers - December 23, 2015
• Amateur Outlaw - October 20, 2015