Young Underpaid Professionals

FICTION posted by Rio S.

The door chimes sounded softly. The shopkeeper looked up from her ledger and watched as the man peeked warily into the store.

“May I help you, sir?” she asked tentatively. Many people looked into her store but never bought anything. She smiled at the thought. She doubted those people would be willing to pay the price for her wares.

The man did not appear to have heard her. “Sir?”

He clutched at his heart. He thought the store was empty. Aside from the Open sign at the door, the shop did not indicate any sort of activity; it looked out of place in between a shoe store and a mini-mart. He looked at the lady behind the counter and blurted out, “You surprised me.”

“My apologies.” She smiled at him. She knew a sale when she saw one. “How may I be of assistance?”

He gaped at her. He had walked past this particular shop everyday but he had no idea what this particular shop was for. He was walking his usual route when curiosity finally overtook him. In a rare spurt of courage, he decided to take a quick peek. “Ah… Actually, I don’t know.”

The lady raised an eyebrow in amusement. Her store sign simply said ‘Everything’. “That’s all right. Why don’t you come in? You might find something you need.”

She watched as he opened the door wider. As he entered her little shop, she went around the counter to see him better. She studied him carefully like she studied all of her other customers. Her mother had taught her that, and she had become so good at it, she sometimes knew what her customers wanted before they said anything.

He was unshaven, with black semi-circle accents under his brown eyes. His loafers were worn to the ends of the soles; she could almost see his socks with holes in them. She studied the ring on his finger; dirt had clung to it over the years. She shook her head at the sorry state of the symbol.

The man barely noticed that he was being stared at. He was used to it; his co-workers stopped doing so when they realized he didn’t care anymore. He instead turned his attention to the shelves lining the store. The shop was bigger than it seemed. From the outside, where it was dwarfed by the livelier, more welcoming stores, it looked like a shoebox in between two chests.

The shelves were built from floor to ceiling and crammed with assorted knickknacks that didn’t seem to be in any order other than the shopkeeper’s fancy. He blinked at the box nearest to him. Upon closer inspection, he saw that they were actually two boxes taped tightly together. One box was yellow and seemed to glow a little, while the box taped to it had a bit of mold at the edges and looked to be coming apart.

He looked at the shopkeeper, who was leaning against the front of the counter. He appreciated that, he didn’t like it when salespeople hover next to him. He felt like he was being pressured to buy something. “Nice two-for-one you have here,” he said.

She nodded. “You simply cannot have one without the other.”

He leaned closer to read the label neatly written on the side of the yellow box. It said, “Happiness.” The scrawl on the other box said, “Unhappiness.”

He gaped at the labels for a long time.

After a sufficient time had passed, the shopkeeper said, “Yes, I sell that kind of everything.”

He turned his eyes on her in response. Then he blinked very fast and stared at the yellow box again. He looked closely at the other curios. A clear tube that did not appear to have anything inside it was labeled “Common Sense.” Paper label held together a ball of old almost-frayed yarn and “Patience” was written around it.

“My store sign says ‘Everything’ but really, I am one thing short of that. There is one thing you can’t buy in this shop sir, and that’s Respect,” the shopkeeper said ruefully. “Come to think of it, I’m running a bit short on Patience. Everybody seems to run out of that at crucial moments, don’t you think?”

The man looked at her in wonder. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

She smiled at him encouragingly. “What is it?”

“Can’t you sell me just the Happiness?” the man said, embarrassed. “I have a lot more Unhappiness at home than I care to have.”

The shopkeeper shook her head. “To have Happiness, one must have an equal amount of Unhappiness and vice versa.”

He moved around the shelves, feverish now. His languid pace was gone. In its place was a desperation the shopkeeper knew very well. “I-I think I’ll browse some more.”

The shopkeeper nodded kindly. “Take your time, sir.” She moved to go around the counter again to take her seat; some people took hours trying to find what they needed. She didn’t help unless the customers asked. Most people knew what they were looking for only when they’ve found it.

“A-ha!” The man plucked a black vial placed at the farthest end of the bottom tier of one shelf. He had gone down to his hands and knees to peek at the label. That was what he needed.

The shopkeeper looked up; she hadn’t even taken her seat yet.

“Here’s what I need,” he said, holding out the little black vial.

She didn’t have to turn around to know what he was buying. “Are you sure you want that, sir? I have Contentment, Acceptance, and Drive, too. Pride, Courage, Hope, Sense of Humor, Mercy. Anything.”

“I need this.”

The shopkeeper proceeded to take her seat behind the counter. “As you wish, sir.”

He suddenly remembered. “I might not have brought enough money with me.”

“I don’t need money. Like Unhappiness and Happiness, I accept only tit for tat. Equal amounts, fair exchange.”

“What do you want for it?”

“It’s free.”

He didn’t believe in things being given away. He always expected that there was a catch somewhere. “What do you mean free?”

She looked at him. “Well, it’s not actually free,” she said carefully.

“So what do I have to pay for it?”

“You don’t have to pay me for it. You’ll be paying somebody else,” she said, making a downward gesture with her pen.

“Huh.” The man thought for a moment. If he used the contents of the little black vial, why would he have to pay anything? He decided that it was worth to take the chance.

She lifted her pen to write the purchase on her ledger. “You’re sure, sir?”

“I’ll take my chances.”

She recorded the purchase, bagged the little black vial and closed the ledger. “Thank you for your business.”

He smiled and was gone.

Hello?

Hey, I’m short on some things.

Already? I just delivered some stuff there yesterday.

What can I say? Business is booming.

Yeah, right. It’s that stuff again, isn’t it?

Well, you know how enticing that stuff is. You’ve got to admit, it’s easy.

Really. If you didn’t give those things away, you’d be richer.

I don’t care for souls. And they aren’t really mine to take, are they?

What was it this time?

A tired man. They’re all tired, really.

Aren’t we all?

Yes, but why take a Way Out when all that’s really needed is a little Faith?

Faith? I didn’t know you were religious.

I’m not. I meant Faith in Oneself.

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