13

"This video was damaged when I took it out of the case! You owe me a refund and another copy of this film."

William stood at the counter, rubbing his forehead wearily out of habit rather than pain. The odd customer that came here was a real jerk and they would damage the tapes without telling the store, so that an unnecessary moment like this happened.

An older woman in her mid forties was complaining about the damaged copy of "The Rescuers" that she'd rented. She had short blond hair that would have been going grey had she been a brunette. Wrinkles and crow's feet danced around her eyes and her perfume was more than a little strong. She could have been taken right out of "Mean Streets", or any of those classic films about New York.

Goddamnit, but this annoyed the crap out of him.

Being the boss, Milo took the issue in stride, "Madam, I will be happy to give you your refund here." The old man took a fold of dollar bills out of the cashier and put them into the woman's waiting hands.

"And my copy of the film?" The woman curled her lips in imperious demand, as if she was an empress in ancient China demanding the heads of her enemies. William shook his head at that comparison in silent mockery of his own messed up imagination.

Milo hesitated, "I'm afraid to say that I do not have another copy of this film in my store..."

The woman was incredulous, "Are you saying that your store has only one copy of a children's film? My boys want to see this film! I've been up and down all the damn stores in town, and nobody's got a damn copy!"

Suddenly a thought came to William's mind, a wonderfully evil thought that would solve the dilemna here but put the issues at someone else's door. William had seen the film too, with Alex and his sisters. One of them had suddenly needed to go to the bathroom, and so Alex had angrily paused the film to take her to the bathroom. What they hadn't seen, was a shot so surprising that William had fallen off his seat in astonishment. Before Alex and his sisters got back into the room with new snacks, William had taken the film and played it forward a few frames before pausing it again. He hadn't told anyone what he'd seen, but maybe now was the time to use it to shut this disgruntled woman up.

"If I may add, madam, the film is a tad inappropriate for your children. There is nudity in the film."

"WHAT?" Milo and the woman remarked, shocked.

"If I may say, there is a moment where the main characters are flying past these buildings and there is a naked woman in one of the windows."

The woman looked outraged, "How dare you make such shit up!"

William shrugged humbly, "I'd show you, but that would be insulting, and besides, the one copy we have is no longer working as you have pointed out."

The woman looked at Milo with suspicion, "Why didn't you know about that?"

Milo shrugged, improvising quickly, "I haven't seen the film myself, I was not told of this by the people who give me the films to distribute! I suggest you inform them."

"Fine! I will!" The woman left the store in a huff.

Milo stared at William in surprise, "Good God, how did you make that up so fast?"

William laughed, "I wasn't making it up, Milo. See for yourself when you get another copy."

"" "" "" """" """ """ """ "" """ ""

The headaches occurred less and less frequently as William's mind began focusing on his work at the video store. Before, he'd had many hours with which to fill his mind with questions on his father and his past, and he'd spent his time investigating those facts, but now he didn't even have time for a movie.

Milo, having sub-worker at last, seemed fully intent on keeping William busy. There were moments, where William would wake up early in the morning, slopping down a meagre breakfast, and he would wish hateful things on those who were making him work like this, even though he had to continue telling himself that it was his idea.

Of course, when Milo did pay him his salary, William had nothing but cheerful thoughts for the dear old fellow. It felt great to have this money to save up for later on. Alice set up a savings account for him at one of the banks in New York, and each pay day would add to the earnings.

The ironic thing to having this extra cash and the one-free rental deal was that William had very little time to enjoy these benefits. He didn't even hang out with Alex the whole week. He hadn't heard from him in ages.

"" "" "" """ """ "" "" "" "" " "" " """ ""

Milo sighed, "Well that's taken care of. I doubt she'll come back in a while though."

William shrugged, "Who cares. She wasn't a good customer anyway."

Milo frowned at the surly tone in William's voice but didn't say anything. After a week of employing this kid, he knew that William's opinion had some resonance.

William began shuffling through returned video tapes in the return bin. One of them suddenly looked very familiar.

He picked it up. He recognized it instantly, and smiled. It was a good film, one that he had seen several times.

He quoted it out loud, "Poor Raymond. Poor friendless, friendless Raymond. He was wearing his medal when he died."

"What did you say?"

William turned around, surprised by that tone of voice. Milo had gone still, staring at William with a very curious air.

"It's, from "The Manchurian Candidate". You know, that film with Frank Sinatra," William answered with a bemused tone, surprised at the level look he was given.

Milo slowly nodded, "Right... yes, of course." He snorted, "That damn Yank couldn't act his way out of a paper bag. Playing KGB assassin, eh? Pfah!"

William looked away, took the tapes out of the return bin, and began putting them away on the shelves, wondering what Milo found so strange about it all. And what was more odd was that Milo had gotten something wrong about who Frank Sinatra had played in the film. William laughed; even movie buffs made mistakes sometimes.

""" "" """ """ "" """ "" "" " "" " "" "

The rest of the day went slowly, with a few customers coming in once in a while. William was kept busy by Milo who had become far quieter now than before. Maybe he was just in a bad mood or something.

William didn't really notice. He just wanted to go home and get some sleep. He had this weekend off, though Milo had told him earlier that he may be called in to do extra shifts. William expected that even Milo must be feeling pretty guilty about that, even though William would be earning more.

It was finally the end of the shift though. William headed over to the counter and handed his keys over to Milo, "Well, hope you have a good weekend."

Milo nodded, "You're not taking any videos with you?" He sounded surprisingly neutral, as if he was waiting for what kind of answer William would give.

It actually hadn't occurred to William to take a video, but he suddenly felt annoyed. The old sourpuss just had to be a stick in the mud? Well screw him then. William knew which film he wanted to get. For some reason he wanted to bug Milo. And he remembered the scornful remarks he'd made of Frank Sinatra's wonderful performance in a great film, so he went to the mystery section and got the film tape out.

Heading back to the counter, William handed Milo the tape and smiled evilly, "But now, we have come almost to the end. One last step. And then when I take power, they will be pulled down and ground into dirt for what they did to you. And what they did in so contemptuously underestimating me."

A flash went through Milo's eyes- fear, it was fear, William thought- and in another half-whisper, he called out, "What was that?"

William's smile faded a little, "It's just the movie quote!" He raised a mocking eyebrow, "You feeling okay, Milo? You should get some rest this weekend."

Milo nodded slowly, "Sure. Yeah I think I will... You go on now, Will. Goodbye." He sounded bitter; still annoyed about that movie thing, William thought. Communists must treat "Manchurian Candidate" like garlic or something!

William headed out. On Fridays, the store closed at its latest for some reason. As if anyone was going to come rushing in to get a movie at this time. William's watch read 11:12 PM. Great. Another late night to have to sneak into the house.

At least there weren't many people on the sidewalk. William headed down the block to wait for the bus.

The bus was set to come in fifteen minutes, William noticed from the board. He just needed to kill time.

To amuse himself, William began singing songs under his breath for the kick of it. He knew some of the new ones being played on the radio these days, and since nobody seemed to be around to notice, William kept going.

He checked his watch again. 11:29 PM. A minute more. William resumed his rendition of Billy Joel's hilarious take on changing music.

What's the matter with the car I'm driving?
Can't you tell that it's out of style?
Should I get a set of white wall tires?
Are you gonna cruise the miracle mile?
Nowadays you can't be too sentimental
Your best bet's a true baby blue Continental.
Hot funk, cool punk, even if it's old junk
It's still rock and roll to me.

William mimed a drum set being used before continuing,

Oh, it doesn't matter what they say in the papers
'Cause it's always been the same old scene.
There's a new band in town
But you can't get the sound from a story in a magazine...

William would have gone on, but a fist suddenly slugged him right in the stomach.

William gasped for air, bending forward over the impact.

A pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him upright, and through watery eyes, William saw a large figure standing in front of him, with a kind of mask that bank robbers and winter walkers wore all the time. The man drew his fist back for another punch. William gasped again, trying to scream.

He couldn't even move away as the fist crashed into the side of his face. It hurt even worse than he imagined it would, and he barely had enough air in his lungs to yelp out in a pathetic gesture of pain. The right side of his face felt like it was on fire, while the pain in his stomach had made his legs weak.

"Just finish it," a dark whisper came from the guy standing behind William, "Slit the son of a bitch's throat!"

"No, wait!" William managed to moan, "I got money! Take it, please!"

The man in front of him had already pulled out an old switchblade, "Oh yeah? Is that right? And what we supposed to do when you report us to the police?"

William stared at the knife, shaking. He felt something near his eye swelling up and he knew the tears pouring down his face weren't just from the pain. He was terrified, so scared...

Suddenly a flash of light shone in his face, and he had to close his eyes because of it.

The man holding him suddenly swore loudly. The knife holder turned around in surprise.

William opened his eyes again, and realized it was the bus, just starting to pull in.

William didn't want to wait for it to get there. He had seen the knife, and he knew these two had no qualms over killing him. He got up and hurried off, running as fast as the pain in his gut allowed him to.

The shock and adrenaline however seemed like cold water shooting through a faucet as William hurried past closed up buildings. He could hear the heavy footsteps behind him, and the curses of those men trying to keep up with him.

With his last breath he screamed at last, a piercing cry in the night, "HELP! HELP!"

He wanted to collapse, his arteries and veins seeming to pump acid now. His body was screaming for him to lie down, but he knew he was a dead man if he didn't keep going.

In the corner of his eye he saw lights in upper floors go up, and heard a woman scream as she looked outside her window.

"POLICE!" went the call down the street, and as he turned another corner, William heard the footsteps lessen, maybe because the two punks were wondering if it was worth chasing this one victim. William didn't even stop; he just kept running.

Finally he couldn't hear their steps anymore. He forced himself onward, but he chanced a look behind him. His breathing coming out like an old elephant's, he whipped his head around to see if they were still there.

No one.

William wanted to sob with relief when he felt himself trip. As he turned back around, he fell against the hard pavement; right on the same side of his face that had just been punched.

Pain shot through his body again, and William wondered if he'd die from this. He tasted blood in his mouth as he tried to get up. His legs buckled and he just lay on the sidewalk, taking in oxygen even as he whimpered feebly.

"Hey kid! Are you okay?" A shocked voice cried out.

William looked up to see who it was, and even in this moment of panic, fear, and shame, he recognized the person in front of him from that one day not too long before, which now seemed like ten years ago in a whole different city.