Time is running out for me and fast. My life is not my own anymore, it belongs to those around me. Whatever dreams I had are out of reach, but I still have a chance to help those around me. It may sound morbid to say all this, but it is the happiest I have felt in a long time. My purpose is not to fulfill my selfish desires but to help those I care about fulfill their pure desires.
I gave my wife a child, my son a future, my parents a home, and my sister a car. I am ready, but not before I shed some light on something that’s hiding in the darkness. The Lurk.
I work in a children’s toy store, a small one. A niche place stuck between a florist and your average gas station cornershop. I mostly sell the cheap plastic stuff that’s good for maybe a few days before it’s broken, lost, or forgotten. Small plastic cars, sticky hand whips, those Halloween masks with the cheap rubber band.
The place does surprisingly well. I guess novelty items never go out of fashion.
The owner, Barry, decided one day to update the stock with items a little more pricey. Foam swords, knockoff Legos, and I mean real knockoffs, not Megablocks. Also kiddy books, the ones that are four or five slabs of thick cardboard glued together that tell you a story about a little elephant who has the flu, or a monkey who got caught stealing a banana.
I helped Barry stack the stuff on a shaky table.
“Don’t smoke, the smell sticks to some of the toys,” I said, snatching the cigarette. “It pisses off the parents.”
“Right, right,” Barry muttered, lugging a box over to the table.
Barry took a boxcutter and ran it through the tape towards himself. He cursed as he nicked his thumb, sticking it in his mouth and sucking it while he unpacked the box with his free hand. The box contained those cardboard books.
“Put them at the back of the store,” he told me.
“Yeah, I don’t think these books are going to be stolen,” I said.
“In case of rain. These things will swell up if you sweat too close to them.”
I laughed and did as he said, doing most of the work while he watched over me. Barry had this worried look on his face. I took it to mean he was worried about investing in toys a little less cheap. It was always that way with him. Worrying about the money more than the quality. I guess every businessman has the right to be concerned with that.
“I’m sure they will sell, man,” I said, shuffling behind the counter. It was a tight squeeze. You’d have trouble parking a bicycle in the store. “Been buying this kinda stuff for my kid for years now.”
“Are you going to be alright?” he asked. I looked up, surprised. He was worried about me. “I get that the gas station is where most of our business comes from, but-”
“It’s only an extra hour,” I said. “I’m not staying up that late, anyway. I’m always closing this place just as families pass through, on their way to the coast. That’s a lot of easy sales.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I know the type by now. If it doesn’t pan out this week, I will go back to the old schedule.”
“Won’t the missus be pissed?”
I waved the question away. My wife was always angry with me. It made no difference to me anymore, so the extra hour away from home was a gift, not a curse. Barry stuck around to chat for a little longer before finally leaving me alone. The first customers walked in, the day had just begun.
I won’t bore you with the details, just crying kids, sickly kids, and grubby kids with gas station ice cream melting in their hands. It was hell. It slowed down near quitting time, but if my hunch was right, it would pick up again soon. I just took a deep breath and prepared myself to smile.
I heard footsteps. Heavy footsteps.
The man who walked in was tall, old, and skinny. He wore a black coat and a diamond-patterned sweater underneath. His face seemed kind, but his eyes were sharp and beady. When he saw me, he nodded a greeting which I nodded in return. He then turned and faced the wall of toys, taking his time to browse them.
Old customers weren’t an oddity. Cheap toys were ideal for pensioners with grandchildren. I kept myself busy while he did his thing. He picked up toys, and plastic packets, examined them, and put them down. He reached the books and flipped through them, but put them down just as quickly.
He then picked up a gray book, opened it to the first page, and then closed it. He tested its weight and nodded, then walked over to me, placing it on the counter.
“Evening,” he said.
“Evening,” I returned, taking the book and flipping it over to see the price tag.
He handed me a few dollars and asked for the bag. I got his change before picking up the book and sliding it into the bag. Simple procedure, but I stopped for a moment to look at the title.
The Lurk.
The characters on the front reminded me a lot of the characters from Peanuts. Big heads, worried eyes. These three kids huddled together, looking out in every direction as if watching for something, but it was just them and the title on the cover.
The man cleared his throat. I snapped out of it and handed him the bagged book. He nodded and left. Never saw him again.
Still, my curiosity was rising. I walked over to the cardboard books and looked through them, but I didn’t find another copy of The Lurk. There wasn’t much variety either. I figured that Barry had bought an assortment of them and didn’t notice either. I shrugged, yawned, and went back behind the counter as a family came in.
Three kids, two teenagers, and one who had to be less than five years old. The mother watched the youngest, while the father scowled over the teens. Eventually, the older children got bored and left, their father right behind them. The mother came up to me with the youngest son and started putting toys on the counter.
I smiled to myself. Good money already.
As I was bagging the toys, I noticed a familiar gray. Another copy of The Lurk. I must have missed it before. The kid started looking at other toys, and the mother joined him with a sigh. I took the moment to pick the book up again. The cover was different.
The space the three kids were in was getting darker, but more defined. It was like they were in a tunnel, gradually getting darker behind them. The kid on the furthest left was crying and the one on the right seemed a little calmer. The third one in the middle was looking down the tunnel behind them, so I couldn’t see his face.
“That’s all,” the mother said.
“Are you sure you want this?” I asked her, showing her the cover.
“Yeah, it’s what he wants,” she smiled, barely looking at the cover.
She paid for the bag of toys and left. Once more, I went to the stack of books and went through each one. Nothing. I can say with certainty that the book wasn’t there. I stepped away from the table and looked outside. Darkness, a blue sky, and a few cars in the parking lot. Even the hum of distant traffic.
Laughter.
A shallow chuckle, short grinding laughs with small pauses. It sounded like a spray bottle, or those lawn sprinkler systems set to burst. Childish in nature, but not a child’s laughter. I thought it might have been one of the kids, maybe the family hadn’t left yet. Maybe I could get another look at the book.
I stepped outside and looked to either side. For a moment, I thought there was nothing, but I definitely saw movement. It was heading towards the corner gas station and it turned that corner quickly. More importantly, it was way too dark.
There weren’t any lights. The gas station was a 24-7 place, it should have been open still, but it was dark and silent. As were the other buildings along the road. Even the street lamps were out. It was a street entirely lit by the cool sky and the waning moon, except maybe the doorstop of the tiny toy shop. That singular light bulb was the only warm light.
I looked back towards the station, seeing something.
At the corner, peaking around it, was an odd shape with two large white circles. It was football-shaped, but larger and longer. The white circles the size of baseballs…blinked. The figure pulled back around the corner at the same time the table behind me shook. It was so close behind me, that I turned around quickly and saw the table swaying on its feet, coming to a standstill.
Resting on top of the books was another copy of The Lurk. I recognized the gray. I tentatively walked towards it, eyeing the counter and the back door. Whatever moved had to have gone through the back door, but I knew it was locked. That fact made me even more nervous. Still, I reached for the book and looked down at it.
Two kids were looking down the tunnel. The one in the middle was missing. In the darkness, two white circles, like headlights. The crying kid on the left had squiggly lines to indicate it was shaking, the calm kid on the right had his hands behind his back, fingers crossed.
I picked up the book. It was a lot thinner than the previous ones. It struck me then that I was seeing it page by page. Only one page was left. The second picture showed only the kid with his fingers crossed behind his back. The crying kid was gone. The white eyes were larger, much larger.
There wasn’t a pupil, even a speck, to tell me what it was looking at, but it didn’t look like the eyes were looking at the kid. It was looking at me.
I put the book down.
“Excuse me,” a voice said softly.
I looked to the side and saw a woman peeking around the corner. Pale, her hair in pigtails. She looked sporty in a tank top, with toned arms, and a healthy glow.
“Are you still open?” she asked.
“Uh…yeah, come in,” I said, shuffling behind the counter, taking the book with me and sliding it under the counter.
She smiled, walked inside, and started looking around for something. Having her in the store eased my nerves a lot. I didn’t realize how on edge I was until I breathed a deep sigh. I looked at my watch - it was dead.
“Long night?” she asked, putting a set of toy soldiers on the counter, among other plastic figurines.
“Yeah,” I smiled, forcing a little energy. “A little spooky actually. Actually, I can’t wait to get home to my wife.”
I gave her change and the toys in a bag. She took it from my hand, purposefully brushing her fingers along the top of mine. She met my eyes.
“You should wear your ring,” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “Or does that matter?”
“I…sorry. I-”
“Forget it,” she said without care and strolled out of the store.
The laughter returned, coming from right behind me. Sadistic, mocking. I turned around, spinning fast on the spot. I thought I hit my head for a moment, everything went dark, and then I heard the tinkle of glass hitting the floor. The lightbulb in the store had burst. I turned back to face the front of the store and saw the girl peeking around the corner again.
“Ah, don’t worry about it, that sometimes-” I began.
The head fell, hitting the ground with a dull thump. The hands remained curled around the corner, a dark shape slowly rounding it. The same wide shape from before, the white headlight-like eyes coming into view - locked onto me.
As the white discs came into view, the laughter drew closer, as if there wasn’t a wall behind me. Yet, my eyes were on the white discs. I couldn’t look away. The laughter was less mocking, more contently amused, fast becoming this sinister hum. I tried to move, but the only thing that would budge was my arm.
An image flashed in my mind.
I put my arm behind my back, just when its breath touched the back of my neck. I crossed my fingers and the sounds vanished. The head and eyes lingered a moment longer, then sank back around the corner. The fingers uncurled, making a bone-popping noise as if they were tensely clenched on that edge.
A moment later, an arm stretched around the corner, grabbing the head of the girl by one of her pigtails and dragging it away.
I waited a while longer. The streetlights came on, as did the other lights from the gas station. I saw someone pass by the dark toy store - they seemed normal enough. I kept my fingers crossed behind my back, using my free hand to lock the store up. I slowly felt a lot safer and when I got in my car, I was home free.
I didn’t fully calm down until I was holding onto my wife while she slept in my arms.
When I returned to the store the next day, The Lurk book was missing. The lightbulb was still broken - I replaced it. There was a red stain on the ground in front of the store, but water from the gas station employees cleaning the area washed it away.
I told Barry that I didn’t make a sale. Nobody wanted to buy a toy that late after all. I just didn’t want to stay that late anymore.
I still hear the Lurk’s laughter.