Unneeded

A young man stood behind the counter, staring at the whirling gusts of snow that swept across the nearly deserted Main Street. The weather warnings made him wonder at the necessity of keeping the place open. Still, he needed the hours since living still cost money. Dressed in a fashionable business suit, nearly an exact copy of the one on a nearby mannequin, Glenn pondered his life.

On days like this, foot traffic was non-existent. He could only adjust the shelves of expensive clothing and rearrange the ties to match the shirts on display for so long. After that, it became the tedium of staring out at the dreadful weather. He sighed to himself as he pulled out his phone for the hundredth time that afternoon.

I never started out seeking a soulless career as a salesman in a men’s fashion store!

The funnel-like wind brought in flakes of heavy snow as the narrow window lobby of the store opened to the ring of a bell. Glenn glanced over to see a huddled, coat-heavy pedestrian come into the lobby way, pausing, shaking and stamping his feet to knock off the snow. The man looked out the front door and Glenn suspected the person was just trying to get warm before heading out to the street again.

As he waited for the day’s first customer, Glenn noticed the few hardy souls wandering the sidewalks. The potential clients seldom bothered to investigate the big window showing several mannequins along with displays of the latest pants, shirts, and shoes. Smartly, they had their hands in their pockets and their eyes on the sidewalk. Unfortunately, Glenn had no company, either. The owner of the store was supposed to help him change out the insultingly dated Santa presentation in the other window today. As expected, the owner just stayed at home to let Glenn suffer the day of few sales and the long commute to his apartment.

Finally, fed up with looking at the winter wonderland outside, Glenn turned and walked back to his counter. He picked up his phone again, flipped through some screens, but nothing struck him as interesting. He went over to one display behind the counter and sorted the ties. Then he felt the stare of someone looking at him.

When Glenn turned to the doorway, his eyes widened suddenly. The man standing there stared at him with surprise and recognition in his expression. It was a man Glenn never had seen before. Not like he could forget some guy dressed entirely in black, from boots to pants to a leather trench coat. On top of his head, he had a strange black hat with a distinctive broad-brimmed, round-topped top. The fact that the man’s attire looked somewhat like an old-fashioned preacher if you took away the trench coat.

Strangely, there was no snow on his hat or coat, which puzzled Glenn momentarily. However, he immediately forgot about it as he felt a chill from the expression of recognition from the guy. The stranger’s face carried an extraordinary pastiness, a sick-room pallor better suited to nursing homes.

Definitely a stranger!

“Glenn Hickman, right?” The stranger smiled with his unnerving grin.

“Ah — yea, I’m Glenn — .”

“Glenn Hickman,” the man repeated. “Just the face I remember.”

Glenn could say the same thing. He had quite a face from the long, even nose, high, almost sacred cheekbones with almost no eyebrows to his nearly black irises. The stranger looked older than Glenn, but he knew he could never have forgotten this face.

The man came over while pulling off a black glove.

“I never expected to see you in Virginia, Glenn!” He offered a handshake, which the clerk reluctantly took.

“Yeah, it’s been a while,” he mumbled out while noticing the man’s chilly hand.

Glenn desperately searched his memory for some clue to the man’s identity. He decided that his odd visitor had him confused with another Glenn Hickman and was about to suggest a coincidence. However, the stranger immediately engaged him.

“How is your family, Glenn? I heard your mom was in the hospital.” The man asked with a sympathetic frown.

“All right, thank you,” he replied hesitantly. “Mom’s operation — ”

“Yes, I heard about that. She’s doing better. Out of the rehabilitation, I take it?”

“Yes.” Who, wait — how — did he?

“And your dad?” the stranger’s amused grin returned.

“Still on the cooperative board?”

How do I know him?

“Yes,” Glenn’s chuckle came out automatically. “No one dares suggest retirement with him. Thinks he’s indestruc…”

“Did you ever get Amber to quit calling you ‘Bucky’?”

Glenn blinked with the expression of a statue. It was impossible. No one but close friends and his family knew of his secret, embarrassing nickname. Two big front teeth made his life miserable as a kid before orthodontics corrected the issue.

The strange man chuckled again. His black eyes fastened on Glenn. The movement of the man’s unusually long white fingers as they spread wide on the top of the counter caught Glenn’s eye.