The Eye's Limitations Chapter 1

“Kevin, be sure to lock up once your done.” said manager Frankfort as he slid his coat on over his arms.

Manger Frankfort was the fifty-year old owner of the store who happened to be my boss. He was extremely short when compared to the average man and even though I had barely entered my late teens, I towered over the man who had decades worth of age credited to his physical appearance.

I was one of the few people aware that he was going bald because he kept this aspect of his age a secret by constantly wearing a hat to cover his head. Though, at times he jeopardized his secret being known when he kneeled down to pick something up and his loose hat would slide several inches from his head, creating a vulnerable moment for anyone who was able to carefully glance at him, to bare witness to his balding scalp.

“Sure thing, sir.” I said from my spot behind the counter. “I’ll lock everything up once I’m done.”

He nodded and then shot a quick glance over his shoulder to stare through the store’s glass display window that revealed the falling rain, gently touching the sidewalk outside. The rain had begun barely ten minutes ago, causing it to fall gently and soothingly, which was ironically neglecting that the news had foreshadowed a large thunderstorm to commence later on in the night.

“I would love to stick around to help you.” said Manger Frankfort while fascinating the dozens of large, white buttons lined vertically on the center of his dark coat. “But I really need to head home. My wife has been calling me all afternoon to give me updates on our sick son.”

“It’s perfectly understandable.” I said reassuringly. “I’ve done this hundreds of times. Trust me manager Frankfort, I can handle this.”

I said these words with such confidence that a stranger would be under the impression that I was the owner of the store. I had been working for Manager Frankfort for nearly four months now and after spending so much time working with him I had become so familiar with the store and the customers that I was convinced I could take care of the place on my own.

Though, despite the trustworthy reputation I had established with Manager Frankfort, he had never left me alone in the store, especially not alone to lock up the place on my own. He once told me that he thought of me as his son, so it wasn’t that he didn’t trust me, but I guess it was due to the fact that the opportunity to leave me alone had never occurred.

“Alright,” he said, after a moment of internal debating. “Have a goodnight.”

“You too.” I quickly added. “And I hope your son is feeling better.”

“Thanks.” he said as he opened the door, sounding a small bell that was designed to ring every time the door was opened or closed, and then he slipped out into the rain.

A moment later, I heard his car starting on the side of the building and the engine quickly began to fade as distance pulled the noises away. At that moment, I suddenly found myself alone for the first time in the tiny souvenir shop.

Manager Frankfort had owned this souvenir shop for nearly two decades after inheriting it from his parents. The shop was tiny in size, having a variety of items that ranged from clothing to candy to toys, and he had managed to compact thousands of different items worthy of being labeled as a memento of a trip, into the tiny building. The entire structure was made of maple wood that gave the interior of the building a log cabin appeal to it.

His store was located half a mile from the local train station on a desolate road that led into the country area where most tourists and visitors went to attend the year round County Fair. For the most part, his shop was stationed in an isolated area surrounded by trees and wide prairie fields. Despite it’s lonely location, Manger Frankfort was never short on customers because everyone that was heading to the County Fair was destined pass his shop and most stopped by to use the restroom or look around before purchasing a souvenir.

I removed the money that had been earned for the day from the cash register and began to count it the way I typically did every night. After denoting the amount earned, I opened the account book Manger Frankfort had given to me and began to document his earnings into the book. This was a familiar routine for me and I was surprised by how much my manger trusted me to handle his money. I guess he wasn’t joking when he said that he considered me to be his own son.

Once finished, I closed the register and grabbed the money and his account book and made my way towards the back of the store. I passed through several aisles, glancing at the books, toys, the stuffed dolls with frightening large black, buttons for eyes, the mannequins that were on display to show off shirts that had “I visited the County Fair in Southern Tennesse” written on them, and several other items. It was fun walking through the aisles of the empty store, but at times I couldn’t help question why people would spend money on some of the things in this store.

My eyes landed on the creepy stuffed dolls that were hanging from the high shelves. They were hand made, sew together, and stuffed with cotton, giving them a 19th century appeal, however I couldn’t understand how anyone could want something like that in their home.

I made my way to the back of the store and entered Manager Frankfort’s tiny office. I squeezed around his desk and found the safe he purposely kept unlocked until closing time stationed in its spot on the floor. After gingerly placing his money and the account book into the back of the safe, I closed the tiny vault like door and locked it firmly.

As soon as I rose to my feet, the chiming of bell from the front door echoed through the silent shop. I glanced at an old fashioned clock on the wall that had kittens decorating the frame of it. It read 10:38pm.

The shop was closed precisely at ten o’clock each night and a sign was even placed on the outside of the shop’s main door to inform customers that they were no longer permitted to enter. It was extremely rare to ever have a visitor this late, mainly because tourists weren’t usually out this late at night since there weren’t any street lights on display.

The road leading up to the shop, known as Ranger’s Road, was surrounded by the most ultimate form of darkness, making it impossible for the human eye’s vision to impenetrate through the darkness. Despite the locals being familiar with the area, many didn’t venture out into this area or down Ranger’s Road around this time of night. There weren’t any real threats, like the one’s in the city, however years of reading books, watching movies, or being told mysteries about how people vanished at night on the mile long road, it had trained most folks avoid going out this late at night.

I wasn’t sure who was entering the store at this time of night, but I was going to have to ask them to leave, especially because Manager Frankfort wasn’t here and the store was closed. I quickly made my from the back of the store and ventured through specific aisles that were concealed by many large items that allowed me to sneak a peek at whoever had entered without giving them a chance to spot me.

________

I peered around the edge of one aisle and my tensed body came to ease when I recognized the person standing in front of the counter. She stood patiently at the front with her hands resting on the counter on top of one another.

Her name was Emily Jonson and she was an extremely thin teenager who visited the store often. Emily was tall when compared to most girls her age, but despite her height, she still appeared to tiny due to her thin frame. The saying usually goes “as thin as a light pole”, however in Emily’s case, in order to describe her with those words, the saying would have to be converted into being “thinner than a light pole” in order to apply such a description to herself.

Emily was rather pale, as though she had been robbed of the sun for several years, to the point where her complexion was a few pigmentations away from being pure white. She had large, dark, watchful eyes that were boarded with thick eyelashes. Her eyes always appeared to be eternally sad and even in cases when she was smiling, there was always something solemn hidden somewhere in her eyes.

“Thank goodness it’s you Emily,” I said as I moved from behind the aisle. “I thought you were a burglar or something.”

She smiled at me as I made my way to the front of the store. Emily was a customer who visited the store often, though as strange as it sounded, even though I considered her to be a customer, she always visited, but she never really ever bought anything. Manager Frankfort, didn’t have any objection to customers who just stopped by and looked, but in most cases, those people came once and never returned again.

Emily was at the store, almost every day, sometimes early in the morning and other times right when we were preparing to close, but she never once bought anything. She always entered, said hello to me or Manager Frankfort, then would wander down the aisles to study everything until she made her way over to talk to me for several minutes.

I recall one time mentioning this to Manager Frankfort shortly after she had left and he laughed for several minutes.

“What’s so funny?” I had asked him.

“Oh, nothing.” he said with a cheesy grin on his face.

“But, doesn’t it bother you that she never buys anything?”

“The first time I ever saw that girl was the week you started working here. Now she comes here every day…I think she has her sight on something that can’t be bought.” he grinned.

“Wait…,” I said while pointing to myself. “So you’re saying she’s interested in…me?”

“Ah! You finally figured it out! I hope work is not the only thing that’s on your mind.”

It wasn’t until he had brought this to my attention that I realized that it was true. Emily stopped by the store every day, wandered the aisles as though it were simply a cover for her true intentions, and then she always, almost always, made her way over to me to talk with me.

It wasn’t too much of shock that she was interested in me because I was among the most handsome guys in my school, with my athletic build, long dark hair, olive complexion and heart breaking blue eyes (not that I’m bragging or anything like that) that most girls found irresistible. The part that had always been a mystery to me was trying to figure out where Emily was from. She certainly didn’t enroll in our school, otherwise I would have seen her or known about her because our school was so small everyone knew everyone, but at the same time, she was always here so she had to live somewhere nearby.

Whenever I tried to ask her about where she was from, she would always changed the subject or give very vague answers that discouraged me from questioning her further about it. At times, I thought she was poor, mainly because she always wore the same outfit every time she visited the store which consisted of long, black jeans, grey sandals, and a navy blue tank top.

Emily always wore a faded blue crochet hat that concealed her entire head. I was never certain what color her hair was because she always wore it tucked under her hat, refusing to reveal any traces as to it’s color.

“Hi Kevin!” she said eagerly, as I approached the counter that separated us. “Sorry about coming this late…something came up…” she looked away from me for a moment as though she were recalling something sad, then her eyes quickly lit up with joy. “But I really, really wanted to see you, so I came by.”

“I mean yeah…” I said slowly. “It’s no problem, it’s just Manager Frankfort doesn’t like customers in after closing hours.”

“Oh…I’m…sorry.” she lowered her eyes for a moment.

“But hey!” I said. “He’s not here right now, so don’t worry about it.”

“Really?” a smile quickly shot across the surface of her face. “Thank you! I won’t touch anything, or make any noise, I promise!”

“Don’t worry about it.” I allowed my eyes to run up her body from head to toe, then I realized. “Isn’t it raining outside?”

“Oh, um…yeah.” she said glancing over her shoulder at the window.

“But you’re not wet.” I said while observing her clothing. “Umbrella?”

“Yeah,” she said confidently despite my awareness that she wasn’t holding an umbrella. “It had stopped raining on the walk here, but I think it picked up a bit.”

“Oh, I see.” I said.

A short silence elapsed between us, causing Emily to stare at her feet as she shifted her weight between each foot and I glanced at nearby objects in the store, unsure of what to say. This was a typical outcome of our conversations. They often began very detailed and then would end in an awkward silence where we both were unsure of what to say next. Emily would usually say she had to go, but for some strange reason, I was convinced that there was something different about her purpose for being here tonight.

“Kevin…,” she said in a voice that was barely a whisper. She cleared her throat as though it were her attempt to try again in a much more confident tone. “Um…Kevin…?”

“Yes.” I said while making eye contact with her even though she wasn’t looking at me.

“Soon…I’m going to have to leave, but before I go…I want to ask you this question.” she then rephrased her remark as if to show how much more serous it was when she said. “I have to ask you this question. Do you…do you think I’m worthy of dating?”

After saying this, an apprehensive look crossed her eyes as though she immediately regretted saying it. She watched me carefully, refusing to blink as though she were afraid that the nanosecond gesture would cause her to miss something in my facial expression in reaction to her question.

The question was random, but it didn’t catch me off guard. I knew that at some point Emily was going to address her feelings for me, but I was just uncertain when. I had never really thought about her in romantic way mainly because, despite visiting every day, the longest we had ever spoken was for ten minutes and then she would rush away to leave.

It was as though destiny didn’t want me to answer her because as soon as I opened my mouth to speak the shop door flung open with such force that it banged violently against the wall. Lightning was beginning to flash outside as the heavy downpour of rain began to fall.

Our eyes were immediately drawn to the person who had chosen to make such a rowdy entrance into the store.

________

The rain was pouring heavily in the background, this time heavier than it had since the storm had originally begun.

Into the store stepped a man who was dressed from head to toe in a police uniform worn by most state troopers which consisted of tan khakis, a dark green jacket with his badge pinned visibly to the front, and a tan colored hat with a cow boy appeal to it.

This officer was your typical stereotypical state trooper with the upper athletic build and tall stature. He was in late forties and had a complexion that seemed to alter depending on his mood because at that moment the lower half of his face was pink from the cold rain.

The officer stepped in, closed the door behind him and walked a few feet towards us before stopping.

“Uh, hi.” I said uncertainly. “How may I help you?”

“Not now son.” he said in a thick southern accent. “Where’s Frankfort at?”

“He had to go home early.”

“And he left you kids here runnin’ his store, alone?”

“We were just getting ready to leave.” I explained. “We’re closing everything up.”

“Hm.” he said, and then began to internally debate to himself as though trying to determine whether he should say what it was that was on his mind. He apparently decided to tell us because he said. “Alright, but you kids listen here, make sure ya’ll lock up this place once ya’ll leave, ya here? Don’t stick around if ya don’t have to and just get in ya car and drive straight home.”

Emily exchanged a frighten glance with me as tension followed the trooper’s words. Anyone who heard him speak could distinguish that he was extremely serious, as though it were his way of secretly warning us in order to protect us from something dangerous.

Danger was a word that was almost foreign to anyone who lived in this area because our area was known to be extremely safe, mainly due to the fact that it was located in a place where the locals were brought up on strong morals and values and it was absent of all the crime and violence that most cities supported.

“Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, what exactly is going on?” asked Emily, shyly.

“There’s…” the officer’s voice trailed off for a moment as though what he were preparing to say might cause us to panic, therefore he changed this mind and simply said. “Nothin’ is the matter. Just do like I said and drive straight home and don’t linger about tonight.”

“We’re not kids you know.” I said boldly, choosing to overcome the submissive demeanor that I had previously held in front of the officer. “We might do just the opposite of what you just said unless you give us a reason why we shouldn’t.”

The officer shot me a bewildered look that pretty much said what-is-wrong-with-this-generation?-before glancing over his shoulder at the lightning that had chosen this moment to light up the night sky.

“Alrighty then, you kids think ya so grown to handle adult news, then I’ll tell ya what’s goin’ on.” he met both of our gazes as he spoke in a stern, nonchalant tone that was designed to frightened a person. “A few yards back a prison van crashed and one of the inmates managed to escape. We went out lookin’ for him, but with this rain and darkness, it’s not easy to spot him. This one guy…he was on the division of the mentally insane inmates so it’s important that we get him back because he’s not quite right in the head. He‘s extremely dangerous so if you spot him, don‘t approach him, don’t talk to him, call the police immediately! ”

“So…there’s some crazy killer running around out there?” I asked as the hair on the back of my neck began to rise.

“How did the van crash?” asked Emily.

“It doesn’t matter. Just be on alert and I want ya’ll to head home, now! I might even escort ya’ll home if- ”

The trooper’s walkie talkie that he had sitting in his pocket came to life as a voice began to speak through it on the other side. The officer picked up the walkie talkie, then glanced at us as though he were hesitant to leave us alone, and then he walked out of the store to speak to the person on the other side of the walkie talkie privately.

He spent several minutes outside talking on the device, before sitting his head into the shop informing us that something came up and that we wanted us to find our way home immediately. A few minutes after exiting the store, we spotted his vehicle vanishing down the street.

“Wow…that was creepy.” I said. “I guess he’s too busy to escort us home now.”

“I know, right? He seemed really disturbed about this guy.”

“Yeah, I don’t like it much, but I better do like he said and hurry and get out of here. I still have a fifteen minute drive home and I don’t like the idea of some killer running around out there in the darkness.”

“Me either.”

I walked from around the counter and began to make my way through the back of the store, shutting the lights off in the bathroom and in the back room. Emily trailed behind me, voicing her opinion on the news of the escapee. I turned off each of the lights in the back of the store, leaving only the main light on, and then I closed each of the doors leading to the bathroom and to my manger’s office.

Once finishing this routine, I found myself at the front of the store, removing my coat from the coat rack.

“You didn’t drive here, did you?” I asked Emily, after realizing that I had never seen her in a vehicle before, she always appeared to be walking.

“Huh?” she said as though she had completely forgotten about herself and her transportation. “Oh, um, no…I didn’t drive here.”

“Really? Do you live close by then? I can give you a ride, I don’t mind.”

“No!” she panicked and then said in a much more calm tone. “No, it’s fine. I can walk. I live very close by, but thank you.”

“How is it that you live close by and the nearest house isn’t at least fifteen minutes away?”

“Kevin…” she said slowly, while glancing at the clock on the wall. “I can’t go home…yet.”

I wanted to ask her why, but I reframed from doing it because she was staring at her feet and from the angel I was on, I could see tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes leading me to suspect that she would start crying if I further questioned her about it.

“It’s okay…if you would like…you can stay at my place. I’m sure my parents won’t mind. I mean, I’m their only child and I doubt that you make noise.”

“You’re home?” she said with disbelief. “Where you…live?”

“Yeah,” I laughed, due to the strange way she said it as though it were a foreign concept to grasp. “With my family and with all my things. I don’t live in the store, if that’s what you mean.”

Upon saying this, I was certain I offended her because she lost eye contact with me for a moment and began to stare shamefully at her feet. I internally sighed trying understand how this girl could be so sensitive and shy to the point where I had to gingerly select everything that I said to her.

“It’s a good offer, but I can’t…I really can’t. I’ll be fine, really, I know this area well.”

“That doesn’t matter.” I said firmly. “I’m not letting you walk outside by yourself, especially not after what that trooper said. It’s final, you’re staying at my place.”

I grabbed a hold of her arm and to my stunning surprise, her entire arm felt extremely light and I’m not exaggerating when I say that it felt as though it was as thin as paper. The second I touched her, she immediately snatched her arm away from me and staggered several feet backwards as though she were afraid that I were going to hurt her.

“Don’t touch me!” she shrieked. “Whatever you do…please don’t touch me! You can’t!”

“Um…you’re right…I’m sorry.”

A long silence unfolded between us and she was heavily breathing and even though I was standing nearly ten feet away from her I was certain that I could feel her racing heart beat. In my defense, I honestly did not believe that I had done anything wrong, but at the same time, I felt guilty that I had caused her to react the way she had.

Our silence was filled by the rumbling of the thunder from the sky. Emily looked up from the floor and stared at me for a moment. I was expecting her to explain her motivation for such a reaction or to perhaps scold me for laying a finger on her, but to my surprise she said something I wasn’t expecting.

“Okay, I’ll stay at your place.”