Zero to Zen in Ten
Yin and Yang symbol from Flikr Commons
Every week for the month of June I will post a flash fiction story in the genre of magical realism. Enjoy this week’s post!
From Zero to Zen in Ten
by Megan J. Wheless
Tim zipped through the grocery store on his skateboard.
“Get out of here or I’m calling the cops!” the manager yelled.
Tim disregarded the overweight manager, Glen, with his blue vest a size too small. He popped the front wheels of his skateboard off the floor and kicked the board into his hand, hopping over the roll of single pack Oreos on the floor. He snatched a pack of Flaming Hot Cheetohs and Red Bull that was on the top shelf of the cooler nearest the cash register. Then, he flipped off the security camera before he pushed his way out of the only public use door of the neighborhood convenience store.
Time leaned on his skateboard and pushed off with his right foot and began careening down the sidewalk, dodging a few pedestrians and laughing at the same time. He knew he should stop stealing from Glen’s store, but it was just too easy. Besides, school was out for the summer and there was nothing to do. His few friends had left for camp and his mom was working two jobs. His sister, Tina, worked at the beauty supply store down the street, and when she was home, she was too busy texting her boyfriend to pay attention to her little brother.
At the end of the street, Tim leaned on his skateboard to the right and rolled down the alley. Glen never chased him farther than a block before giving up. He hopped up on the pallets he had found behind the dumpster a few days ago and squatted down to open up his Cheetohs. The burning sensation of the powdery cheese crackled on his lips and tongue. He popped open the Red Bull and took a large gulp, only stopping to let out a huge belch. Tim laughed at his bullfrog self and rested his head on the mildewy wooden fence behind him. What he wouldn’t give to look at those dirty magazines he found hidden in the trash can. He had thought about saving them but it started to rain that day and he knew if his mom found them in his room he would be in deep trouble. When he came back for them the next day, they were gone.
Never mind, he told himself. He was going to get up the courage to ask out Lisa Jankowski when school started up in the fall. Maybe if he played his cards right he would get to second base with her. Tim had so many dreams for himself, but rarely acted on them. Why bother? He would ask himself late at night when he laid in his bed staring at the ceiling. It wasn’t like anyone in his family had many plans to get out of this shithole town, so what chance did he have?
Tim sat there on the rickety pallets feeling sorry for himself and didn’t see the scrawny racoon stick its head out of the dumpster next to him. Both were startled to see each other when the racoon crawled out of the bin and made a grab for the Cheetohs bag at Tim’s feet.
Instead of scampering away, the racoon hissed at Tim and then grabbed a Cheetoh and began nibbling on it. Intrigued by the racoon’s boldness, Tim carefully reached for the bag and shook out a few more of the savory morsels. The racoon flinched ever so slightly, then looked up at Tim with questioning brown eyes before scooping up another fried cheese stick. Tim laughed and felt an immediate connection to the wild, neglected animal. They both were bandits and fellow outcasts.
The racoon finished its midday meal and scrambled atop the dumpster and peered over the fence. Curious to know what his new friend was looking at, Tim got to his feet and leaned his neck and head over the fence. That’s when he saw it: a shiny, three-dimensional object the size of a quarter. Impossible, Tim thought. There were buildings on each side of the alley so the sunshine didn’t creep in. Tim couldn’t figure out what was causing the object to shine like it did. He wanted it in his hands. His imagination went into overdrive: it could be a gemstone or a new technology left by extraterrestrial beings. Whatever it was, he wanted it. No, needed it was more like it.
Right as he thought this, the racoon scrambled down the fence and covered the object with his grubby paws. It looked up at Tim and made a purring noise.
“Bring it here, little buddy,” Tim cooed. “It’s alright. I won’t hurt you.”
The racoon froze in midstance and stared up at Tim.
Tim shuddered as he made eye contact with the adorable, masked creature. He felt heard and seen by it somehow. Before he could react, someone or something spoke to him. “Greed is a poison that leads to suffering,” the voice said.
Tim was confused because although he heard the words in his mind, they didn’t sound like him. He looked away and shook his head then turned back around to face the racoon.
The racoon and the shiny object were gone. Disappeared. Impossible, Tim thought. There was no escape out of the alley except to go up the nearby building’s fire escape to the rooftop above or climb over the fence and leave the way he came in.
Where was the little devil? he wondered. I need, no want, that object, he rationalized. Then, he heard the voice again, louder this time. “Greed is a poison that leads to suffering,” it repeated. This time, the voice seemed to be an echo coming somewhere from within the alley.
Fear shot through Tim’s body. The voice repeated the phrase. Tim looked around to see who was speaking. Was it the racoon? Or did Glen finally decide to get back at him? Was it an extraterrestrial being sending telepathic messages? Beads of sweat pooled underneath Tim’s armpits. Whatever the origin of the voice, Tim knew what had to be done.
He climbed off the pallets and hopped back on his skateboard and sped down the alleyway. All the time he was being chased by the voice that now persisted like a rhythmic mantra or chant in every fiber of Tim’s being. He rounded the corner and dodged a few more pedestrians before he came to a stop in front of the neighborhood convenience store.
Glen was at the counter doing inventory. He dropped the pen in his hand when he saw Tim.
“Mr. Gloucester?” Tim began awkwardly. “I’d like a job. You don’t have to pay me. I’ll work for free.”