Pretty Lights on City Trees

The pretty lights on the dead tree flickered for the ninth time that night. It was two days before Thanksgiving but the city decided to adorn the winter trees with lights in lieu of the ever expanding Christmas season. Only people so bored with life would count the times those lights flickered.

A lonely convenience store clerked watched in awe as two figures emerged from that one lonely tree. He was counting the times the lights flickered to alleviate the chronic boredom but he never expected anything extraordinary. He jerked his head a couple of times and wondered if it was a reflection from the big glass windows. He carefully lowered the volume on his computer and tried to stay balanced on the two plastic milk boxes he was sitting on. He looked around the store and realized it wasn’t a reflection after all. It was a bit of a relief but he was curious about those two figures. He tried to listen to their conversation but the faint sounds of the TV show he was watching and the freezer symphony were the only thing he could hear. Then the men moved away from the tree and the lights stopped flickering.

Just when he was about stand up the first door opened and he lost balance. By the time the two men opened the second door the clerk was on the floor struggling to get up. They looked like two regular guys from Romania. At least that’s what the clerk thought when he first saw them, from the floor. They both had wild beards and heavy jackets, like Viking pirates. The clerk kicked the two milk boxes and attempted to say something.

“Ehh he… uhm… llo… hello, how can I help you?” said the sore employee.

“We’re looking for Shweppes,” said in an undetermined accent the fatter one of the two men.

“Hmm how’s specific, is that the ginger ale? You know, I think we have it. The drinks are in the back,” he nervously replied and pointed at the back. He waved his finger trying to tell them it was in the back and to the right but he gave up after both of them broke eye contact with him. The fat man went to get the drinks while the other one browsed the candy. His jacket looked liked it was made out of real animal skin.

The clerk could smell the dead animal the man used to make his jacket or so it seemed. He tried to keep an eye out for any cars or anyone passing by but it was as if the city was dead. Then another unexpected thing occurred, the lights on that strange tree flickered again. Two more figures appeared and the clerk was holding on to the barcode scanner as if it was a life line to reality.

A thump startled the clerk and he kicked the milk boxes a bit more making a ruckus behind the counter. The two men looked right past the clerks face. Nine small bottles of Shweppes were neatly arranged in the red grocery basket the fat man laid on the counter.

“Ehh… anything else?” he said to the bearded Viking pirates.

Neither of them responded but for a second the fat one looked at the single pick Tootsie Rolls.

“Do you need a bag?” said the clerk as he scanned each of the bottles.

“Yes,” it was a solemn yes, the kind you hear guilty men say on courtrooms.

After a couple of seconds they handed him a crisp hundred dollar bill and told him to keep the change. It wasn’t a suggestion, it was an order. The clerk said nothing as they left the store. The second set of figures was still under the tree. The lights flickered like crazy and the clerk was quickly trying to reassemble his makeshift milk box stool. Then the doors opened again and in came two more guys. They had long beards but both of them had shorts on. One of them had a shirt that read: “Call me Santa, I don’t care”.

“Kid, you look like you’ve seen a ghost,” the Santa guy said to the clerk.

“I don’t know, am I… I mean… do I,” he replied.

“That’s cute kid. You can see the flickering and the appearing. It’s like magic, out of a Harry Potter book right?” the Santa guy said.

Then five more figures appeared under the tree. The lights looked like they were about to burst. The two Romanian looking guys joined the party of shadows just before the clerk realized what the Santa guy was talking about.

“Uhm… excuse me?” said the clerk as he clung one of the milk boxes.

“You people are turning our heaven into hell…” the Santa guy rambled before the other guy stopped him.

“Lawerence, he doesn’t know and we should leave it that way,” said the second man with a faint British accent. Before the clerk could say anything about the comment Santa guy, Lawerence, dug into his pocket and placed a coin in the counter.

“Cleveland my friend, even if we wanted we couldn’t keep this guy from figuring out… our situation,” said the man with the funky shirt as he pointed at the Saint Gaudens Double Eagle coin from 1908. “I’ll take nine Tootsie Rolls and you keep the change boy.”

“It’s ok, uhm, you can just take some Tootsie Rolls for free,” the clerk finally said.

“Hallelujah the boy speaks! Again,” said Lawerence with a loud voice and reverberating tone.

The clerk sat on his ghetto stool in awe and for a second began to pray. It seemed like the end of days and for the first time in his life he was worried about shitting his pants for real. He looked outside at the seven figures under the flickering city tree. He waited a couple of seconds praying a car would pass by or at least a normal human being.

“Leave the boy alone. I think he would be a good candidate to illuminate,” said Clarence with a smile on his face as he looks at the bewildered clerk. “Deep down he’s a good guy but I wonder if he’ll choose to be inconsequential. He might end up in the asylum or in jail like so many others,” he was a tall ominous British man and his stare was inquisitive but startling. He reminded the clerk of what Sherlock Homes would look like if he existed. “Then again, he has no choice now, does he?”

Lawerence left the store but Clarence was still staring at the clerk. They were both completely silent. A faint smile started to appear on the clerks face but it quickly faded after Clarence took a step back.

“Follow me,” the towering British-sounding man said. The clerk reluctantly followed him outside the store and there it was the party of shadows. It was a relatively cold day, but luckily there was not wind. Shortly after he set foot on the sidewalk all the figures began to disappear one by one into the tree and the lights on the tree flickered violently. The whole street was empty and he couldn’t hear even a distant car. He couldn’t really hear any thing but the subtle footsteps of the shadows disguised as men. Even in this shitty city downtown area the clerk usually could hear something, a siren or distant cars. For that moment the place was solemnly quiet.

“Wood and trees, they work as doorways, I don’t know why, yet, but I’m trying to figure it out. The trees… I don’t think they like it but this one is asleep or whatever it is they do in the winter. Those tropical trees they really make the Christmas lights flicker. I suspect they hate us because of it,” the Sherlock Homes figure said all this without ever looking at the clerk. It seemed like he was talking to himself the whole time but the clerk politely nodded to every statement.

“Are you dead? Am I dead?” the clerk asked quivering just a little bit at the end.

“Heavens no, you’re alive. I’m not dead either; I’m just somewhere else,”

“Then… what’s going on?”

“Oh, no, I can’t even understand it myself. I won’t even try to explain it to you. Our concept of heaven or hell, well… no, no, I can’t. I tried boy and I shouldn’t. You come and touch this tree with me. I’m sure it sounds ridiculous but they have a history and they’re connected to everything,”

“Don’t worry man, you’re not going to turn into a tree hugger,” said a strong hearty voice. It sounded like the fat man that looked like a Viking pirate. Alas, in a blink of an eye the strange man was there, drinking his ginger ale. “Clarence, do you always have to confuse them,” he said after drinking a long sip from the bottle.

“Don’t they deserve a head start? It takes them years to realize just one concept. You were once like him, Guillermo,” said Clarence to the not-so-Viking-sounding-anymore fat man.

“I’ll touch it, let’s just get on with it,” said the clerk as he stepped forward ever so slightly. He wanted to appear brave but deep down he was praying like the priest on an exorcism.

They settled for a spot and just as quickly as they touch the tree they all disappeared. The lights stopped flickering and pretty street lamp with the copper crown started to fade to black. The entire street blacked out and for a second the lights in that lonely tree flickered alone. Just as quickly as he had disappeared he reappeared. His hands were cold but he felt different. The clerk could hear the sounds of cars in the distance and a siren or two. Then a car sped up the street and parked right in front of him. The guy had a shinny grey Mustang and apparently couldn’t read the two consecutive Tow Away Zone signs.

The clerk realized what had happened and looked around. It hit him like a ton of bricks. He knew one thing that was worth sharing. “We’re all….” But his epiphany was interrupted by the man in the Mustang.

“Hey buddy, can I park here?” said the slender blue eyed blond man.

The clerk looked at the signs and said: “park it there as long as you want.” He quickly tried to go back to the store but someone stopped him.

“Hey Sebastian, how was your day?” said his friend, a balding thirty something mechanic, before tossing half a cigarette on the pavement.

“You know what; it was interesting… but now what?” the clerk responded, but mostly to himself, then he tilted his head and looked for a couple of seconds at the Christmas lights.