The Deli Man’s Wish
The rain pitter-pattered softly on Mark’s window as he drove to work. He squints out his window to sadly observe the acres of desolate farmland. Corn fields once prosperous are now barren, the barns and farm houses deserted. Alderson, Alabama, had been his home all his life, and all his high-school peers had migrated to cities where there was greater opportunity. He, however, had never aspired to be anything but a grocery store employee: so Alderson is where he remained.
Mark pulled his rusty, mud-coated pickup truck into the Publix parking lot. Opening the door and stepping out onto the cracked ground, he runs through the parking lot frantically, trying to avoid getting completely soaked by the now torrential down poor. Through the howling wind and blinding precipitation, Mark hears a loud crash. He looks up, and faintly sees that the plastic “x” on the “Publix” logo plastered to the outside of the store has fallen to the ground, smashing into bits and pieces. He is not surprised, considering this grocery store has been here since his grandparents were children, maybe even since his great-grandparents lived. The absence of the x seems to match the rest of the ancient, decayed building.
After this thought, Mark continues his dash to the store. The homeless man begging for money is at the entrance, his emaciated frame dressed in nothing more than tattered rags. Mark, as usual, smirks, averts his gaze, and ducks into Publix through the creaky door. Though he could walk directly to his work station, he takes the longer route through the grocery store, just so he can steal a quick glance at her working in aisle five before taking his position behind the meat counter. His gaze is so fixed on that particular aisle five worker that he clumsily drops his rain-drenched hat onto the dusty floor. She never ceases to take his breath away. Dressed simply in jeans and a Publix t-shirt, with her blond hair flowing in waves down her elegant back, Martha, the cashier clerk, is undoubtedly the most beautiful women in the world. If only I had a chance, wished Mark hungrily.
He walks over to his deli counter and ties the faded and stained Publix apron around his lean frame. Starting to prepare his meat, he hears a boisterous voice across the room calling his name. The manager, Rick, is headed toward him. “Marky Mark, my man!” shouts Rick cheerfully. Mark immediately feels a jolt of hatred accompanied by a severe pang of jealousy. This man, kind, outgoing, and good-looking, is engaged to Martha. And Mark has never despised a person more intensely in his life.
As Rick patiently talks through the schedule with him, Mark is unable to focus on anything but the fact this man has stolen Martha. Pictures of them together run through his head, and he shutters. Mark glares with such enmity at the confident, pleasant face of his manager, he imagines that his eyes emit lasers that will make Rick disappear. Rick mentions something about how the typical meat delivery man caught the flu and how a substitute will take his place, delivering the meat an hour later, but Marks pays little attention.
At nine o’clock in the morning, the meat delivery man has still not shown up. Mark waits at his usual post outside, leaning against the rusted iron doors that lead to the meat storage room. The usual pack of mangy hounds come wandering about, looking for their typical morning snack. Mark goes inside to retrieve the unsold scraps of meat from yesterday. He carelessly throws the scraps out, and the wild dogs scurry to retrieve it, their gnarled teeth chewing the tough meat gluttonously. It has stopped raining, but the clouds remain, seeming even darker and more ominous than earlier. The smoke from his cigarette diffuses into the air, and Mark looks down the road, inpatient to receive the delivery so he can get to work. Out from the distance comes the truck, rattling noisily down the uneven road. When it finally reaches Publix, the door opens and a short, almost elfin, man emerges from the driver’s seat. He pulls his hood down and reveals a hairless head, a pair of deeply-set black eyes below thick, caterpillar-like brows, a pointed nose, and defined check bones. His thin lips contort into a smile, and Mark shivers. The man gestures to Mark with spindly, wrinkled fingers to come help him unload the meat from the back of the truck. Mark follows, trying to shake the uneasiness this mysterious man causes him to feel.
After unloading all the meat from the truck into the storage room, the man catches Rick stealing a glance at Martha. “So, you like her?” asks the strange man.
“I-I love her,” sputters Mark greedily. “She is engaged to that damn Rick, though, so I don’t have a chance.”
“I know,” says the man eerily. “I am here to help you.”
Mark stares at him in awe, unable to speak. How could he possibly know about Martha?
“I’ll make you a deal,” the man whispers cajolingly, “I’ll take care of that manager, and make her fall in love with you…in exchange for you know what.”
He couldn’t believe what was happening. Is this person really who Mark thought he was? Overcome with emotion, Mark doesn’t know what to do. He then sees her blonde waves out of the corner of his eye, and decides that instant that anything is worth a chance with her. “Do what you have to do,” Mark murmurs greedily, “to make her fall for me.”
“And you promise to stay with her and love her, no matter what?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Mark agrees without hesitation. The two shake hands, and Mark watches the truck fade into the distance, still in disbelief of what just happened.
Suddenly, Mark hears an ear-splitting cry. He hurries into Publix, and sees a throng of people surrounding an object. He maneuvers his way through the crowd, and in the center, sees Martha bent over someone’s body. Rick lies on the floor, his skin a ghostly white, his face paralyzed in an expression of shock, and his limbs seemingly frozen. Mark bends down next to Martha and touches Rick’s hand, but pulls away instantly. His body is indeed hard as a rock, and his skin cold to the touch. This was the devil’s work, undoubtedly.
Faking an expression of grief and sorrow, Mark questions Martha to how this happened. “I don’t know!” she cries, tears streaming down her face, “I heard a crash, and looked over to see that Mark had fallen to the ground. Now he’s dead.” Mark takes Martha in his arms, attempting to comfort her. Filled with twisted satisfaction, a villainous grin slowly spreads across his face as Mark stares into Rick’s glassed over eyes.
Though Mark is fully aware he is the cause of her pain, not one trickle of guilt affronts him. All he feels is joy that Rick has vanished from his life. For the next few days, he is Martha’s comforter, caretaker...any emotional support she needs, he comes to her rescue. He becomes something of a hero for her in this time of misery, holding her hand at the funeral, giving her a shoulder to cry on. As promised by the meat delivery man, she soon fell in love with him, and to Mark’s delight, they became engaged.
Mark and Martha have a tiny wedding in the Alderson Town Hall on a cloudy, November afternoon, the weather similar to the day a month ago when he was granted his greatest wish. Mark looks intently into her sky-blue eyes, thinking about how lucky he is. She smiles up at him intently, and he returns the expression. “Do you vow to love and care for each other, in sickness and in health?” the preacher narrates.
“I do,” returns Mark. With those two words, his fate is forever sealed.
It is agreed Mark will move in with Martha, seeing as his dingy, disheveled house outside of town would never do for married life. They drive through town in his red pickup truck, with all of Mark’s possessions in the back. Martha chatters excitably the whole way, talking about her beautiful house, and how she can’t wait to start their life together in it. They pull up into the driveway, and Mark is startled. The abode is scrawny and dilapidated, with an overgrown lawn, and paint peeling off the shingles. They walk up to the door, carrying Mark’s few boxes he chose to bring from his home, and enter. “Here it is…” she says. “It’s a tad cluttered, but it’s the place I call home. I hope you like it.” Mark is shocked to see a myriad of porcelain dolls piled up as far as the eye can see. Their beady eyes seem to mock him. The walls and floors are completely undetectable beneath the frightening figurines. “I collect them,” Martha whispers, looking up at him, smiling. Mark doesn’t know what to think.
“Let’s go to the bedroom, where we can relax and I can unpack my things,” Mark says, hoping that the bedroom would not contain the terrifying figures.
“Oh, I usually just sleep here, around my girls. With them next to you, it’s never lonely. I’m so happy you could join our family, Mark.”
What have I gotten myself into?! Mark asks silently. His palms become sweaty, and he suddenly feels very lightheaded.
“I…I forgot something at my apartment…I have to go…” Mark stutters.
“Be back in time for dinner, sweetie!” Martha shouts to Mark as he rushes out the door, fumbling for his car keys. He frantically starts the car, and drives away speedily. A million thoughts rush through his head. He never wants to see that women again, but yet he knows he cannot go back on his promise with the meat-delivery man and leave Martha. Maybe if he goes to Rick’s grave, and apologizes for his mistake, he can escape the deal, and move on from Martha without any consequences from the meat-delivery man.
Once he has arrived at the graveyard, he frenetically rushes from headstone to headstone. Finally, he comes upon the one he is looking for. Here lies Rick Singer, who died suddenly on September 24th, 2011, from unknown causes. Mark suddenly realizes the weightiness of the deed he did, taking an innocent young man’s life. And oh, the hole he has dug himself into! Mark kneels beside Rick’s headstone, and, for the first time of his life, prays. He prays to God in the heavens for forgiveness and redemption. “Don’t make me go back to Martha, don’t let the devil take me!” he sobs into the sky.
Mark hears the grass rustle as something emerges from the bushes. He screams, and turns around to see Martha staring intently at him. “What’s been taking you so long?” she asks, a maniacal look in her eyes. “Come home, Marky, and we can have dinner!”
“You know, Martha, I love you. I really do,” Mark rambles, quivering all over. “But I don’t think that this marriage thing is really for me...you understand, right?” He looks into her face, and it is obvious isn’t going to let him go anywhere. Realizing this, Mark bolts from Rick’s grave and runs from her as fast as he possibly can. He hears a pair of eager footsteps close behind him. Stumbling his way through the night, trying to lose Martha, he smashes into what he thinks at first is a small tree. Then he feels a pair of spidery hands curl around his throat and a warm breath in his ear, whispering, “I granted your wish, and you have decided not to comply with my rules. Now, you can’t escape, and I get what you promised me…”
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