Scourer

Just ride the wave Liam. It’ll take you there, Elena always said. Take you where? To unemployment? To homelessness? To be on 75th avenue selling yourself or slumped over as an addict?

Liam took a step forward in line, closer to his goal and closer to going home and “riding the wave”. All he needed was a jar of crunchy peanut butter and some pickles. Dill pickle spears, specifically. Elena made him repeat it four times before he dragged himself out of the door at one in the morning for her late night request. Usually, her requests would be earlier in the day, but it was odd when she shuffled him awake from his restless slumber to tell him her unusual craving.

Much to his complaints however, he still did it. The corner store was a tight and compact place, crowded with boxes and pallets of items not yet put on shelves, but too much to be stored in the back. Liam didn’t expect a line full of people. Maybe they were like me, Liam thought. Running a last minute errand for a girlfriend of five years because they would do anything for them.

I could marry her one day. If I could afford a ring. I already have enough debt to buy two houses.

Once I pay off the rest of this credit card, Liam thought. Then I can get my credit back up. Then pay off the rest of my car note. Pay off the credit card again and then start paying more on student loans. He sighed. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and his eyes wandered around the store. Dry erase marker-- or was it stale beer-- hit his nose, he couldn’t pinpoint it. In front of him, a lone woman, two young teens up past curfew and an older man all waited for a young clerk. He looked like a college student, with heavy bags under his eyes and running off of the last few milligrams of caffeine that burned through him way too fast. Liam felt a relatability in the young man. Too far into debt to quit now. They’ve both made their bed. Only they couldn’t sleep in it because one was a clerk and the other had dill pickle spears swimming in his thoughts.

Just like me, Liam thought. I bet he’s working two jobs. Maybe a side hustle. Or maybe it's one because the other doesn’t drop shifts and won’t hire him fulltime. Even though he’s had a spotless record there for three years.

Liam took a deep breath.

Just ride the wave. It’ll take you there. Just ride the wave…

Liam took another breath. I can look somewhere else. Hopefully before rent is due. And the water. And the power, which will be higher now that summer is around the corner.

The woman in front of the clerk stepped to the side and sifted through her purse. She waved the two boys behind her and they stepped forward. Piles of snacks crowded on the counter. One by one, the clerk ringed up each item and each ding of the scanner sent a deeper pain into Liam’s skull.

Maybe I’m just hungry. Liam scanned the tight aisles behind him. Nothing appealed to him except for a chocolate cookie bar filled with caramel. He leaned closer to the candy bar, without stepping out of line. Three-Ninety-Nine?

Liam cursed. All he had was ten dollars, just enough for a faded jar of crunchy peanut butter and hopefully enough for the missing jar of Dill Pickle Spears he was in line to ask about. After this change is gone, I’ll have to survive off of noodles and tuna packets for two weeks. I could raid Mom’s house, but she’s an hour away and the last time me and Elena drove out there, the car broke down and it took me thirty minutes to change the tire and I had to go to Emergency Care for a heatstroke. And I just paid off my hospital bill for that.

Liam’s headache stung behind his eyes. Just ride the wave. You’re almost home. Dill pickle spears. Dill pickle spears. Dill. Pickle. Spears.

The door to the store opened and somebody else entered. Liam daydreamed. He was oblivious to the new customer, to his dark clothed figure and the intense focus in his eyes. No time to notice the hard bulge in the man’s pocket or the rest of the men that followed moments after him.

The wave to where? Shit! Liam rubbed his face as thoughts ran across his mind. A layoff, loans that stretched across the earth, a rundown car and a sick girlfriend who wants pickles and peanut butter. Who wants to eat pickles and peanut butter?

He could be at home, asleep and maybe not dream that same dream like every night for the past two months. The one where he’s a scientist concocting a weird chemical or where he’s a soldier in an imaginary World War Three or some assassin slitting the throat of some poor politician. Maybe tonight, he could go to sleep and see nothing. Be in eternal, blissful black. Just that and no more dreams of him on a yacht somewhere surrounded by celebrities and caviar he could spread on a model's back.

All these different dreams only showed him different worlds, most of which were far better than his own. Maybe there was one where all his debts were paid and he moved Elena out to a safer part of town, with a yard with grass. Perhaps there was one where they got a dog, heck, even a cat, a big fluffy one. Maybe there was a world where he popped the question to her a long time ago and now they were honeymooning on a beach somewhere. So many worlds and so many possibilities…

He felt a cold, hard object press against his head. Liam darted his eyes up. He was face to face with a man in a mask. The man raised an object to Liam’s forehead and cocked back something hard and metallic, something that clicked. A gun.

Liam’s insides plummeted. The woman, the teenager and the old man were belly down on the ground and with panic in their eyes. Tears flowed down the woman’s face and the teenagers were shaking. Under his breath, the Old Man muttered a prayer. The Clerk behind the counter was whacked in the head and pushed to the side by another masked man, who quickly rifled through the register.

Further into the store, another man barked orders.

“Don’t forget the safe. Get the safe!” the Man said. More footsteps behind Liam, not that he could do anything about it. All he could focus on was the gun pressed against his forehead.

“Ass to grass. Now!” the robber said.

Liam did not move. His mind went blank. Frozen.

“I’m going to count to three and then I’m going to blow you away dumbass,” The robber said. To Liam, it was gibberish. His mouth hung open and his eyes widened like blinds. His heart drummed in his chest like a heavy metal concert. His muscles were bolted to the floor.

His heart boomed in his ears. Each boom was an eternity. Pickles. Dill pickles. Dill pickle spears.

“One!” The robber said.

Crunchy peanut butter. Dill. Pickle. Spears. That’s what he was there for. For Elena, his girlfriend, his wife in another world. But in this one, he was too broke for a ring with a rundown car, two jobs and suffocating in debt. The debt sounded wonderful. Better than a pistol to his forehead. Better than looking into the cement gray eyes of a man who Liam believed was actually going to kill him.

“Two!” The masked man jammed the gun deeper into Liam’s head and Liam gasped for air. Elena. She wouldn’t get her peanut butter. Her dill pickle spears. She would be so pissed at him. Mom would be so screwed if she saw this.

Something cracked further into the store, like a door. The woman screamed. Liam’s vision darkened. Details faded until he was entering darkness. He was at the end of a movie and all he was waiting on was the credits to roll and a title card to say “this is it. Thanks for playing.”

Just ride the wave…ride the wave…

Just as the robber uttered the final number…

Liam entered an eternal night. Then the world came back in an explosion of sounds. Tiny successions of explosions echoing across a field of screams of agony. Not explosions. Gunshots. Screams of agony from men.

Liam was racing across a sandy beach, hot blood in his mouth and the weight of water and sweat soaked clothes and a heavy metal rifle in his hands. Somewhere nearby, an explosion went off and he went flying. His ears rang, but he was still alive, which meant one thing: keep moving. Keep moving to the target. He lost his rifle somewhere in the chaos around him, amidst the chunks and pieces of enemies and brothers, so he kept going, further onto the beach, closer to the target.

He was met with a soldier, no older than him and for a moment Liam thought that maybe this man had a family as well. When the third world war broke out, he signed up, hoping to be just in the tech division, maybe air support, until he rolled off of the bus and the men in fatigues swiped away his Iphone and everything else he considered home. For a moment Liam thought the man was trying to survive like everyone else. A man that was trying to get through the smoke, dust, debris, blood, sweat and gunpowder if he just kept his head down, fire off a few rounds and be done with his tour. Then he could just go home to his family and finally catch up on all those episodes of a show on a streaming service he could complain was overpriced.

Now here was Liam, in the opposite colors of an opposing nation, on his country’s, his family’s doorstep, trying to prevent that from happening. Liam was in his way. His one ticket home was barred by Liam. He had to kill Liam.

Liam understood. But he had a family of his own, two twin girls and Elena, who still facetimed him week by week as the war went on. He promised her he was coming home. No matter what. Alive.

Liam wasn’t going to die today. The man raised a pistol and like a reflex, Liam swiped it away from him and the tables were turned.

Then nothing. Blackness.

Liam was back in the tight and cramped store staring down the barrel of a gun. The gray eyed robber opened his mouth to speak but Liam was already moving. He understood the robber. But Liam wasn't going to die today.

He swiped the gun out of the robber’s hand. Before the man could react Liam smacked it against the man’s throat. The robber fell to his knees, gasping for air. Liam cracked him on the side of his head, then paused.

Behind the register, the other robber’s eyes widened.

“What the f-”

Liam dashed off, deeper into the store, amidst the cluttered aisles. Voices rose after him, but he ignored them and kept running.

Ride the wave. Just ride the wave.

How did I do that? He crouched behind a pile of unloaded water and gawked at the gun in his hand. Glock 19, semi automatic with a 15 round capacity. How do I know that? Liam was checking the magazine and squirmed. Loaded.

The gun was warm, wet and heavy. Liam never held a gun before. He already disassembled it before he could ask how he knew how. He kicked away the parts right as the curses of a robber came around the corner.

The robber whipped around the corner, a heavy shotgun aimed at a target but found no one.

Ride the wave…just ride the wave…

The darkness of the vents pulled Liam into the abyss. He could hear tempered blades collide before he was in front of a Neo-Samurai, ducking and parrying the warriors blows before he snuck a dagger out from his garb and sunk it deep into the Samurai’s neck. He never saw it coming, never when he’s in the trees. Never when the Shinobi is in the shadows.

Liam was back in the store. Above the store, in an open hole in the ceiling. He stalked the shotgun wielding robber roam where Liam used to be. He found the magazine on the floor, its bullets scattered like candy. Without thought, Liam pounced on him. His legs wrapped around the man like a snake and before the man could pull the trigger, Liam’s hands were wrapped around his throat and the robber was out in seconds.

Liam’s heart was a locomotive, but some other force took over. He gripped the robber by his ankles, crouched and dragged him across the back of the store until he tossed him into a pile of items.

Liam grabbed the shotgun right as the next robber rounded the corner. Liam flung the shotgun at him just as he raised his pistol. Like cold water, another wave hit Liam.

Bright lights. Cheers from an electric crowd. Hot sweat dripped from under his helmet. Heavy pads and the tense silence as the quarterback roared.

He was an animal, sprinting across the field like a Cheetah. His eyes locked onto his target, a wide receiver and with the force of a rhinoceros, Liam rammed into the player.

Liam was back in the store. He rushed towards the robber with a speed that ignored his asthma. He crashed into the robber and the two collapsed into an aisle.

This is crazy. This is insane!

Liam’s fist connected with the robber. He never fought anybody before, no one except his little brother. Not like this though. The two men tousled until like gravity, Liam was flung off of the robber and the two got back to their feet.

Hands up. Feet apart and…what else? Liam was cracked in the face. Warm blood rushed inside his mouth. Another fist, then another, this time in the gut. He struggled to correct himself right as the robber sent another hook, jab and another succession of blows into Liam. Each blow made Liam’s bones shiver and nerves scream.

He’s a boxer?! How the hell do I…?

The wave yanked Liam away. Liam was in a Post-Apocalyptic Thailand, fighting underground. He stood in front of a man drenched in sweat, bruises and blood. He and Liam’s hands were wrapped in hard ropes. The scent of stale sweat, cheap alcohol and the hungry cheers of men gambling shrilled in his ears.

The robber came with a hook but Liam ducked. He ducked and parried the robber’s blows. He raised an elbow and it cracked the robber right under his chin. The robber stumbled backwards.

That’s how.

Liam got into a Muay Thai stance. He leg sweeped the robber but the man righted himself. He came with another fist, but Liam retaliated with another elbow to the head. Blood ran down the man’s head. He winced. Liam never made anybody bleed before. He should have squirmed. Instead he grinned.

Liam’s fists, elbows and knees collided into the man. He slammed his leg into the robber’s side and the man grunted, spilling over. Liam shot a kick to the man’s chest and the robber stumbled backwards. Liam catapulted into the air and rammed a flying knee into the robber and sent him to the floor, knocked out.

Liam’s lungs burned. His knuckles ached and he felt breathing was life or death. Liam’s mouth hung open, just as the final robber entered his field of view, with a gun raised at him.

Liam ducked just in time. Hot air whizzed past him as a gunshot rang out. He dived forward, into a roll and past an aisle. He swiped a box of pencils as another shot rang out.

“Get up!” the robber, the ringleader, Liam guessed, said. He exploded in a tirade of curses as he fired off shot after shot into the aisles after Liam. The Ringleader’s breath was coarse, and heavy. Nervous. Terrified. This didn’t go according to plan. Flank him with distraction then close the distance, Liam thought. He paused. How do I know that?

Screams across the store. Liam risked a glance around an aisle to the front. The Ringleader yanked the woman off of the floor and had her at gunpoint. His gun pressed against the side of her temple, a shield between him and Liam.

“We’re leaving! Now!” The Ringleader said.

A simple shot from here would get rid of him, Liam thought. He raised his hand to aim but stopped. He had no gun. Liam cursed to himself.

He eyed the box of pencils in his hand. The wave yanked him back to an alternate Japan. He was traversing the rooftops of a platinum lined castle, picking off Neo Samurai one by one with simply a dozen darts dipped in a fast acting paralytic poison.

Liam stood then took one step out from the aisle and faced the Ringleader.

“Damn cops! You son of a b-” The Ringleader said. He pointed his gun away from the woman and right at Liam. With a flick of his wrist, two pencils flew through the air. One sank into the barrel of the gun and into the Ringleader’s eye.

He screamed as he emptied the rest of this magazine out into the aisles and coolers behind Liam. Liam sprinted towards him and with a flying knee and sent the Ringleader into the register with a loud crack.

He yanked the gun away from him and the wave pulled him away again.

He was back in Thailand, piled on top of another fighter and pummeling him. Each blow softened the man’s face until it was a mound of wet flesh. The crowd cheered. This was what they wanted. It's what he wanted. He needs the funds. It was the only way to get Elena the help she needed for her radiation sickness. And he couldn't lose, otherwise he’d end up like…

Liam paused over the Ringleader. His hands were soaked in red. Sweat and adrenaline dripped off him and he glared at the unconscious robber beneath him.

He scurried back to a fallen aisle and sighed. Outside, sirens and flashing lights closed in. Liam’s hand touched something. A jar of pickles. He looked at a jar of dill pickle spears.

Dill pickle spears. Peanut butter. There’s no world where Elena would eat these two together, he thought. The only way she would ever eat something like that is if she was…

Liam lost his breath. He locked eyes with the woman and the rest of the hostages.

Out of all the worlds, the one world where he’s fighting against financial ruin, this was the world where he would be a father. Liam chuckled. His chuckle turned into a fit of laughter.

Out of all the worlds…

“Just ride the wave,” Liam said to himself. “Just ride the wave. It’ll take you there.”