IV: An Unlikely Visit

There is a particular store in Liverpool that hardly anyone knows. It's a store that tends to sell inventions and products already made, but in a reimagined way. Rubbish cans that are glorified boxes with four wheels; radios the size of a television; cars that took away their backseat for a toilet, bookshelf, and tea maker.

This tiny store in Liverpool was owned by Kris' brother, Wilson Hendrik.

It wasn't a family business, but another person in her family who ran away to fall horribly.

Though Wilson didn't think of it like that.

Mostly because most of the products in the store weren't completely made by him, but by struggling "visionaries" who Wilson loved to help through his business. Because of them, he had been able to gain enough money yearly to stay open, but not enough to make it big.

This resulted in Wilson hiring Kris for her first job and making Kris his first employee.

This resulted in Kris hating Wilson and regretting her first job.

Not that Wilson treated her badly, but Kris couldn't stand the business. To her, it was filled with jealous old farts who couldn't handle people coming through their ideas much earlier than they did, with actual self-confidence in their ideas.↳

The pay was pretty pathetic too.

A measly £5 pounds per week.

Annoying her even more was how Wilson justified it to her.

"It takes a lot of money to maintain this store. Since I don't have enough sales, I have to dock your money that badly. Hey, at least you can buy a Dream chocolate bar!" Which he suggested in 2008, when they had been long disconnected.

That, however, was something she liked about him.
The very fact, his brain could not handle the future.

For some odd reason, he was always five years behind everyone else. Apparently, her parents had shown him too much of the past growing up, resulting in that mindset. The explanation never made any sense to her, but that was all there was to justify her brother's condition.

If the year was 2009 and everyone was talking about the new Avatar film, he was still talking about The Lord of the Kings; Return of the King, thinking it had just come out.

It didn't matter if you showed him a calendar or any proof of the real time. He would simply ignore it. Not of any spite or malice, but it was simply how his brain worked.

All of that led to Kris hopeful but dreading her visit to him.

She thought it would be a suitable job for Steph to get experience in, at least for the meantime, while Kris looks for a real job for herself.

She was thinking of asking the owner of her flat, but she had decided against bothering him with this sort of thing after everything that had happened.

It was better for her to go to someone she knew quite well and wouldn't know of her recent self.

'Though I wish he would pick a better spot for his store.'

Kris thought that because her older brother's store location was right next to a church and across a graveyard.

By his logic, customers would come running to his shop after church, or if they were grieving and needed something to cheer themselves up.

However, there were two problems with that.
Minus the obvious issue, Kris didn't think that people in mourning would come running to a building with flashing lights and signs trying to get customers to enter.

Kris started to regret her decision, but he was their only choice for Steph's potential job.

At least, she would hope he'll hire her.

Passing by the row of signs, she stepped up to the door and knocked three times.

Immediately the door flew open like a wave knocked on the door to reveal a tiny boy with huge googles on his forehead, messy and overly long brown long and very dirty overalls.

"SIR, I THINK IT'S A CUSTOMER!" The boy screeched.

Kris quickly attempted to cover her ears, but the boy grabbed her hands, quicker. He pushed her right through the door in sheer excitement.

As the boy slowed down, she saw a nostalgic sight before her.

The floor was covered in junk, ranging from small to big things; sharp to dull things; parts and whole pieces everywhere. The wooden floor was stained in all types of colours with differing smells. Lights blasted all around, with very few spots being unilluminated.

Somehow, all of this was neatly placed to allow some room to move throughout. Shelves acted as walls and closed off sections, but allowed places to walk and see how filled every shelf was with various objects.

But, right in the middle was that familiar desk.

A man with curly, red hair that barely reached his forehead. He had dirt everywhere and scars all over his hands, but didn't seem to mind nor care. For he was too focused on tinkering on a small watch. He wore clothes only a blacksmith would wear, despite not dealing with anything a blacksmith had to work with.

This was Wilson Hendrik, the aspiring businessman and inventor.

"Look here sir! It's a customer!" The small boy clearly enthusiastic about her.

Wilson looked up from his tinkering. "I told you Nolan, three knocks would mean Kris, not a customer." He sighed with a tiny bit of disappointment at the sight of his younger sister.

The young boy, Nolan, whined. "But you also said that three knocks would mean a big customer!"

"Did I?"

"Uh-huh!"

"Well, from here on out, that statement was never said nor heard, so forget about it."

"Hmph!"

Kris smiled. "Same ol' Wilson, doing same ol' Wilson's things."

"I don't think I understand what you're implying, dear sister." Wilson scoffed at the notion.

"I think you do just like how there are no customers around, dear brother."

"Actually, we did have a customer last week!"

Nolan spoke up, "Sir, that was the priest complaining about the noise we were making."

"He still bought something!" Wilson insisted greatly.

Nolan nervously replied, "Yes...after you wouldn't let him leave without buying your watches."

"They're not watches, Nolan! They're an invention of mine called The Future Teller!"

Kris pretended to perk up at the name. "Oh?"

Wilson, glad to see Kris' interest-despite it being faked-stood up with great energy within him.

"Yes, The Future Teller! This device allows me to not only see the time, but it allows me to know what time it will be further in the day! Observe."

He took one of 'The Future Tellers' and turned a tiny knob on the circular device. It looked exactly like a watch until it opened, and a speaker within popped open. The size of an earphone would be the most accurate way to describe it. The speaker then loudly announced in a squeaky voice, "It will be 15:00 in about two minutes and fifty-five seconds," before going back into its little home.

Wilson looked proud.
Nolan looked impressed.

Kris had a dumbfounded look on her face.

"Y'know what? This was a bad idea. I think I'll see myself out."

"Wait, wait, wait!"

Wilson rushed right towards her and grabbed her arm.

Suddenly, Kris felt that feeling rushing up again.

The man, his laughs, the feeling of rough, hard flesh touching her body. The way it felt so foreign but started to rest in her skin to form a place of hold, made her nauseous.

With the boy, he was quick to grab her and quick to let go.
But Wilson held her arm similarly to that man.

He held her with that rough, hard warmth that begged for her. The way it wrapped around her arm, suggesting things were not finished and had to be completed.

She couldn't help herself, and slapped his right arm off her.

Wilson felt the hard sting on his right arm.

He looked up in realisation. "Oh yeah, I forget you don't like being touched. I thought you being engaged would have changed that and all."

Kris bit her lip instinctively.

She never told Wilson that she was no longer with him because of how his brain worked. To him, she had only got engaged that year, back in 2011. But she had long since married and, well, for a lack of a better word, divorced that man.

Besides, she never planned to be alive to actually met him again.

"Now that I think about it, the last time I would have last seen him was back when I first told him about my engagement."

The thought felt painful, more than she would like to admit.

"Oh, w-well, we haven't the most touchy, touchy couple for that very reason."

Kris lied through her teeth as easily as the sweat dripped from her forehead.

She truly hated lying.
Especially to Wilson.

Wilson bought the lie, however, and laughed, "Sounds about right then! You've always been terrible at accepting new things."

"You're one to talk," She grunted.

"But" he went back to his chair, trying to move on from the incident, "What do I own the pleasure of your presence on this humble Thursday?"

Aside from the fact it was Saturday, Kris stated her request. "I have this...acquaintance who's in need of a job but doesn't really have any experience. She doesn't really care about the pay. She just needs any type of work, so I was hoping you would employ her."

Kris smiled weakly, hoping that the lack of interest in pay would push him to accept it.

He looked back at her curiously. "Would this acquaintance be you or mother?"

"No, it's neither," she swallowed back at the word, 'mother,' out of guilt.

"Then," he lifted himself out of his chair, "I see no problem with hiring her. I could use another hand, especially because of this kid."

"Hey!" Nolan whined.

While Kris was interested in knowing the kid's backstory, she didn't want to stay here any longer than she should.

"Here's the job application." He handed her a completely handwritten job application, with barely any place to put information you would usually have on a document like this.

All it had was a line to put your name and small task you would be doing the job.

Kris was very close to running away.

"T-Thanks Wilson. I really appreciate it." Kris leered.

Wilson put on a bright smile. "No problem, Kris, anything for my little sister!"

~~~

As a parting gift, Wilson had given her a Future Teller for free. Kris tried to refuse the gift, but Wilson and the kid weren't having it.

Besides, to them, they were too giddy at the idea of a new worker.

Knowing that made her feel guiltier for everything she had done to Wilson.

She reflected on those days. The days when she went around and worked for him despite the low pay. Various amounts of people who bought spots to sell their worthless inventions there; the many times the landlord scummed Wilson because of his condition; And then, the moment she quit her job to another well paid one.

Kris could remember that moment but shook it off with great difficulty because she did, unfortunately, managed to recall one moment.

'I thought I could trust you.'

Suddenly, she realised she was at the entrance of her flat already. Kris didn't remember getting off the bus or entering the building, yet here she was, in the hallway that lend to her flat.

She wasn't quite used to that aspect of her brain, but she knew better to think about it.

Although, she didn't have time to think on it when a rather slender man wearing an excellent suit walked into her.

"Excuse, Ma'am," he apologised, entering his way into the elevator.

Kris noticed something had fallen to the ground and kneel down to pick it up. It was square like piece of paper, except the feel felt so crisp and tender that it felt expensive.

She flipped it over and her face went instantly pale.

My Sweet Mistress

Come Back To Me

I Miss You Dearly

Without thinking ahead, she crashed the paper with such force, her nails started to dig into her skin. She didn't feel bothered by it. Instead, it was comforting. The pain didn't erase the greater wound, but it helped to redirect her focus to the current pain. It was almost enthralling to break that layer of skin just as the words on the paper did. But in this case, it was Kris' own doing that made her feel this way.

That, alone, made her happy and depressed all at once.

Kris held on to the paper as it absorbed the blood as a sponge would soak up water.

She took out her key to open her flat door but had forgotten Steph was in the room. When she realised it, halfway through the door, she didn't know what to expect. In her mind, Kris didn't think much of what Steph would be doing.

But nothing prepared her to see Steph placing coins in a comically large wine bottle, with the entire place cleaned. Though, calling it clean would be an understatement as all she did was place the junk in rubbish bags except for the coins.

The coins were given the special privilege of being the cleanest box Kris had ever laid eyes on.

Kris was close to shutting the door, but Steph saw her before she could react.

They both looked at each other, dead in the eyes.

They both looked at the coins and rubbish bags.

Then went back to looking at each other.

"My coins now." Steph whispered.

"Yeah sure, keep them, but... why?" Kris questioned.

"Why not?"

"Don't give me that."

"Because I want to make the best container for coins!"

"I change my mind. That job is perfect for you," She managed to say before she explored in laughter at Steph's stupidity.

Steph's face went to a very deep shade of red. "C'mon, you don't have to laugh that hard."

"But...hahaha...it's just so dumb...hahaha."

"And here was I worried about you...humph!"

Kris's laughing started to slow down a tad bit. "Worried? Why?"

"Because that old guy came here to check on you. It was kinda strange for someone to come to your flat was all."

Kris's laughing stopped. The blood started to fall to the floor. The paper could no longer contain the blood she forced out.

"Let's not talk about him, alright?" She spoke in a calm, sombre tone.

Steph seemed to accept her request. "Alright, I won't force it out of you."

"Thank you. Let me help you with those coins."

"Sure, but be careful with them. They're very delicate, sweet creatures."

"Opps, I dropped a few of them."

"Kris, handle them with more care!"

The pair spent the rest of their afternoon placing those coins into that comically large wine bottle. While tomorrow would hold many new experiences for Steph, Kris was happy living in this weird but fun moment.

Because it was far better for her sanity to live in the present and run towards the future rather than think of the past, for even a single moment.

She wondered if Steph felt the same way at times.