Bed Bath Beyond

I’ve been working in this store for about 15 years. Before that, I was incarcerated for about five years. Before my incarceration, I was working in a warehouse. Receiving and inventory was pretty much the only formal training I got before going to jail.

Here, I can make a living, and not too many people are concerned about my life. Nobody asks about my weekend or what I’m doing for my birthday. I don’t they even know when my birthday is, they sure haven’t mentioned it. I just stay in the back, pricing, scanning, and counting.

Today I’m just taking care of these shower caddies. It is almost Back To School season. We’ve got hundreds of them. Once I got these all stickered, I just scan them, put them away and go to the next project.

As I was close to finishing, the new girl, Ashley, came to the back looking for something. I could hear her restlessness barely over the little radio playing in the warehouse. I can’t explain, but I could tell with her frantic footsteps and the murmurs that she was distressed.

“What are you looking for?” I asked, immediately regretting the unintended aggression present in my voice.

The footsteps stopped, and I couldn’t see her through the packed shelves of product.

“Do you need help finding something?” I added, a little more aware of my tone.

“Um,” she sniffled, “I need a down comforter for this customer. We don’t have any out front.”

“Ah, the comforters are gonna be up top, above the display shelves. They’re behind the banners.”

I felt particularly helpful. But, she began to sniffle intensified. I stickered one more caddy, set it aside, and walked towards the sniffle. I turned down the aisle and could see her there, trying to stifle her tears.

“What’s the matter?”

She wiped her eyes.

“This customer I’m helping is losing her shit, I just can’t deal with her. She was calling me stupid because I didn’t know where the comforters were, and now I’m going to look more stupid when I don’t come back with one for her because they aren’t back here!”

She began crying again. I felt bad for her at first because these customers can certainly be heartless, but I also don’t think there are many things to cry about in this line of work. I took a deep, silent breath.

“I can go with you and grab it. If she has anything to say, she can say it to me.”

Ashley looked up at me with hopeful eyes.

“If you wouldn’t mind, please do.”

I half hoped that she would have some grit and deny the offer, but here I was, caught being a nice person. We walked out to the floor, through the bathroom section over to the bedding. I could see the crazy one among the sea of bustling customers. It was loud and busy, people were last-minute shopping for the semester that was about to commence at the local university.

I turned my head to Ashley as she followed, close behind.

“Usually, if I give ‘em some gruff right back to ‘em, they’ll settle right down. She looks like a mean one, though.”

Ashley gave a little chuckle, I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or just to humor me. As we approached the lady, Ashley veered toward a tuck-away section where the giant ladder was. I approached the customer with a half-hearted smile.

“Hello, ma’am. I hear-“

“I just want my damn comforter, Bill. I don’t have time for this shit.” She said, with a critical eye on my nametag.

“I’m working on getting that for you right now, ma’am. I won’t have you cursing at my co-worker or me, though.” I wanted to appear appealing but also firm.

“I don’t give a damn about you, burnout.”

I wasn’t particularly offended by this comment, but I cannot stand when someone thinks they can act out like they’re royalty. Ashley was setting up the ladder next to the display, and about to ascend the ladder.

“Listen, lady,” I said, wagging my finger in her face, “I don’t give a damn about this job. If you think I wouldn’t quit right now, you’re mistaken. Do you want the damn comforter or not?”

She stood back, not expecting such a response from a lowly retail employee. I glanced over at Ashley, who was barely too late to remove her smile before I could see.

I turned back to face the lady, and she seemed to have composed herself. Her thin wrinkled lips were twisting together to say something awful when every thought in the building was interrupted.

There was a drop in everyone’s stomach, as reality washed over our sensibilities. There were some unmistakable bangs coming from the front of the store. In the first instant, most just overlooked it as a display falling over or something. In the next instant, dissonant screams filled the air. We all knew too well what was happening, we’ve come to realize very quickly that this sort of thing was like a lottery, and we just happened to pull the day’s number.

Pandemonium in the truest sense of the word. Any idea of an orderly exit was thrown out along with any type of composure. In a moment, I turned back to see where Ashley was but didn’t see her. The old lady I was arguing with had disappeared as well, everyone was moving in all sorts of directions.

I could not tell where the shots were coming from exactly, so I ran to hide behind a display bed. Ducked behind this big bed, I figured I had to get the hell out of the building. By this point, the people who were not near the shooter had fallen quiet, trying to hide.

I raised my head to see if it was safe to make a move to the exit. At a quick glance, I saw the shooter strolling the aisles. I immediately ducked back down to safety. Then there were a few shots and screams. Some survivors had been discovered. I looked again and could see the shooter crouched on the ground, focused on something.

I made a run for the nearest exit I could remember. My hip bone was not conducive to sprinting, but I threw inhibitions aside and exerted all my efforts to get to the exit door in the back. My clumsy running made for loud footsteps. As I turned the corner, shots rang out, and I knew they were meant for me.

In the back, where there were shelves upon shelves of products, I felt more concealed. I tried to quietly snake through the aisles towards the exit. The doors made a noise, and I heard the shooter step into the back. I stopped in my tracks and held my breath as well as I could.

One bullet whizzed through the stack of comforters I was standing by. I was just about to start running when another shot rang out, but I didn’t feel the same whizz of the bullet. Another shot in the warehouse, but again, no bullet flew near me. They got close the first time, but the shooter didn’t know where I was.

“Fuck it,” I heard a man’s voice say.

He opened the door back out to the sales floor. I had to restrain myself from immediately running to the exit. He could still be in here. I listened intently for any sounds I could recognize. I held my breath so that I was almost afraid I would faint. Then I heard more shots and screams out on the floor, and this gave me a sort of demented relief that I had been successful.

I hastily made my way to the exit near the receiving docks. As I got into the open, I began running again. My hip popped out of place. My nerves didn’t allow me to feel the immense pain. I had a mission to get out of the building.

I didn’t notice I was crying, I just dragged myself across the floor. I heard footsteps behind me and realized my wrongful assertion.

I turned over to see who it was. I wouldn’t be shot in the back if I had a choice in the matter. I looked into his eyes, buried beneath a face mask.

He studied me closely for a moment.

“Don’t feel alone in your suffering. You are not special. I will die today, as well.”