The Green Leaf Experience

My shift had only two hours left, the final stretch. I go through a mental check of my duties. Restock and rotate the goods; check. Put the rubbish at the back of the warehouse; check. Floors clean; check. Fire exit clear; check. Double-check the doors are locked; done. The only thing left is to cash up at the end of the shift. Now I have time to watch a couple of Breaking Bad episodes on my tablet until then.

A car pulls into the station; two people are inside. A man gets out to refuel. It's always a little unnerving whenever someone comes to the store, but nothing has ever happened. The worst was a drunk shouting that I gave him the wrong packet of crisps. Even though I tried to swap them, he spiralled into a diatribe. After he ranted on for twenty minutes, I called the police, but he left before they arrived.

Unlike that drunk, this man, now walking over to my pay window, doesn't seem intoxicated, though.

'Hi, anything else?' I ask. He is beefy and pretty handsome, exactly my type.

'No,' he says, tapping his card on the machine as I put it to the hole in the pay window. 'Do you know how long it takes to get to Brixton?'

'At this time of night, you'll be there in about an hour.' He thanks me and leaves. That's about as interesting as it usually is. They get their goods and go. I wouldn't have it any other way.

An hour left until 5 a.m. Robin should be here in about forty-five minutes to start the day shift.

It takes me about half an hour on a bus to get home, and the sunrise this morning is at 6 a.m., more than enough time.

I hear scampering in the back. I go to the staff area to have a look. Our storeroom is nothing special, a small warehouse no bigger than a large living room to put our stock, a toilet further in, and a cloakroom that doubles as an eating space. If there were a person here, I'd see them straight away. It's probably mice. I recheck the fire exit, and it's shut and locked. I check the mouse traps, but they are still empty. They really need to dig into their pockets and hire a professional pest control company. I peep around cages, check the boxes for holes, nothing. It must have been my imagination. I go back to the till, and a customer is at the window.

'Excuse me, will you let me inside? I think someone is following me,' she says. Black make-up smudges around her eyes as though she had been crying; she was dishevelled.

'I'm sorry, I can't open the door. I'll call the police for you,' I say.

'No, please, I think it's my ex-boyfriend. I don't want to involve the police. I just want to hide out for five minutes,' she says. She does seem shaken, though. I've heard stories of tricks like this, where they get a child or a woman begging for help, lure you somewhere before a hidden group jump you. They're not going to get me, though. I pick up the phone and dial 999.

'Stay close to the pay window, madam,' I say, looking over her shoulder for signs of a stranger: nothing but the empty street and closed stores. I check the monitor, and the petrol station is independent of pedestrians. She doesn't say anything as I speak on the phone, telling them the situation. After the call, I stand by the pay window with her.

'I'm sorry, but I really can't open the store for anyone. The police should be here in 5 minutes, though,' I say and she thanks me. 'So, where are you coming from?'

'I was at a party. What's your name?' she says.

'Alex,' I say, standing up and showing my name badge. 'What's your name?'

'Bridget. Can I get a bottle of water,' Bridget says. I leave the till to get one from the back. When I return, she is gone. On the monitor, I see her flash across the screen on the part of the street the camera scans.

Shortly afterwards, two police officers arrive. I explain what happened.

'Green boots, short brown hair and a black puffa jacket,' the officer says, confirming the final parts of my statement.

'Yes, that's all. Sorry, but I'm not allowed to open the store to people.'

'No, that's fine, you did the right thing. We advise that you don't if you're alone here at this time of night. That should be everything, have a good rest of your shift,' the officer says, and they leave.

Robin text me saying he's going to be late coming in this morning. I text back asking how late he will be, but he has yet to reply.

It's now 5:10 a.m., and his reply comes through. 'I'll be @ work in about 45.' Forty-five minutes? I'm not going to make it. Damn these large un-shaded windows. I'm going to be vulnerable in the open here. Okay, calm down, Alex, we've been in this situation before. Check your phone to see where the nearest tube station is. Shit, a twelve-minute walk, I'll never make it. I could just leave now. But then what, I'd be fired, and the right night job can be tough to get. Their shifts often end after sunrise, and this one is perfect. Think, Alex. I bring my backpack and jacket to the front, ready to dart out as soon as Robin is on sight.

I sit on the stool behind the till my eyes dart between the monitor and the windows. A few customers come to the pay window, pay for their petrol and leave. Outside is getting brighter every moment. I remember Mary, my online yoga instructor, says to focus on my breathing when I feel anxious. But shouldn't deep breathing calm me down? Shit!

5:47 a.m. Robin came onto the shop floor.

'Sorry I'm late Alex, the baby gave us a scare, but everything's alright now,' Robin said, craning his neck to see his colleague. Alex was nowhere in sight. Robin walked over to the till, and Alex wasn't there. Robin knew that he wouldn't just leave the store without tagging out, so where was Alex? Robin unlocked the store a couple of minutes before 6 a.m. and then went to the till and texted Alex to see if everything was alright. Robin heard the Bongo ringtone come from the corner. He knew the one that Alex used; it sounded like a computer game character received a power-up.

'Alex, are you there, mate?' Robin said he couldn't see that corner of the store from here. Robin walked over and called out his colleague's name a few more times as he edged towards the aisle. Robin didn't scare easily, but this was strange.

'Shit, Alex,' Robin exhaled, 'What you doing? Why didn't you answer me,' Robin said. Alex raised his head to face him. 'Are you okay?' Robin asked.

'No...I...I can't go outside,' Alex said, his voice croaky like he had been crying; this was serious. Robin squatted.

'Why not? Is someone after you or something?' Robin said, putting a hand on Alex, who flinched.

'The light, I can't let the light touch me,' Alex said. Robin looked at the middle-aged man, confused. Then Robin stood and noticed that Alex was nestled in the shadow where the light didn't reach him.

'Okay, Alex, but you can't wait here, mate.'

'Listen, I'll just stay here quietly. You won't even know I'm here,' Alex pleaded.

'Come on,' Robin said, reaching down to help Alex up.

'No!' Alex screamed, fighting the man off as if his life depended on it.

'Shit, Alex! Well, the manager is gonna lose her shit if she has to come in to deal with this. You can't sit here on the shop floor, for fucks sake,' Robin said, anger manifesting in his voice. But Alex sat with his head down. 'Whatever, I'm not dealing with this, this time o' morning,' Robin walked back to the till in a huff.

Fortunately, the next few customers didn't go over to where Alex was, and it gave Robin time to cool off.

The manager, Rebecca, arrived after seven, and Robin explained the situation to her and warned her not to touch him. She went over to Alex, still huddled in the same position, making himself small as the sunlight crept closer.

'Alex, what's wrong?' Rebecca asked.

'The sunlight, don't let it touch me.'

'What happens if the sunlight touches you?'

'It burns,' Alex stammered. Rebecca considered Alex carefully, raising a brow at the situation as she stood over him.

'Alex, if that is true, why didn't you sit in the back? There are no windows there. Why hunker down here on the shop floor, cowering within the smallest shadow to escape the light?' Rebecca asked. Alex slowly looked up; realisation glowed on his face. 'Here's what's going to happen, not long from now, the light will touch you, and then you'll see that it doesn't burn you,' Rebecca said and stood.

'Please help me,' Alex replied.

'I just did,' Rebecca said and walked away, knowing that customers rarely visited that corner of the store this time of the morning. And Alex was out of sight from the people walking outside; all Rebecca had to do was wait.

My sudden outcries cause Robin to drop a customer's eggs. He runs over to me to witness me squirm about the ground, engulfed in flames.

'Alex, what's wrong?' Robin screams, bending down to help, clearly not knowing what to do, his hands gingerly touching me. Rebecca comes running over, and customers gather, each gawking as I writhe in agony. Now she sees that it burns.

But none of them attempts to put out the flames, and none grab an extinguisher. It becomes difficult to breathe, and no amount of rolling douse the blaze. Seconds, minutes or hours, it is hard to tell, but the pain finally ends.

'Alex! Alex!' Robin says, shaking me. His voice the last I hear as it muffles. The last thing I see is the sun planted in the blue sky, gazing at unobstructed daylight for the first time before I return to the dark.