Along Came Sally

As was usual on a Tuesday night, William had stayed behind in the cafe after closing time to sort through the leftover croissants and tarts. He yawned as he took one of the last trays out of the display cabinet, carrying it around the register and placing it on one of the last free tables.

Every week, an hour after closing, Will opened the doors of his cafe to the homeless.

He glanced up at the clock and saw that he had only a few minutes until the first of these needy people would turn up at the door. Once the door was propped open with the small wooden doorstop, he turned to make his way back to the register.

Her bark of a laugh was the first thing that he noticed, and he felt himself tense as he recognised it instantly. Judging by the volume, she couldn’t be more than a block up the street.

Sally.

Sally was erratic, spontaneous, and difficult to predict; William had never enjoyed being anywhere near her. Sure, he could empathise with her situation, in the same sort of way you have to feel sorry for homeless people, especially those with mental illnesses. Sally loudly rejected authority, was filled to the brim with paranoia, and flourished her individuality in a way that would have always drawn unwanted stares by those around her.

She was physically unkempt, with wild unbrushed hair that had heavy matting throughout the back. She wore torn, dirty clothes that were likely once beautiful, but had been worn way too many times to ever be considered so again.

Even from the distance between Sally and the cafe, William could hear her spouting the same nonsense about the afterlife and the god-damn key that she always spoke of when she was near him; Will couldn’t explain why, but she just rubbed him up the entirely wrong way. He felt his shoulders begin to tense up and the beginnings of irritation prickling behind his eyes.

Perhaps the worst part of it all was that she always came to the cafe when there was no one else around. She was always here first, right as he was opening for the night. No one else ever seemed to even notice she was there, certainly no one else ever talked to her, but William could sense her a mile away.

Sally loudly announced her arrival with a boisterous “Good EVENING, William!” as she side-stepped through the door with a dramatic wave of a skinny hand. Her oversized rings clacked loudly against her long beaded necklace as she moved her hands in front of her; it was like she was forever conducting for an invisible orchestra that only she could see.

“Good evening, Sally” William grimaced and tried to be as polite as possible. “I hope you ar-”

“Have you taken a second to reconsider my proposal, William?”

Sally interrupted him while bypassing the food and drink laid out, coming to a stop just a little too close to the counter.

“What are you talking about, Sally?” William tried to stay calm, but he knew exactly what she was talking about; Sally went on about the same thing every single time she saw him.

“The KEY my dear boy. You need to give me your EXPRESS permission to leave YOU the key!” Sally smiled widely as she threw her head back to inspect the ceiling. William frowned while inspecting the visible flecks of dirt on her neck.

Now, normally William would play along with Sally for a little bit. He’d playfully ask her what key she was talking about, and every answer was as mysterious and non-sensical as the last. They’d go around in circles, both dancing around the point before more of the unhoused customers would arrive, and William was excused to go and help them. Then, as quickly as she had arrived, Sally would usually seemingly disappear into thin air.

But tonight, he had just had enough. He didn’t have it in him to pretend to be nice. He didn’t want to be patient, he didn’t want to be kind to this woman who reeked; he didn’t want to dance today. Today had been long enough; he had countless rude customers just going at him non-stop and his reserves were just utterly and completely depleted.

“Sally, please. If you go on with this fucking bull about the key today, I’m going to ask you to leave. I don’t want to hear it.” he stated firmly.

Sally’s normally happy disposition suddenly went cold and calculating. It was as though someone flicked her insanity switch to 'off'.

“You have no idea what this is all about William. I need you to take it. Take the key.” She said darkly. Her usual spark of mischievousness was completely gone, and she spoke softly and quietly. William noticed several other homeless people enter behind Sally, and he gave them a small wave and smile as they helped themselves to the food and drinks on offer.

He leaned toward Sally. "But that's exactly the thing, Sally. You've never told me what it's all about, you just go on about me needing to agree with you and just take the key off your hands" he said softly but firmly. He let out a short exhale of a laugh. "I'm not taking it. I'm not even going to talk about it anymore, I've entertained you for long enough".

Sally’s long fingers were holding the edge of the counter so tight that they started to go white. When William looked up to meet her eyes, there was a look there he had never seen before. Desperation?

“Please, William. PLEASE take this key. You don’t need to know what it means yet, my boy, but you will learn in -”

"No, Sally."

Sally's speaking sped up as she appeared to get more and more frantic. Her long arms extended and she tried to grab onto his shirt with her bony fingers, but William stood upright and leaned away.

William slammed his hands down on the counter. “NO!” he yelled, spittle flying from his mouth.

He noted how quiet the cafe had suddenly become. He felt the concerned eyes from across the room looking at him and Sally.

William waved an apology to the other patrons, flashing a quick smile screaming I'm okay before he glared at Sally and whispered, “you need to leave. Now. I’m not asking again”.

Sally’s shoulders fell slightly. “Fine,” she spat. “I’ll leave you alone. But I WILL leave this here, because your life depends on it”.

William heard a small clink as an old, ornate key was placed on the counter. Sally slid it towards him slowly, maintaining eye contact through a look of what could only be described as pure hatred, then retreated from the counter. With a loud and angry sigh, William opened the register drawer and threw the mystery key inside. As he took one loud, shaking breath, he looked up to see where Sally had gone; just as he expected, she had vanished.

“Good riddance” William muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair as Joe, an old man with a kind smile approached the register.

“Are you feeling alright, son?” Joe asked, his eyes twinkling as he looked at William with what he could only describe as fatherly concern.

William hesitated. “Oh, I’m okay, Joe, just had a bit of an argument with Sally about something, that’s all”.

Joe looked visibly startled. “Sally? You don’t mean-” he waved his hands about in front of his face in a crude impression of Sally’s erratic hand gestures. “that Sally, do you?”

William nodded.

Joe went quiet. He motioned to William to come closer, and whispered, “she died a year ago, William. She’s long gone.”

William felt like his stomach was going to drop all the way to his feet. He blinked stupidly at Joe, painfully aware that his mouth was gaping open and closed like a fish. He opened the register once more, and picked up the key; it burned like fire in his hands.

Joe smiled at him gently, reassuringly. "Are you sure you're okay, William? You look like you've seen a ghost".

Before William could formulate a response, he felt long, bony fingers grabbing onto his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, William saw familiar ornate rings, and a familiar smell prickled his nostrils.

Then that bark of a laugh; loud, unmistakable.

"Well, William, that was dramatic".