Nobody is Clean

At the top of Winnie’s list of things she disliked about the holiday season – even above the rude and insistent shoppers – was the dirty ice and slush they tracked in from outside. In the early morning hours, before the mall opened, the snow usually had a pristine, glistening appearance from the frigid temperature overnight. As the sun slowly rose, the sky blossomed into a sea of fiery orange and then a peaceful, pale blue.

               By opening time, the first shoppers were dragging in caked snow with bits of dirt and squashy slush that sat in the entrance and quickly melted, slowly spreading across the floor until by lunchtime WET FLOOR signs had to be put out, and the large entrance mats had turned from brown to black, soaked in water and dirt. It all looked hideous to Winnie, no matter how many store decorations hung overhead.

               “That seems like a pretty trivial thing to be upset by,” said Winnie’s coworker Cedric, one afternoon when they sat in the breakroom.

               “I don’t think so,” Winnie replied matter-of-factly. She gazed at the ceramic ashtray on the table in front of her with a blank expression, as though lost in thought. Cedric took his last drag on his cigarette, snuffing it out casually as Winnie looked up at him, as though he had broken her train of thought.

               “It’s only snow, honey,” Cedric said nonchalantly. “Honestly, I don’t think I would have noticed it if you hadn’t mentioned it. So it’s messy, big deal.” He continued to flip through the pages of Look magazine, stopping just long enough to see the pictures. “If you hate messes, you would just die if you saw my apartment.”

               Winnie watched an impossibly thin line of smoke rise from the butt of Cedric’s smoldering cigarette; it rose high above the table and then fluttered away. She liked Cedric – he had never tried to hit on her unlike her other male coworkers in the store – and they didn’t seem too fond of Cedric, though he didn’t appear bothered by it.

               “People don’t respect tradition like they used to, Cedric,” Winnie sighed as she turned her melancholy face to the window of the breakroom. “They’re dirty, and rude, and pig-headed. I feel like the world I grew up in has gone away.” Winnie looked down at her dress and saw some wrinkles which she sternly brushed flat with her hands. “What I wouldn’t give to meet a person who still felt like the season meant something.”

               Cedric didn’t say anything in response though he looked out the window for a silent moment with Winnie, watching the dirty snowy cars slowly ambling down the rows searching for empty parking spots. He looked up at the clock as he reached for his cigarettes on the tabletop, but Winnie stopped his hand and gave a shake of her head.

               “No time,” she said as she rose from her seat. Cedric frowned.

               “Oh you’re such a slave-driver,” he whined. “At least the day will be over soon.”

               Shadows across the parking lot were beginning to grow long when Winnie noticed a tall man enter the store through a side entrance. He shook the snow from the shoulders of his camel hair coat (Winnie frowned) and removed his hat while his eyes wandered about the store as though he were looking for someone. He was thin and dark, with his hair neatly combed back and his jaw square and closely shaved.

               Winnie’s demeanor softened as he approached and she could see how handsome he was, and she pretended to be engrossed in folding slacks, keeping her eyes down and humming quietly to herself. The man paused several feet from her, lingering near a rack of dress shirts; Winnie continued to fold clothing and made a point not to look at him, but she could feel his eyes on her and for a moment it made her feel good. She felt her cheeks getting hot and hoped she wasn’t blushing and hoped even more that he didn’t notice.

               “Excuse me, miss…” the man said in a humble tone. He spun his hat in his hands as he spoke. “I was wondering if you could help me.”

               Winnie took a breath quickly and turned around and pretended she had no idea he had been standing there.

               “Oh, I’m sorry sir, I didn’t notice you,” she lied.

               “It’s alright,” he replied softly, smiling. “It’s just…I was in here the other day, and I noticed you and was wondering if you’d be willing to let me buy you some coffee,” the man said sheepishly. He smiled a boyish smile which was both disarming and charming to Winnie and despite herself, she could feel the heat growing in her cheeks.

               “Oh,” stammered Winnie, placing a hand on her neck. “I, I…I’m a little speechless.” He stared back at her with deep blue eyes that made her heart race. “I don’t know what to say.”

               The man flashed a gratified grin.

               “Well, say yes,” he answered.

               Winnie’s mind was spinning, but she felt confident enough to nod the affirmative and gave him a coy smile in return.

               “Alright,” she said with a level of tenderness that surprised herself. “I’ll be done at 6 p.m. if you’d care to meet me at the diner at the corner.”

               With something like stifled exuberance, the man put his hat back on at a jaunty angle and grinned again.

               “By the way, my name is Dale,” he said.

               Winnie brushed her hair back from her face.

               “I’m Winnie,” she replied, holding out her hand which Dale took softly.

               “I’ll see you at the diner at 6 p.m. Winnie” he said, taking several steps backward. Then he turned slowly and headed for the door.

               Across the department, Winnie saw Cedric wheeling out a rack of coats and she waved frantically at him.

               “You’ll never believe it,” Winnie said when Cedric came over. “A guy just came in here and asked me out.”

               Cedric’s mouth fell open dramatically.

               “Get out!” he said astounded. “Who was it? Where? Where did he go?”

               Winnie saw Dale through the window as he walked stoically along the sidewalk toward the parking lot.

               “There,” she said, pointing at him. When Cedric saw him, his face dropped – something that perplexed Winnie.

               “What is it?” she asked, deflated.

               Cedric didn’t answer right away – he stared for a few moments longer as Dale disappeared and still looking perplexed he said, “that’s odd. That guy was in her a couple of days ago. Yeah, I remember now. He was flirting with Cecille in the shoe section.”

               Winnie’s heart fell. “What?”       

               “Yeah yeah, I remember it exactly. He came in – I couldn’t forget a face like that – and he went right up to Cecille and started talking to her like he had known her all his life. I thought they knew each other but later she told me she had never seen him before and that he asked her out.”

               They both stood quietly as Winnie considered it all.

               “Well, don’t give him another thought, hon,” said Cedric harshly.

               The small face of Winnie’s watch told her the store would be open for only another fifteen minutes and she sighed heavily, still disappointed about Dale and repulsed by the sight of the muddy footprints scattered about the store entrance. She paused in her folding duties and once again sternly brushed winkles from her dress and silently scolded the wintertime.

               “It’s all a mess,” Winnie said as she surveyed the floor.

               At first she didn’t hear the voice of the woman behind her – Winnie was lost in her thoughts.

               “Hello miss?” came the voice, shrill enough to pull her from her daydream. Winnie turned around in frustration.

               “Yes?” she answered flatly.

               The woman’s face hardened, and she gave Winnie a piercing gaze.

               “I’ve only been standing here for ten minutes trying to get some help,” the woman snapped. With effort, Winnie composed herself.

               “Of course, I apologize,” she said.

               “I should hope so.”

               Winnie clenched her hands into fists behind her back. “How can I help,” she strained in response.             

               The woman handed her a blouse, wadded up around the hanger it was still on.

               “I want this in a large.”

               Winnie’s eye twitched at the site of the blouse in such disarray.

               “I’m sorry ma’am, but we don’t have that size in this blouse anymore. It’s only two weeks until Christmas.” She regretted saying so immediately.

               “Well, that isn’t my fault,” the woman called out. “Can’t you go look in the back or something?”

               Winnie heard her pulse in her ears. “I apologize ma’am,” she started as she tried to gently straighten the blouse on the hanger, “I just sorted the stock for this department a couple days ago and I know for certain that all the larges have been sold.”

               The woman looked incredulous. “So you aren’t even going to check?”

               “There’s nothing for me to check,” Winnie said, her voice rising.

               “I bet now you’re going to tell me it’s my fault for not shopping earlier,” the woman snapped back. “Some Merry Christmas this is turning out to be.” She snatched the blouse out of Winnie’s hand and stormed off, tossing it back at the rack it had been hanging from.

               Overhead Winnie heard the crooning of “White Christmas” on the store’s PA system. She stood, riveted to her spot as she watched the woman push through the door and stomp out into the twilight. Lost in her thoughts, Winnie was startled when she heard another voice.

               “Don’t listen to them Winnie. None of them are clean.”

               She froze motionless. “What?” There was nobody standing near her.

               “Nobody is clean.”

               She heard the voice again. It sounded like it was coming from right beside her. Winnie spun around once but saw nobody. The lights overhead dimmed twice, telling customers the store would be closing in ten minutes.

               Winnie frowned plaintively, brushing the wrinkles from her dress once more, feeling a sudden insecurity.

               “I’m clean,” she thought to herself. The song overhead began to change then – the words began to slur and run together.

               “Ruin Christmas” the song was saying.

               “I didn’t ruin Christmas,” Winnie insisted. “They did. They ruined it!” The tinsel streamers that hung in graceful arches from the ceiling glinted brightly from the tears welling in her eyes.

               “Not clean,” the voice repeated over and over.

               “Shhh…” Winnie pleaded, squeezing her eyes closed. She was overcome with the sensation of falling and she shrieked, her arms flailing as she tried to grab hold of something to stop herself.

               Her eyes opened wide and she saw the floor beneath her feet and her hands wrapped tightly around the bar of a clothing rack. A couple of faces gawked at her, including Cedric who stared at her dumfounded. The only thing that caught her eye, though, was the filthy, soaking door mat which was beginning to smell like a wet dog.

               “They ruined it,” she hissed to herself. In the breath of an instant, Winnie thought she heard Cedric’s voice, but she ignored it as she rushed for the breakroom. There she found her purse and her coat and she darted out the breakroom door into the frigid evening air and the sounds of cars rumbling in the parking lot.

               Winnie tried to run but her feet only slid beneath her; the melted snow from the afternoon had refrozen and glimmered dully in the parking lot lights. Hand over hand, she worked her way down a row of cars, pulling herself along the chrome bumpers until she found her car and she threw open the door and gingerly placed herself on the seat. She viciously tugged at her dress then, anxious to pull the winkles out of it.

               “They ruined it, not me! I’m clean!” Winnie shouted.

               Her car idled solemnly as she sat, staring out the window, lost in her thoughts. She looked at her watch. It was 6 p.m.

               “They ruined it,” she said dully. She backed out of the space to the honking of horns; her tires spun over and over again as she careened through the parking lot toward the road, with oncoming headlights veering left and right as her car slid wildly on the ice.

               It was then that she saw him. Winnie spotted the camel hair coat stepping into traffic at the corner, just up ahead.

               The voice said again: “nobody is clean.”

               Winnie’s foot fell heavily against the gas pedal.

               “They ruined it,” she sobbed. The car slid from side to side as the wheels spun. Ahead the rosy red traffic light was warm, like the Christmas lights Winnie had hung up in her living room window. It cast a pale red glow on the camel hair coat which was now immobile ahead of her.  

               Suddenly the voice was gone; there was darkness except for the sight of Dale, standing terror-stricken in Winnie’s headlights. She felt her vision growing blurry but realized she was about to run into him, and she weakly jabbed her foot into the brake pedal.

               The wheels stopped, but the car continued across the ice and Dale was thrown into the windshield. Everything went black as Winnie collided with the cars across the intersection.

               When she came to, Winnie felt the chill of the air flooding in through the shattered windshield. The red glow of the traffic light made the blood across the snow look black. Winnie tried to move but felt nothing.

               Then she heard it again.

               “Nobody is clean.”