Do You Have a Moment?
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
He was thin with combed brown hair. Grey eyes wide with tiny pupils. Skin so smooth and so polished. He wore a pale yellow shirt with a pocket on the left breast. Two pens were tucked in the pocket. One blue and one red. His khakis fit tightly around his long legs, and the tips of his brown dress shoes sharpened to rounded points.
It was his smile that bothered me most.
It tightened the skin around his skull, reminding me of instances when I wore a shirt one size too small, and a raise of the arms was enough to send it riding above my belly button. There didn’t seem to be enough skin for his face. His teeth were grey like his eyes, and his lips thinned out and whitened when he extended them. The corners of his lips reached above his earlobes, invading his temples. And even after a minute of silent staring, the smile never broke. He never blinked.
I held my front door open. It was eleven and I was more than ready for bed. Connor was remote today and, conveniently, did not get back to me about work until after hours. He apologized, saying he was just too busy, and that he would get it done tomorrow. But tomorrow was our presentation to the board, so it all fell on me, as usual. I was snippy. And while I had sympathy for a guy just doing whatever his bullshit church told him to do, I just could not do it that night.
“No,” I told him. “It’s late, dude. Have a good night.”
He did not move as I closed the door. Once it was shut, I turned and strolled to bed, thinking nothing of what I just saw. The presentation was on my mind. Impressing the board was on my mind. Calling Connor a bitch was on my mind.
***
“I’ve never seen a stare so fucking intense,” Dale told Monica. He brushed his arm against her shoulder and snickered. “Those eyes, holy shit.”
It was just the three of us in the break room. The usual one o’clock crew. Most days, I ignored his painful flirting and grabbed my lunch and ate and watched YouTube at the wobbly table that never got fixed, no matter how many times people complained to Nick about it. But what Dale said, mixed with the strong look of confusion on his face, which made his eyes protrude from his skull like pencil points, made me stop and listen with my air pods muted.
“He came to your house too,” Monica asked, gasping. Dale flinched, almost spilling his third cup of coffee all over his wrinkled grey dress shirt.
“No fucking way,” Dale said. “Tatum and Lionel told me he came to them too.”
“We’re talking about the same person, right,” Monica asked. “Yellow dress shirt. Khakis. Hair that looks like a doll’s hair. Had like, two pens? Never blinked?”
“Yes! Yes! Never blinked!”
“Oh my god, I know!”
“And he just said one thing to me.”
They said it together. “Do you have a moment?”
They laughed together. Dale most likely saw it as an opportunity to further his quest to get with the fresh-out-of-college hire and redeem himself after that nasty divorce that lost him his son, his house, and his dignity. And perhaps young Monica saw it as an opportunity to bond with her new coworkers. I stopped eating my turkey sandwich and felt my heart thump-thump-thump its way up my throat. I was cold. Whenever I blinked, I saw those grey eyes. That smile.
“You know what,” Dale said to Monica. “Fuck it. If he comes by again, I’ll say yes.”
Monica recoiled and crossed her arms. “Why?”
“To see what he has to say.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s funny.”
Connor strolled into the break room then, swinging his arms and whistling like the jackass he was. When he saw me, he shook my hand and pat my shoulder as if he were competing for the reward of ‘Most Coworker Ever.’
“Big Pete,” he said, “my boy! Ready to wow the board?”
“You’re a bitch,” I said.
***
It was eleven again and I finished brushing my teeth. When I walked out of the bathroom and down the hall toward my bedroom, I heard it.
Kno-Knock!
Soft. Like two quick clicks of the tongue.
I groaned and walked to my front door, my body shaking more with each step. It was him. I heard that same knock last night. What kind of bullshit church did he work for? And how desperate were they for members? Anger, fear, and frustration washed over me as I opened the front door.
No one was there.
Kno-Knock!
I paused and closed my front door and looked across my living room. Down three steps, into my dining room, was my back door. Sliding glass, covered with a new curtain I got at Lowe’s last week.
He was knocking on my back door.
Dizzy, I stumbled down to the dining room and slid the curtains down. There was a faint outline of a shape in the darkness, swaying slightly in the gentle breeze. I looked at the patio lights switch to the right of the door. I clicked it on, and he was there again. Same outfit. Same hair. Same pens. Same smile. Same eyes.
I unlocked and slid the door open. A biting cold floated inside, making me shrink. I pressed my elbows into my sides and shivered as I stared into this fucking guy’s eyes for the second night in a row.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
“What the hell are you doing,” I asked him. “This is my back door, bro. Please go. Thank you.”
I shut the door, locked it, clicked off the patio lights, and drew the curtain again. Even through all that, I could see his outline. Staring through those curtains. Through the glass. At me.
I did not sleep that night. At one point, around three, I thought I heard a tapping at my window.
Kno-Knock!
***
Dale did not come to work. I would have noticed if his stupid ass was there, chilling by Monica’s desk, talking about anything that would get her to respond. The first thing I thought was that, maybe, it was the guy. Did he do something to him? I approached Monica an hour before quitting time, curious. She chewed her gum louder than usual, which was saying a lot. The dark circles under her eyes were more prominent than mine, which astounded me. The only thing I could compare my look to was that of a raccoon burglar.
“Yo,” I said.
“What’s up, Peter,” she asked.
“You know where Dale is?”
Monica snickered and rolled her eyes. “No. Hope he never comes back, honestly. I’m one more grope of the shoulder away from getting HR involved. Would you side with me if I did that?”
“Of course,” I said. “Fuck that guy.” I paused and took a deep breath. “Did… that creepy salesman guy come by your place last night?”
“Oh my god, yes! Eleven on the dot. Just like the night before.”
I paused, seeing him in my head again. How was that possible? It had to be a network of weird fucks all groomed to look and talk the same. It had to be.
“Yeah,” I muttered. “He came to my backdoor last night.”
“What the fuck,” Monica said. “Ew. If he comes tonight, I’m gonna mace him.”
I laughed. “Let me know how that goes.”
“I will.”
My hands were cold. Pins and needles made them feel like they were bags filled with sand. I waddled back to my desk, my breath trembling. Connor walked past me and threw finger guns my way.
“Pete, my guy! The board whisperer.”
“Go fuck yourself.”
***
Eleven on the dot. I sat on my couch, all the windows locked. All curtains or blinds drawn. After work, I got some for the windows in my gaming room upstairs. Every door was closed and the TV was off. Only the slight hiss of my sometimes-working A/C calmed my nerves.
Kno-Knock!
There it was again. Front door this time.
I marched to the door, trying not to cry from fear. Clearing my throat of anxiety. I gripped the knob, unlocked my front door, and swung it open.
There he was again. Same smile.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
No response this time. I slammed the door in his face and locked it. A smirk stretched across my face then. God, I felt good. Like I could rip my door off its hinges and throw it across the goddam country.
I walked down my hall, ready for bed.
KNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNO-KNOCK!
A rattling almost too fast to be human. Like a machine gun spraying bullets at my front door.
I screamed and fell to the ground. The carpet was damp since I was close to the vent, which shot out ice chips that melted on my grey-blue rug. Everything shook. My house spun. My stomach swirled and my mouth went dry. Swallowing hurt. Sweat dripped from my armpits and onto the floor beside my hands.
My front door, tall and thin and gaunt, looked far away. Its shadow loomed over me as I rose to my feet, my knees trembling. I grunted my nausea away as I walked to my front door. I opened it. He was still there.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
“I. Do. Not,” I said through clenched teeth. “If you come here again, I will call the police.”
I shut the door and locked it and double checked to be sure I locked it. When I did, I backed away from it as if it might explode. To my right was the staircase that led to my gaming room. The door was shut. Ten carpeted stairs led to the room that contained my PC, XBOX, PlayStation, and Switch.
There were footsteps upstairs.
Slow, steady creaks sounded in my gaming room. Getting closer to the door.
I grabbed my keys and wallet and bolted from my house. Into my car and down my street. I did not see him outside.
***
The cops were no help.
I called them when I checked into the inn across town. It was another sleepless night. The shouting couple in the room next to me would not stop arguing about how their open relationship was going too far and now he believed she was cheating on him. And two guys were arrested for shooting up by the dumpster. Still safer than home.
They came the next morning and told me they found no one. No sign of a break-in either. I must have been hearing things, they said. Just fucking great. They filled out a report for me and told me to call them if I ever needed anything, which I thanked them for. Useless sacks of shit. I hope they get defunded.
Monica was not at work. No one was, aside from Connor. Which was awesome. I went to ask Nick where everyone was but even he was out. The first thing that came to my mind was the guy. The Salesman, I guess. Or Salesmen. I sat at my desk alone, doing busy work for most of the day, trying not to think about them. But I could not. They were there whenever I blinked. Whenever I saw something in the corner of my eye. Whenever I looked at a closed door. He was there. And he was smiling.
I could not eat. I could barely drink. My eyes were dry and heavy, but I knew I would not be able to sleep. It was just too much.
Connor came to my desk and slammed his hand down, sending one printed report I had floating onto the floor.
“Just you and me, pal. What do you say we grab some drinks after we’re done here?”
“Connor, I hope you get hit by three buses tonight.”
***
I stayed in the motel that night. While the officer said it was safe for me to go back home, I could not stomach the idea of wandering around that place by myself at night. For a moment, I considered calling Connor for company. But I thought better. I was not that desperate.
It hit eleven, and I watched a dogshit reality show on Netflix because it numbed my brain for a while. It was good to not think for a moment. To just let go.
Kno-Knock!
The motel door was cast in shadow. Through the large window, curtains drawn, I saw him standing behind my door. Stiff posture. Hands at his sides. Smiling.
I fell from my bed and started crying. I was so cold and so tired and so afraid.
Kno-Knock!
I rose to my feet and stumbled to the door, throwing it open with the intention to rip the thing from its hinges. It slammed into the wall and slowly slithered back towards me. I let it bump my shoulders as I stared at the Salesman.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
“What the fuck is your problem,” I asked. “I told you no for three nights in a row, and you keep fucking coming. You go to my back door. You break into my house. I know you did, I don’t give a shit what the cops say. But you keep coming, hoping my answer will change? The answer is no, bitch! I don’t have a moment. Now leave me the fuck alone!”
I slammed the door. My room shook. The little lamp on the nightstand by the bed wobbled to the edge but found its balance just before it could fall. Gold swirled around the room, making me dizzier as I backed away, panting and sobbing. Through the window, I could see that he was gone.
Later, a motel worker came by and told me I got a noise complaint and to keep quiet, which I, admittedly, did not handle well. Our argument got me kicked out and sent to my car. Nowhere else to go but home.
I hopped in my Toyota Corolla and cried into the steering wheel. I could not take another sleepless night. Another day of anxious anticipation for eleven pm when I would hear those two quick clicks at my door. I thought about driving. Just going forever and never stopping. But I knew this fucking guy would follow me. I was cursed, for some reason. And I would have to just be okay with this new addition to my routine. A visit from the Salesman. The guy with the grey, decaying smile and the bulging eyes that never blinked.
Kno-Knock!
The yellow shirt and khakis blazed through the darkness of the motel parking lot. He stood by my window. I jumped and cried and sweated and drooled all over myself. When I composed myself enough to scream at him through the window, to tell him to fuck off yet again, I paused. It was not the Salesman.
It was Dale. Dressed as the Salesman. He wore his outfit. His eyes. His smile.
I turned the car on and sent it out of the lot, my foot pressing the gas pedal to the floor. All the way home, where I cried alone in my bed until the sun came up.
***
There was no one at work.
I walked through the empty office with only the buzzing of the lights to keep me company. At first, I thought about leaving. After a moment of consideration, I thought better of it. I sat at my desk, then Dale’s, then Monica’s, then Connor’s, then Nick’s, which was cool. He had the big, soft rolly desk chairs and that was fun. But no matter what I did to distract myself, I thought of the Salesman. Of Dale.
No matter how tired I felt, I could not sleep. My stomach clambered for food, but I could not eat. One bite of a plain bagel that on a tray in the break room was enough to make me gag. Black veins showed through my translucent skin, and my hands shook as if I was on my third coffee. In the mirror, I saw how thin my face looked. How tight the skin wrapped around my skull. How hollow my cheeks were. How sunken my eyes were and how big and dark the circles under them were.
I cried again. So afraid. So alone. So confused.
I didn’t know what to do.
***
10:59 pm. I sat on my couch again, shaking. Every light was on. I even found an old nightlight and plugged that into my living room outlet for good measure. It was dead silent since the A/C broke while I was staying at the motel. My slight exhales were loud enough to make me flinch. I was cold and my teeth chattered as I stared at my phone. Never blinking. Almost excited, in a way. Like my whole day led to this moment.
11:00 pm.
Kno-Knock!
The front door called to me. I shambled toward it, sobbing. Snot and tears glazed my face as I tossed it open.
The Salesman was there. But so was Dale. And Connor. And Monica. And Nick. And many others. A crowd of identically dressed people filled my porch and spilled onto my front lawn. All with that same smile. Grey teeth and grey eyes and thin lips.
They spoke together.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
I shut the door again, screaming and cursing for forgetting what happened the last time I didn’t answer. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I grabbed for the knob; my shaking, sweaty hands unable to get a grasp on the fucking thing. I clamored for it. Needed it. Desired it. I had to answer. Tell them all that no, I did not have a moment yet again. Reset the clock once again to do it all the next fucking day. What else could I do? What alternative was there?
There was none.
I opened the door. No one was there. Crickets chirped and an owl hooted and the wind blew.
I shut the door and locked it, smiling and giggling. Maybe they were gone. Perhaps they got the message and fucked off. Next was to figure out what the hell to do about work since all my coworkers were-
KNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNO-
Every door and window that led outside roared with constant knocking. Front door, back door, side door. No matter where I turned, I heard it. I covered my ears and fell to my knees, but that only intensified the sound. It bounced between my eardrums and palms like a tennis ball, reverberating inside me and making me shake more. I rose to my feet and hobbled to the living room, crying and confused. Not knowing what to do next.
I saw them through the curtains outside the living room window. Shoulder-to-shoulder. They knocked on the glass. Their smiles piercing the blinds and the night.
KNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNO-
My gaming room door shook with knocks. Every closed door inside my house rattled. My home shook. What was my safety was now my prison. My hell.
I ran to the only opened door in my house, my bedroom door, and slammed it shut. There were two windows in my bedroom, blinds down. Both pulsed with knocks. I fell to the center of my room and cried onto the floor, slamming my fists into the rug until they bruised.
“Why,” I shouted. “WHY? What did I do?”
They did not answer. They kept knocking.
“Please! Leave me alone!”
KNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNOKNO-
“Stop! Stop! Now!”
They did not listen. Why would they listen? What was I to them?
“STOP!”
Nothing.
“STOP!”
Nothing.
“STTOOOOOOOPPP!”
Silence fell. I gasped and sputtered. Mucus coated the back of my throat. I spit it onto my floor, the thick, bubbling liquid sizzling like acid. Fuck my floor. I didn’t give a shit anymore.
I cried and contemplated my fate. This was eternal, I knew. There was nowhere to run. They would find me. Of course they would. And those knocks would sound at eleven on the dot every night. All for that one question.
He would never let me sleep. He would never let me eat. He would let me waste and rot until I gave him what he wanted. It was a game of attrition, I knew.
And I did not know if I could go on.
Kno-Knock!
My bedroom door. The one I shut.
I looked up at it. A blank piece of wood painted pale grey. A massive structure that stood before me, awaiting my answer to its call.
Everything hurt. I felt faint as I approached it. When I gripped the knob, I sobbed for just a little longer. I sniffed up the glob of snot that poured from my nostrils, took a deep breath, and opened the door.
It was just him. In my hallway. Smiling.
“Hello, sir! Do you have a moment?”
I cried in the Salesman’s face, quaking and clutching the knob. There were no more tears to shed. My eyes were dry and my cheeks were red. I looked back at the Salesman. His expression did not change. It never changed. He never tired. He never stopped. He was.
“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I do have a moment."