he had that look you very rarely find: the haunting, haunted kind.
This past Wednesday, early in the afternoon, I was at work at the lovely Bookstore Y when I saw a man in the doorway. The door was standing open, and he was just ... standing there; not even in the shop, but on the doorstep, gazing at the books piled in front of the counter. He literally stood there for something like 15 minutes before coming into the store.
I think of him as Soft-Eyed Boy, for his young, sad dark eyes. He has medium caramel-mocha skin, and is clean-shaven, with an upturned nose and sensitive-looking mouth. As he came in, he asked me if all the books in front of the counter are on hold for someone. I explained that no, they're just waiting for us to look their Internet prices up so the owner can decide how much to charge for them, and watched as he moved a few feet over to the Art History section next to the counter ... and stood there.
There he stayed. After a bit, I felt truly unnerved. I was staffing the store alone, with a few customers coming by once in a while, and I wasn't sure how to deal with a man who did nothing but stare at the shelf ... then sometimes shift his staring to the floor ... then sometimes turn around and stare at another shelf. He didn't pick up any books, or talk, or anything; just kept his gaze downturned and his hands in his pockets. We have chairs around the shop; he didn't sit down. When a customer bringing a book to the counter asked him if he was in line to buy something, he didn't even seem to notice. After an hour or so, he finally left, and I felt relieved.
He came back in a few hours later, and did the same thing. Stood in the same place, even. Forty-five minutes later, my coworker Alan came in -- I don't close the store every other Wednesday, because I have to go to my co-op's Board meeting, so Alan relieves me. Alan and I chatted for a while, and after half an hour of continuing to stand there, Soft-Eyed Boy suddenly brought a $1 book to the counter and bought it before departing. The book was a really odd choice: an obscure technological manual, I think. Alan asked, "Has that guy been here for long?" and, when I nodded, looked as disquieted as I. "I don't usually get a bad vibe from people," he said, "but that guy is creepy."
For those of you who've read Promethean, Soft-Eyed Boy made me think irresistably of the Disquiet effect -- he was that unnerving. I felt guilty about leaving for the Board meeting, since Alan would have to close alone, and told him to call me if Soft-Eyed Boy came back in -- I'd skip out on the end of the meeting and come help him close.
There was no indication that Alan had been found stabbed to death or anything over the next couple days, and I worked a full shift today -- entirely alone, open to close. And Soft-Eyed Boy came back in. He stood in the same place, only occasionally moving a few feet and then returning, for hours. I'd decided yesterday that he probably was having a bad trip or something, and was nothing to worry about, but when he came back today I felt kinda scared. I was highly aware of him as I did everything from process Internet orders to look up book prices to take phone calls. Eventually, I sort of got used to him, but didn't come close to forgetting or ignoring him.
Finally, I decided to put a paragraph in my daily message to my manager describing him and his behaviour; maybe Soft-Eyed Boy had come in at other times, and we could compare notes. I felt a little guilty about it. I didn't want to run the guy out of the store or get him in trouble or whatever, and he wasn't hurting anything, but I felt like I should do something. Describing him necessitated that I look at him, so I glanced up and smiled at him directly before finishing my note.
When I looked up again, he was right in front of me, at the counter. "Can I help you?" I asked. He seemed to hesitate, then asked quietly, "Do you have any Spanish dictionaries?" "Sure," I replied, took him to the dictionary section, explained its layout, and left him there. I went back to the counter with a melancholy feeling: his eyes seemed to ask a question I couldn't understand, let alone answer. He departed swiftly thereafter, and I wondered if I'd scared him off.
No. He returned half an hour later with money, and bought a Russian-English dictionary. After I rang that up, he politely asked if he could add something, and went to fetch a German-English dictionary. Then he took his $20 worth of books and left.
At this point, I called Housemate Lisa and asked her to come stay with me through closing and walk me home. She cheerfully agreed, and the rest of the day passed without incident.
Except that I can't get Soft-Eyed Boy out of my head. What was going on with him? I don't think he was casing the joint or anything; even a dumb criminal wouldn't be so obvious, would he? Is he homeless, coming in to get out of the weather? Today was pretty cold and a little snowy, and Wednesday was rainy, so that might make sense. But in that case, where'd he get $20 to spend on dictionaries, and why'd he do it at all?
Nothing about him was particularly scary. It was just the way he acted that was creepy, but I don't want to be judgmental or harsh ... he looked so melancholy. Towards the end of his presence today, I almost wanted to ask him if anything was wrong, or if there was anything I could do, but he seemed ... on a different plane, in a way. And I suppose I've heard too many stories of insane serial killers fixating on the girl who's nice to them.
If Soft-Eyed Boy is cold and needs to be warm, I almost want him to be comfortable coming in. Chicago winter is no weather to stay out in. But I don't know if that's a sane reaction. And I don't know what the safe or reasonable course is here. I mean, he's probably not a guy who will trail me home and leave me dead in a ditch, right? I certainly don't want to call the cops on him or anything. If he comes back in when I work on Monday, what do I do?
I think of him as Soft-Eyed Boy, for his young, sad dark eyes. He has medium caramel-mocha skin, and is clean-shaven, with an upturned nose and sensitive-looking mouth. As he came in, he asked me if all the books in front of the counter are on hold for someone. I explained that no, they're just waiting for us to look their Internet prices up so the owner can decide how much to charge for them, and watched as he moved a few feet over to the Art History section next to the counter ... and stood there.
There he stayed. After a bit, I felt truly unnerved. I was staffing the store alone, with a few customers coming by once in a while, and I wasn't sure how to deal with a man who did nothing but stare at the shelf ... then sometimes shift his staring to the floor ... then sometimes turn around and stare at another shelf. He didn't pick up any books, or talk, or anything; just kept his gaze downturned and his hands in his pockets. We have chairs around the shop; he didn't sit down. When a customer bringing a book to the counter asked him if he was in line to buy something, he didn't even seem to notice. After an hour or so, he finally left, and I felt relieved.
He came back in a few hours later, and did the same thing. Stood in the same place, even. Forty-five minutes later, my coworker Alan came in -- I don't close the store every other Wednesday, because I have to go to my co-op's Board meeting, so Alan relieves me. Alan and I chatted for a while, and after half an hour of continuing to stand there, Soft-Eyed Boy suddenly brought a $1 book to the counter and bought it before departing. The book was a really odd choice: an obscure technological manual, I think. Alan asked, "Has that guy been here for long?" and, when I nodded, looked as disquieted as I. "I don't usually get a bad vibe from people," he said, "but that guy is creepy."
For those of you who've read Promethean, Soft-Eyed Boy made me think irresistably of the Disquiet effect -- he was that unnerving. I felt guilty about leaving for the Board meeting, since Alan would have to close alone, and told him to call me if Soft-Eyed Boy came back in -- I'd skip out on the end of the meeting and come help him close.
There was no indication that Alan had been found stabbed to death or anything over the next couple days, and I worked a full shift today -- entirely alone, open to close. And Soft-Eyed Boy came back in. He stood in the same place, only occasionally moving a few feet and then returning, for hours. I'd decided yesterday that he probably was having a bad trip or something, and was nothing to worry about, but when he came back today I felt kinda scared. I was highly aware of him as I did everything from process Internet orders to look up book prices to take phone calls. Eventually, I sort of got used to him, but didn't come close to forgetting or ignoring him.
Finally, I decided to put a paragraph in my daily message to my manager describing him and his behaviour; maybe Soft-Eyed Boy had come in at other times, and we could compare notes. I felt a little guilty about it. I didn't want to run the guy out of the store or get him in trouble or whatever, and he wasn't hurting anything, but I felt like I should do something. Describing him necessitated that I look at him, so I glanced up and smiled at him directly before finishing my note.
When I looked up again, he was right in front of me, at the counter. "Can I help you?" I asked. He seemed to hesitate, then asked quietly, "Do you have any Spanish dictionaries?" "Sure," I replied, took him to the dictionary section, explained its layout, and left him there. I went back to the counter with a melancholy feeling: his eyes seemed to ask a question I couldn't understand, let alone answer. He departed swiftly thereafter, and I wondered if I'd scared him off.
No. He returned half an hour later with money, and bought a Russian-English dictionary. After I rang that up, he politely asked if he could add something, and went to fetch a German-English dictionary. Then he took his $20 worth of books and left.
At this point, I called Housemate Lisa and asked her to come stay with me through closing and walk me home. She cheerfully agreed, and the rest of the day passed without incident.
Except that I can't get Soft-Eyed Boy out of my head. What was going on with him? I don't think he was casing the joint or anything; even a dumb criminal wouldn't be so obvious, would he? Is he homeless, coming in to get out of the weather? Today was pretty cold and a little snowy, and Wednesday was rainy, so that might make sense. But in that case, where'd he get $20 to spend on dictionaries, and why'd he do it at all?
Nothing about him was particularly scary. It was just the way he acted that was creepy, but I don't want to be judgmental or harsh ... he looked so melancholy. Towards the end of his presence today, I almost wanted to ask him if anything was wrong, or if there was anything I could do, but he seemed ... on a different plane, in a way. And I suppose I've heard too many stories of insane serial killers fixating on the girl who's nice to them.
If Soft-Eyed Boy is cold and needs to be warm, I almost want him to be comfortable coming in. Chicago winter is no weather to stay out in. But I don't know if that's a sane reaction. And I don't know what the safe or reasonable course is here. I mean, he's probably not a guy who will trail me home and leave me dead in a ditch, right? I certainly don't want to call the cops on him or anything. If he comes back in when I work on Monday, what do I do?