one of my managers seems really angry all the time and no one really likes him because even though he sticks to the shadows and the back rooms and the only times you really see him are when he’s paged to the front or when the bottom of a levitating shelf sprouts feet that look suspiciously like his, when he does decide to assert his authority, it’s out of left field. i guess, i don’t know, i’ve never had a problem with him. he kind of piques my interest. he kind of tugs at my insides. if you look at him closely, he does look mad, but when his eyebrows relax when they think no one is looking, he looks like a sad man.
he was leaning by the propane shelf outside today smoking a cigarette while watching the sky. i mean, there’s not much you can see because of the cars and trees and achingly suburban tinge to everything, but there’s enough of the waning light in the sky to wash your face with a flush of pink that you’re too cold for the blood to rush itself into your cheeks. that’s how his face looked and he didn’t fix his eyebrows in time for me to be fooled, but i don’t know that he was expecting anyone to peek around there and see him.
i spend so much time at work studying the people that come through my line buying produce almost as wilted as they are, but the people i work with sometimes strike me harder. i never wondered why he worked and closed the store every holiday, but i guess it’s because he doesn’t have much family. he’s pretty young, but already so old. that’s really corny to say, but it’s a vibe more than it’s a description.
i don’t know why, but when he left tonight he had a spring in his step and he turned around and flashed this big toothy smile and his eyebrows sprung up and his cheeks were rosy and i remember thinking “holy green eyes” and he wished me and some co-workers a good night and I was taken aback but smiled back and returned the farewell and i couldn’t help but conjure up the moment by the propane tanks for contrast and how his face had looked pink from the sky but inside it looked nicer when it flushed itself, but then my co-workers didn’t answer him and they snickered loudly and so obviously at him and his back was turned at that point but he stepped out of his rhythm for a split second and i knew it was because he heard them. they kept laughing and it made me mad because it’s not funny that his face cracked open with happiness
it was beautiful, and i’m so mad they couldn’t see that.
when we all got outside, the snickering died down as they went in the other direction, but my car was closer to his and before i finally split off, i glanced ahead to see his body turning into a silhouette as he was stepping out of the light from the last streetlight hanging over us. he stepped out of rhythm again to light a cigarette and before he disappeared from the fuzzy peripheral of the light and into the smoke he’d blown in front of him, he turned to me and smiled, a smaller one this time, one side of his mouth turned up, and his eyebrows at ease enough for me to know that he knew i wasn’t laughing at him. He knew, I know he did. His face was mostly in shadow, but I bet it was still pink.
jess riz(kallah) 