Not even a Tumblr prompt, but it fits the general theme and tone of this story collection, so.
Have you ever stood in a dark alley in a big city, eleven o'clock and no one on the street but you and the man you have cornered? Have you ever slipped your jacket hood down, fluffed out your hair, and drew a gun from your purse? Have you ever shot a gun at a man in a dark alley at eleven o'clock so that no one was on the street but you, and you smelled like blood and anger and fear, and pulled coins out of your purse and looked at their dull faces like all your hope for sanity and life rested on their metal heads?
Bella has. More than once, though she doesn't remember. She doesn't remember much these days.
This time, as all times, she clenched her fingers until the nickels and dimes bit into her palm, which already stung from her tight grip and the kickback of the gun. She stashed the gun with her umbrella and old receipts and scurried from the alley, her left hand tangled in her curls and her right squeezing coins. She didn't bother pulling her hood back up.
She looked left and right as she stepped out under the street lights, trying to calm her racing heart. It had been what she needed to do, it had been the right thing, it wasn't even her fault. She doubted these excuses would hold up under police questioning. She also doubted the police would ever question her.
The street was as still and empty as when Bella had followed the man into the alley, and she allowed herself to slow her pace. A brightly lit sign in a window on the other side of the road caught her eye. It depicted a smiling woman in a polka dot dress on a soft blue background, headed by the words "Erase Your Past Gum" and captioned "Because don't we all have something we'd like to forget?"
Bella recognized the woman. She'd spoken to her less than a week ago. She didn't know her name, but she remembered her instructions. Bella crossed the street. The coins' metal faces were embedded in her palm.
Beatrice looked up from her phone as the convenience store door dinged and the cold swept in. It was the woman with the nerves and fluffy hair, back again. She was in here regularly, Beatrice reflected, at least once a month and with increasing frequency. She managed to look both more and less disheveled with each visit. Physically she looked more put together than in shopping trips past. But her eyes held the equivalent of the muddy-kneed jeans, mascara-streaked face, raggedly-bitten nails, and sweat-stained shirt she'd worn on her first visit, and it was ten times worse to wear that look as an expression than as a fashion choice.
The woman looked lost as she scanned the store. At last she walked directly up to the cashier. She slapped a white knuckled fist open onto the counter and released about a dollar twenty in change, mostly dimes. Her hands scrabbled at one of the plastic wrapped candies below Beatrice's line of sight. Not that that kept her from knowing what it would be before the woman slid the gum across the counter. It was always the same with her.
Beatrice rang it up and took a dollar eight from the pile of change with out saying a word. She handed the gum back with a receipt. The woman scooped up her change in one hand and her purchase in the other, gave a tight lipped nod in response to Beatrice's "Have a good night," deposited the change in her purse's side pocket, and left. Beatrice watched her through the window as she popped a stick of chewing gum in her mouth, tossed the rest of the pack in the trash, and walked out of sight. She was blocked from view before the window ended by that annoyingly large gum advertisement. Perhaps she was lured in to buy a pack of that every time she saw the sign, Beatrice mused. Though that still didn't explain why it was always late at night, looking like she'd seen a ghost. Beatrice shrugged and resumed her scrolling.
At home, Bella tossed her purse aside and went straight for the shower. She needed it desperately. She was tense and didn't know why, but the warm water relaxed her.
She emerged half an hour later and dressed in pajamas. She searched her pockets before dumping her clothes in the laundry and found a gun wrapper and a few dimes. The gum wrapper had a web address printed on the outside alongside the message "Visit our website!" Bella flattened it out to save for the morning. She loved doing those little surveys big companies had. It made her feel good to help someone out by giving feedback on a product, and she liked have something to open in her email. She set the little silver message by her desk computer and went to bed.
The following night, on the top floor of a far away office, Leslie scrolled through her emails. Junk, junk, her mother (how had she learned her company email address?), a memo, a meeting, junk, a customer - oh, that looked interesting. She checked the sender - bella.eliza@gmail.com - and had to smile. Bella again. Leslie opened the message.
Hi, the website said to send in comments about the product and I just had to say this gum is fantastic. Cinnamon gum sounded strange at first but it's really good. I was wondering why it's called Erase Your Past? I don't think it's erased anything. :)
Oh, Bella. She'd bought a new pack and was back for more. Leslie decided to be kind. She'd give her a week off - two weeks off - and then visit her again to set up. Bella never remembered any details, but the pattern was ingrained in her very nature. She'd stopped questioning the gun months ago - she thought she'd always carried it for protection. She even thought she had a license for it. She was addicted to the gum, bought a new pack each time Leslie had her commit a crime - fortunately the stuff only erased particularly heinous or illegal parts of a person's past, and except when Leslie was spicing it up, Bella lived an exceedingly boring life.
There was a girl in Leslie's daughter's class who couldn't keep her hands to herself. And a woman who'd swindled her grandfather once. There was an ex-boyfriend she'd like to get revenge on. And there were the witnesses. So many people, so many fun ways to introduce them to her customers, her addicts, her toys. It was the best part of the game, setting up her enemies and her pets just right to reap her full benefit.
And at the same time, she promoted her product. The gum flew off the shelves like hot cakes to all of Leslie's pets. She fed them from the palm of her hand and created their need. It was good marketing - the best marketing.
Leslie rolled her head back and cracked her neck. She clicked reply.
Thanks for the feedback! It's always great to hear from a customer. I'm glad you aren't having memory problems; can you remember where you bought the gum? There's a convenience store in your area selling our products regularly, and I'd like to know who's witnessed such prolific sales of Erase Your Past Gum. The cashier or salesperson should be taken care of.
Leslie Flatts
Erase Your Past Co.
"I only shot him once."
They couldn't have witnesses if they were going to keep up the game.
Leslie powered down her computer and left the office, plans in her head and a pack of gum in her pocket.
