Carl shuffled off home, now tiring from his evening excursion. He tried to put the weird incident with the glowing rock to the back of his mind, odd as it had been. He didn’t really have an interest in space and the cosmos. That was for nerds. He was just more bummed it had sobered him up. He felt like he'd had a good buzz before.
“Speaking of which…”
Carl reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his cigarettes, only to find they'd been crumpled by the impact of him being thrown backwards.
“Damnit! Figures…”
Rooting around in his pockets, he scooped out whatever little cash he had. It wasn’t much, but it'd be enough for some more cigarettes and a cheap four pack. There was a late night convenience store two blocks over from his apartment complex, cheap enough to supply what he needed.
Walking in through the automatic doors, the faint sound of some kind of bollywood music could be heard coming through the radio behind the counter. A young Indian guy, probably in his early 20s, was serving. It was likely his family's business, but Carl had never sought to check. Instead, he went to the fridge and fished out a cheap four pack before heading to the counter.
“Just these. And a pack of smokes, cheapest you've got” he asked.
“Okay, that'll be $12.50 please,” the clerk replied.
Carl rummaged through his pockets for cash again, picking through the change he needed from an assortment of other junk he hadn't bothered to clear out. It frustrated him as he mumbled under his breath, but in his current situation, he needed every penny he could spare. In his annoyance though, he hadn't noticed another customer waiting behind him.
“Hey buddy, do ya mind hurrying it up? I've got places to be tonight” he complained.
Carl wasn't going to be spoken to like that.
“Hey fuck you, I'm trying sort my money alright? Why don't you climb in the fridge with the beer and chill out!”
The man was tongue tied enough not to snap back, meaning Carl could slam his money down on the counter.
“Here”.
Grabbing his bag of goods, he took a glaring look at the antagoniser before heading for the exit.
“Asshole”.
Not looking where he was going however, he bumped into someone else entering the store, barging the young guy's shoulder.
“Motherfucker, is everyone in this town braindead or something?!” Carl cursed.
“Sorry man, take it easy!” The college aged kid nervously replied. The guy at the counter stepped to his defence however before Carl could fire back.
“OK, you've made your point. I think you should go home”.
Carl was fully prepared to go in on the guy, but taking a glance at the clerk, he could see he was ready to raise the alarm. Carl knew he was being dealt a losing hand.
“Whatever fuckers, I can't be bothered with this shit”.
Storming out of the store, Carl crossed the street and threw himself down on a nearby bench. Reaching into the bag, he decided to crack open a can now before he got home, savouring the taste of the cheap beer streaming down his throat.
As he looked back across the street, he saw the antagonising guy headed for his car. Carl would have loved nothing more than to spin the guy's jaw there and then. But he knew he had to be careful now with the cops watching him. He hadn't been out of prison for long enough to be off their watch list, and he knew the pigs would need little excuse to reprimand him.
As the guy drove off, Carl's attention went back to the store, and the clerk who was ready to rat him out if he’d continued. He remembered back in his heyday how he'd held up a few stores like that one, particularly those who needed to pay protection. Lighting up a cigarette, he blew a stream of smoke and mockingly pointed his fingers like a gun.
“Give me all the money in the counter, asshole” he chuckled, as he ‘fired’.
Turning his attention back to his beer, Carl didn’t know what he'd inadvertently set in motion.
***
Back in the store, the clerk was just starting to deal with the college aged guy who'd accidentally bumped into Carl. Tallying up his items, everything seemed to be fine and in order. That's when he felt it. A sharp pain in his temple, like something had grabbed a hold of his head from the inside. He dropped the tin he’d just scanned and held his dome in both hands.
“Arghhh…” he winced, as he felt his eyes roll backwards.
“Woah, are you OK man?!” The guy he was serving asked. Unbeknownst to the customer, the clerks' eyes clouded over with a white mist, just for a moment, before returning to normal. Eventually, the clerk stopped his shaking, taking a few sharp breaths as his vision returned.
“Huh? How did I end up back in the…”
The clerk stopped at the sound of his voice. Looking at his hands, he gasped at the sight of them, frantically feeling himself over.
“Erm, is everything OK?” The customer nervously asked, pretty freaked out by the sudden change in behaviour. When the clerk noticed him though, his expression changed into an annoyed one.
“Didn't I already tell you to fuck off once kid? Now beat it!”
The guy stood aghast for a second, realising the clerk wasn't backing down, before quickly collecting his purchase and heading for the door. That left the clerk to continue wondering what was going on. Until he looked out of the window and saw Carl taking a swig of beer.
“But… that's me!?”
Checking the mobile phone stashed behind the counter, he almost dropped it when he saw the reflection staring back at him. Whatever occupied the guy's mind now wasn't that of some humble Indian-American student, working an evening shift in his dad’s business. It was now acting just like Carl. In fact it was him, in all but body. After a moment, his attention turned to the open cash register. Taking another glance back out at ‘Carl’ outside, then back to the bills and coins, his expression turned into a dark grin.
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