Merchandise: A Short Story

By Michael Wright

Jim Shoemaker comes upon an interesting new business venture of his neighbors, a never-ending yard sale. But there is more to this sale than meets the eye.

Bram and Linda Cain are ideal folks, they're the perfect young couple with a terrible secret. Jim is about to find that their cute slogan "We Sell Anything" is more true than he could ever imagine.

“Merchandise is an excellent book—a real page turner. Read it in one sitting.” – Kurt Frazier, author of 49098 to 36575

If you like what you read, write a review and spread the word!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Michael Wright
• Release date: Sep 12, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465862990

Book preview

MERCHANDISE

BY MICHAEL WRIGHT

Published by Michael Wright at Smashwords

Copyright 2011 Michael Wright

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided the book remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.

"Merchandise is an excellent book—a real page turner. Read it in one sitting." – Kurt Frazier, author of 49098 to 36575

I

AS JIM Shoemaker walked down the road, the pounding hammer ahead meant absolutely nothing to him, but it would soon come to mean a lot more than he could have ever imagined—not in his worst nightmares.

His white T-shirt was growing a ring of sweat around the collar, outlining his head in a most unique way, and his wind-pants were rustling as he moved slowly down the road, following the white line to his right down the road. The uneven shoulder was great walking ground; he found the ground easy enough to walk on. It wasn’t the easiest, but that gave him a bit more of a workout.

The clouds on the horizon danced in the wind, their tremendous forms shifting and changing moment by moment, The burning eye of the sun glared down on him, bringing warmth to his exposed arms and the back of his neck, stopping right where the shaggy ends of his brown hair, which was held down with the first fruits of a hard sweat, met the skin.

He slowed as he came up on a man standing by the street, a signpost in one hand and a hammer in the other. He swung it hard, with a force that didn’t seem like it could possibly come out of a man his size, but the post was set in only a few moments, and there was hardly a drop of sweat on his face.

Jim took a glance at him and took in the neat, ironed khakis and the white button-up shirt, sleeves rolled about mid-forearm, the tanned skin that was exposed was obviously the work of a tanning bed. His face was almost unlined, except for the creeping marks on his forehead and near his eyes. His face was just as tanned as his forearms, probably by the same tanning routine. His black hair was swept back in a deliberately suave manner, not a single strand out of place, held in place tightly by, no doubt, several hair care products. He was a picture-perfect man, and that was probably the point. Jim approached the sign and stopped to catch his breath a moment.

The man smiled and tapped the post that he had just finished beating the devil out of, and said something to Jim.

Jim held up a finger and pulled the earbuds that were spitting out music from his iPod, which hid deep inside the labyrinth of his pocket.

I’m sorry?

I was just saying that it’s a beautiful day for a walk. The man said.

That’s what I thought. Jim said, Gotta take as much advantage of this weather as I can. It won’t be here forever.

You do a lot of walking? The man asked.

Jim nodded, his eye catching the shining head of the hammer still clutched firmly—very firmly—in the man’s hand. Yeah, at least three times a week.

Really? Surprised I haven’t seen you before. I’m here a lot of the time, work out of home, you know.

Jim nodded, trying to be as polite as he possibly could.

Starting up a little bit of work on the side here, he thumped the sign, one of Linda’s new work-at-home ideas. I think it’s pretty good, you know?

Jim looked down at the sign. At first he wasn’t sure what he was looking at, even though it was very self-explanatory.

WHATCHA NEED: NEVER-ENDING YARD SALE

WE SELL ANYTHING.

That is something else. Jim said. I’ve never seen one of those before.

Well, the man started, Their growing in popularity in some places, it’s basically like a store outside that you can find a bunch of used odds and ends at. We go around and select some things from used bookstores, pawn shops, thrift stores, and just collect all the best stuff and sell it here.

Quite the idea. What is it you sell?

The man tapped the sign again. Anything.

Anything?

Yes, anything.

Jim looked back down at the sign and at the man’s front yard, seeing nothing there at all. The grass as very nicely cut, and there were a couple of gnomes that were more creepy than cute, tucked by the decent sized trees that had sprung over the years long before the other couple had ever moved in.

Where do they keep the stuff? He wondered.

The man stuck out his hand. My name’s Bram Cain, by the way.

Jim snapped his eyes back to the man—Bram—and he took his hand. Like Bram Stoker?

No, he laughed, like Abraham in the Bible. My parents were real religious, you know. I just never took to being called ‘Abraham.’ Bram works for me.

Jim Shoemaker.

Great meeting you, Jim. The man let go of his hand. Jim couldn’t help but notice how