It wasn’t clear to Craig when the problem with the green slime had started. Surely it had dated back to childhood, yet he could recall many slime free years between then and now. He had been out of college seven years and was going on his sixth year at Mattress Giant, second as assistant floor manager and third year as sales leader in both king- and queen-sized categories. Something about twin beds just didn’t “click” for him and he willingly conceded that trophy to Alice the young recluse who had transferred from Saratoga. He felt ok letting her have it because it was about the only thing in her life, she had besides an unmentioned skin condition he never felt comfortable asking her about.
The slime didn’t just appear unceremoniously one day; it was a gradual and barely perceptible progression. Droplets of it slowly seeped into his studio apartment, nearly microscopic at first but becoming the size of jelly beans and then, as of now, eggs. It was once the slime appeared at work that things became more difficult. He would apologize to customers and try to wipe it off the mattress pillow tops before they laid down for a test run but this was met with puzzled expressions. Slowly Craig came to realize that they didn’t see it. They didn’t know it was there. They would lay down in it, roll around on top of it and get back up without a clue. He had a gift (besides that of selling larger sized bedding). He could see the green slime where no other person seemingly noticed. He knew that with great power came great responsibility but what exactly his responsibilities were in this situation were unclear.
It was an unseasonably warm Monday in March when things began to unravel. Craig strode into work in his usual upbeat manner with silver travel mug and newspaper in hand when he noticed an unusual sight, Alice was smiling.
“Heyyyy Craig” she lisped at him just tucking a smile out of sight.
“Hey, Alice” he hesitated, raising his eyebrows. He walked past her towards the office but couldn’t help but feel the goofy look on her face burning into the back of his head. He desperately wanted to turn around and confront her but resisted. Alice knew something; it was dripping out her pores. Her face had a semblance of joy never before seen in the halls of Mattress Giant.
Fuck, Craig thought. The monthly sales data came in today. Craig tried to squeeze the fear from his brain, to wring it out like oatmeal from an overused dish rag. There was no way, no fucking way that Alice could have beaten him. His mind raced, sweat beaded on his forehead the way it would when he had to make eye contact with the checkout girl at the grocery store. He was the sales leader for king and queen sizes beds for three years. Three fucking years. He had never been challenged; he had never worried about the possibility of anyone surpassing him. He was on his way to becoming a legend, a giant amongst mattress giants. There was no fucking way.
“Craig, c’mere a minute” called the Marlboro voiced summons from his supervisor and sometime sexual fantasy Mrs. Bonnie Bensen. Though he’d be horrified to admit it, being as Bonnie was 30 years older than him; Craig liked to imagine her and him as desert island survivors in a kind of mother and son Blue Lagoon scenario. When they ran on the beach together, she was still wearing her control top pantyhose and they made sweet love endlessly on top an active volcano while monkeys chattered all around them.
“Be right there Bon” he said tipping his coffee mug as he set it down. A few splashes of slime bubbled out the top. Craig ambled up to Bonnie’s desk, god the slime was everywhere today. It was pooled in droplets on the desktop, leaking out her tear ducts and nostrils and dripping down the framed motivational poster on the wall behind her. She can’t see it he repeated to himself. She can’t see it.
“Craig, I don’t like to dick around” she said. (God, she knew just how to turn him on) “You know that. The sales figures for last month are in and Alice sold more king-sized beds than you. I’m a lot surprised and a little disappointed but it had to end sometime, right?”
Craig forced his mouth into a grin. “Can’t be on top every month” he emphasized with a good ol’ jab of the elbow. “And I still lead queen size sales.”
“Well, actually no” Bonnie said shuffling slime coated papers on her desk. “Dick Johnson beat you by one mattress last month.”
How could that nicotine laced voice that always sounded so wise and so sexy now seem so cruel? How could the world so suddenly become such an unfriendly place? Craig chose to answer these questions by collapsing to his knees and breaking into loud sobs. His face burned red and the tears flowed effortlessly. If Bonnie noticed, she showed it by logging into her computer.
“Sales are a tough business” she said not bothering to look up from her email. “It will get you at some point. If you need a couple days off, I understand”.
Craig continued to cry, and truth be told, it felt good. He hadn’t cried in years probably and something about the release made him feel alive. He knelt there on the coarse grey rug for what felt like hours until finally, wiping his eyes dry with his shirt sleeves, he coaxed his feet back underneath him and took three exaggerated breaths while fanning his face with his blue striped tie. The slime had overtaken the room; everything had a phosphorescent glow to it now.
“I think I’ll be fine” he said. “I’m just going to get back to work now.”
“Sounds good” Bonnie rasped. “Will you send Dick in please?” Bonnie finished typing whatever she had been working on and looked up at Craig above the rim of her pearl colored glasses. She held her blank expression until he turned and left.
The rest of the day was a green blur. If Craig sold any mattresses, he couldn’t remember. All that he knew was that on that day it felt like his heart was on the verge of stopping at any given moment. His breath was short and the steady stream of sweat on his brow never slowed its balmy percolation. He didn’t know how he managed to finish his shift or even how he got home. The only flashback he could muster, though not voluntarily, was that of opening the door to his Kia and the slime, like some fetid afterbirth splashing out onto the pavement. He gagged but nothing came up.
At home the mail was suspended in a cube of slime in the mailbox. The TV screen was covered with the stuff, and when Craig went to heat up his traditional Monday night burrito in the microwave, there was no room for it. He attempted to gnaw through the frozen tortilla but realized his appetite was gone. The burrito landed on the floor with an empty thud.
No one at the store was surprised when Craig didn’t come in the next day, or even the day after that. After a week, some of them wrestled with feelings of curiosity, concern, and ultimately relief. They were probably better off not knowing what happened to him. Maybe he’d be showing up soon, maybe he was on a vacation, maybe he was in a cell somewhere. Alice certainly wasn’t worrying about it. For the first time in her life, she was on top. She was a winner. She had purpose and people saw her as something more than a dermatological curiosity.
As time went on, the picture of Craig in the back hallway, his arm so confidently resting across a stack of Sealy Posturepedics, collected dust. The plaques regaling the world of his impressive sales feats went unnoticed as the sales personnel of the store eventually turned over -except for Alice, who was closing in on Craig’s record. She had been holding dearly to the notion that she would one day beat him and after two years and seven months, she was getting close enough to taste it. She would often walk past Craig’s picture and snicker at it, taunting him with the idea that she would soon be the new record holder at Mattress Giant. Things were good, she was unchallenged. On one of these passes, with victory in sight, Alice noticed something different in the corner of the picture; something unusual, something green.
John Lundquist - Writer & Content Strategist 