Chapter Four

“Dude, just sit the hell down! If you break something my Dad will freak.” Ben didn’t need this from Jerry tonight. Not with the power going out and such crappy weather. It was like a dozen winters rolled into one and he was stuck in his father’s video store not knowing what to do for the best.

“Chill out, B-Dog!” said Jerry, shining his key ring torch into his face and contorting his skeletal features into a ghoulish grimace. The DVD cases on the cluttered shelves behind him shone with each movement of the light. “You need to stop worrying about your slave-driving old man. It’s not like he ever does anything for you – other than work you to death, that is, and make you come in on a day where everything else is closed. An important meeting, my arse! He just couldn’t be bothered to waste another day at the Video Store of the Damned.”

Ben frowned, though it was too dark in the store’s dusty back-office for Jerry to see it. “Stop calling it that! The place is doing just fine. He really did have a meeting, and it’s not every day he trusts me to look after Blue Rays on my own either, so the last thing I need is you making my life hard, okay? Just behave and don’t mess anything up.”

“Okay, okay,” Jerry conceded. “What would you like me to do with myself, oh wise Gandalf?”

Ben threw his head back and cursed. “I told you to stop calling me that!”

“Get rid of that gay beard and I will. Either that or I’ll get some hairy-assed Hobbits in here so you can feel more at home.”

“Just…” Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sit down will you, while I try to get the power back on.”

Thankfully, Jerry complied, hoisting his stick-like figure up onto the service desk and remaining quiet. Ben could still hear him fidgeting away for anything to get his spindly fingers on, but at least for now he was rooted in one place; his area of recklessness limited.

Sometimes Ben didn’t know why he put up with Jerry. They’d known each other since they were peeing in pre-school sandpits, but for some reason his friend had never seemed to mature mentally like he had. Ben had gone to College, whilst Jerry sponged off his mom and stepdad. Ben started dating girls, whilst Jerry brought an Xbox – and then later an Xbox 360. Finally, Ben had started to shoulder some of his dad’s business responsibilities, ready to one day take them on as his own, and Jerry…? Well now Jerry spent most his days hanging around Blue Rays Rentals bothering him and making fun of his beard or ‘jelly-belly’. Still, they were best friends and Ben knew that if it ever came down to it, Jerry would do anything for him. There was something comforting about that. Not like anybody else cares. Besides, deep down, Ben liked having Jerry around. Despite the odd annoyances, they had a lot of fun together. Even the Ben and Jerry jokes didn’t really bother him too much anymore. Tonight however, Jerry was stretching his patience paper-thin.

“When you gonna get the lights on again?” Jerry asked. “It’s like Saturday Night Fever in here.” He swept his penlight around the room, strobing the low-hung, suspended ceiling like a disco hall. Movie posters of a disgruntled-looking Deniro and an uncomfortable-looking Ben Stiller lit up and disappeared as the light passed over them.

“If it is, you’re no John Travolta!” Ben walked across to the far side of the office, behind the IKEA computer desk and towards the fuse box. He didn’t know anything about electrics and he was hoping to flick a switch and be done with it. Likely, it would be more complicated than that.

Before the power had gone off, Ben had been watching the news with Jerry (well, to be more honest, Jerry was waiting for a re-run of The Matrix to come on). The reports had said that the country’s infrastructure was expected to be affected by the snow for several more days and that blackouts were likely as people’s heating usages rose to monumental amounts. It didn’t bother Ben too much, so long as nothing happened to his father’s store whilst he was in charge of it; that was the main thing. The way he saw it, people just loved an excuse to panic, and the snow was their most recent fixation. You wouldn’t catch him freaking out though. Ben’s father had taught him better than that; taught him about being a man, and about how business came first.

Before anything else.

Before silly little friendships with that imbecile, Jerry.

Ben shook his father’s words out of his head and pulled out his keys from his pocket, sifting through them one by one.

There must be twenty keys here! I don’t even know what Dad uses most of them for. I’m sure one of them is for the fuse box though. It’s a little silver one if I remember correctly…

Earlier, he and Jerry had become concerned by the amount of snow that had been falling throughout the day – especially as it seemed to be worldwide (was that even possible?) – and, when it had started to pile up above knee height, the two of them had gone across to the supermarket down the lane – which was also, surprisingly, open – to stock up on snacks and beers in case they got stuck there. They were willing to wait it out if they had to, but Ben hoped Jerry could keep his exuberance under control during that time. His best friend had a knack for breaking things. Ben called it the Jerry-effect.

Ben swung open the fuse cabinet and flicked open his monogrammed lighter. He’d stopped smoking months ago but it had been a present from his father – and they were too few and far between to just go discarding them. His eyes glazed for a second as they adjusted to the light and, when his vision finally compensated, he blinked, unsure of what he was seeing. From the look of things, the entire fuse box had burnt out and melted in a flash of intense heat. It was a mess and smelt like singed rubber. It made no sense at all. Wasn’t the whole point of having fuses to prevent things like this? Power surges and whatnot? There wasn’t anything he could think of that could cause such severe heat damage, especially without burning anything outside of the fuse box. It was entirely localised to the area within the metal frame and not a speck of paint was damaged beyond that. It was strange, for sure. Ben plucked at his scruffy brown beard rhythmically as he tried to find a thought that fit, a thought that didn’t worry him. A thought that wasn’t insane. But all he could think was…

Dad will blow a fuse of his own when he finds out about this.

At that moment, Jerry shouted out from the shop floor. “What’s happening, Gandalf? You squeezing one out in there or what?”

Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Dude, I swear, not now, okay!”

“Okay, okay,” Jerry said. “Don’t get your beard in a twist. It’s not like it’s the end of the world – although we are missing The Matrix.”


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