Unraveled

The face on the driver's license looked nothing like the face before me. It was the same person, but a lifetime separated the picture from the person. I felt like I was witnessing a life unraveling.

He walked in an hour before closing, maybe my age, looking for items so he could 'get away'. The skin stretched across his face was pale to the point of being translucent. The words he spoke slurred together and his eyes couldn't seem to find anything to focus on. He kept leaving to go out to his car and then would return a few minutes later to check out more stuff.

We all started speculating as to what he was on. We all helped him navigate the store, making a pile of items on the front counter we never thought he would purchase. Items that would sit on hold for 3 days and then make their way back to the floor.

He asked my opinion about how he looked in 3 different sweaters and 5 different belts. I picked the gray sweater because it made him look a little less like a ghost. He asked how his butt looked in a pair of pants. I said fine. Every now and then I would hear my name called out over the racks to come see what I thought about one shirt over another. You could see a longing in his eyes beyond the unfocused stare, maybe simply to be told he looked good, well, whole.

At first he was going to put everything on hold. Then he decided to call his dad. Every day I listen to kids beg their parents, the longing in their voice for items they are holding in their hands, the fear they are going to have to put it back. This was the same conversation, asking his dad for a sweater and pants and a bag that he really liked.

He was trying to thread his new belt through his new pants while talking on the phone. You could tell he was coming down off whatever was coursing through his veins, teetering on the edge of falling asleep standing up. I wanted to walk over and either help with the belt or hold the phone, something to make the process a little easier.

Because the transaction was taking place without an actual card, we requested his driver's license for photo I.D. and the number. That is when I saw the photo. The face that was no longer his. A round young face with bright eyes and a big smile. What happened between that photo and this version of that person? Was his dad buying a sweater and pants for the ghost man standing in the store or the boy in the photo?

We shook hands once all was said and done. He thanked me for my help and I told him to take care of himself. The bag he purchased may wind up sold for junk, but I hope he keeps the sweater to stay warm. I hope the face from the driver's license comes back.