The Pawn Shop

The young boy stood outside the weathered Pawn Shop. As he looked in both directions, the sun-stained crumbling shop was the only building still standing. The rubble and waste of his world slowly creeped around him. He noticed the pools of toxic sludge that decorated the street. There used to be stories of how the sludge was once drinkable. The world used to work with nature instead of against it. There was once a time of pleasure and joy, but those times have dwindled into nothing, like the stars up above. Storm clouds appeared in the far distance, slowly but certainly heading in the young boy’s direction.

When he opened the door, the stench of sweet iron rushed through his nostrils. He saw an elderly man dormant at the counter. His eyes were motionless like a doll, and as the boy came closer, the old man’s eyes focused on him.

“I would like to sell this locket please.” The boy’s voice quivered, avoiding to look into the withered man’s irises.

Tension filled the shop as the heart-shaped locket rested delicately in the boy’s hand. He was told many stories of how the lockets came down from the sky, and that each person was given their own. Even though his parents vaguely warned him of the contents inside, the rumors of riches from within seemed something otherworldly. People would sell their whole fortune for a locket, yet only a few people knew exactly what was inside.

The old man behind the counter only scowled at the naïve young boy. “Do you know what this is?” He said pointing at the locket with distaste. His voice was wet and sour with each syllable projecting questionable amounts of spit. His long fingernails reached out, almost touching the nervous youngling.

With little care, the boy tossed the locket on the counter.

The old man’s eyes widened as he turned his head, seeming as if that was a sign of disrespect. “Go home child.” He spoke from a place of pity. “While you still have time.”

“I don’t want time, I want money.” The child said adamantly, putting his hands in his pockets.

“Is that what you told your parents?”

The young boy’s eyebrows furrowed at the educated guess. “Do as I say.” He pushed out confidence as best as he could. While giving the command, the heart-shaped locket slightly opened and let out a sparkling blue mist.

The old man laughed. “Look child.” A gentle whistle played from inside the locket. “You’re showing me confidence, yet you didn’t intend to. You are not ready to hand over that locket.”

With embarrassment, the boy snatched the locket and kept it close to his chest, stopping the whistle and mist.

“Good, good. Now run along.” The old man grabbed a newspaper and started to read, except the newspaper itself was warped and torn.

“Is it true that the money from the locket is enough for a ticket off of earth? Like in a spaceship? Like everyone else?”

The old man comically put down the newspaper, as if the child had actually been interrupting any reading. “That is correct.” He leaned forward just slightly. “The locket is how you leave earth.” He grinned like the devil.

“Then why can’t I leave? Why can’t you take the locket?”

The old man laughed again. “Because it is in your hand, child.” He leaned back and scratched his chin. His eyebrows lifted as a thought appeared. “If you so desperately want to leave the locket here, then so be it. You will be paid your dues once you step foot outside that door.”

The boy was confused at this proposal. “Why can’t you give me the money now?”

A small smile stretched across his face. “You really don’t know how the locket works do you?” The young boy paused in thought. The old man continued. “You have two options, child. Live your life as intended, or play a game of risk.” He tapped his long yellow fingernail against the counter, teasing him with the offer.

The young boy took a deep breath, walked slowly to the counter, then gently placed the heart-shaped locket. The man nodded and continued to stay quiet. As the boy took his first step outside, he stopped. His whole body began to shake and his face shifted into moments of fear, confusion, and despair. He turned back towards the old man to see him slowly wave goodbye. His old eyes were as dark as night. The young boy’s face began to turn a pale gray. Sand started pouring from his mouth and his muscles became stiff. In a matter of seconds, the child had turned to stone. Slowly disintegrating with the acidic wind, as if his skin was made of a gentle limestone.

The old man shook his head and sighed. Grabbing the locket he opened it to look at the wonders that laid dormant inside. He tilted his head back and opened his mouth while the locket let out a foam of sparkling liquid that slivered down his throat. With each gulp, you could see his adam’s apple aggressively move up and down, to the same rhythm as a heartbeat. Droplets of the liquid covered his face, and his eyes held no pain, no remorse, or sense of struggle. There was only a widened smile that stretched across his unhinged jaw. As he consumed, his skin began to tighten and peel. His yellow fingernails fell to the ground as they were replaced by new ones. Each of his vertebrae cracked right back into place, knocking him upward like the sound of a ticking clock. After he ingested the contents, he wiped his face and stood up as a young man. He looked at the once stone child, which was now only a pile of ashes. “You poor fool.” His voice was soft yet deep. “You should always know the rules of the games you play.”

He walked to a room that was adjacent to his left. Inside was a glistening display of heart shaped lockets. They were stacked upon each other like hoarded gold. Each step was a clink of lockets colliding with each other, all of them open and empty. He grabbed the young boy’s locket from his pocket, closed his eyes with his other hand, and tossed the locket like he was skipping stones. The young man slowly lifted his hand, looked around at all the identical lockets and had a laugh. With a kick in his step and a clash of hollow lockets, he strutted to a broom at the back of the room. Ashes on the storefront would be bad for business.