something in between

by nick nelson

don had no qualifications or skills, but he needed a job. he was at wendy’s and he saw harry, a guy he had known from somewhere. they said hello, and harry, who had just purchased a cup of coffee, sat down across from don. harry asked don what he was doing lately, and don said he was looking for a job but had not had any luck. harry said, you should try the want ads in the newspapers, you might be surprised at what you see. don just nodded. he never read newspapers, had never bought one in his life.. harry continued, sometimes you see weird stuff, weirder than anything you would see online, like on craigslist. the papers probably have high school kids taking the ads, working after school, so weird stuff gets in. how much does a newspaper cost? don asked harry. i don’t know. last time i bought one i think it was two dollars. it might be more now. two dollars! just to look at a want ad? i don’t think so, don laughed. you don’t have to buy one, people throw them away, leave them in places like this. or you can go to the library. they have the paper in the library, but you might have to wait if somebody else is reading it. harry looked around the wendy’s. look there, on that seat over there, he told don, that looks like a paper there that somebody left. don nodded. thanks, bro, i will check it out. harry finished his cup of coffee and left. don went over and took the newspaper that harry had pointed out off the seat. he took the paper back to his own seat. don was unfamiliar with newspapers and there was no index on the front page, even if he had known enough to look for one. there were about thirty pages in the paper and he flipped through them and was about to give up when he came across the want ads which took up about one third of one page. the shortest ad read - “helper wanted. call satan. ” and gave a local number. don had heard the word satan but was not sure what t meant. he knew it was something bad, like devil or hitler or vampire but was not sure exactly what. he took out his phone and dialed the number. what sounded like a live voice - a man’s voice - answered immediately . this is satan. um - i saw your ad in the paper - for a helper. what are you willing to do? satan asked. uh - just about anything. just about anything? just just about anything? anything, don heard himself saying. then you sound like the guy for me. come on over. satan proceeded to give don directions to a building on the west side. don knew the area, and found it with no problem. the area had been mostly torn down since don had seen it last. satan’s little office was on the seventh floor of a building still standing between two demolished ones. satan looked about fifty years old, with a bald head and five o’clock shadow. it looked like he was wearing a dress, but don could not be sure because satan remained seated behind a desk. don could not see satan’s feet, but was not curious as to whether he had cloven hooves because he dd not know about such things. if he was wearing a dress, did that make him a “trans women”? or a “trans man”? don could not keep things like that straight. i got one thing i want you to do, said satan. do you think you can do it? i’ll give it my best shot, don answered. your best shot, huh? its really pretty simple. i’ll give it my best shot, don repeated. satan took a polaroid photo out of a desk drawer and pushed it across to don. see this guy? the picture showed an ordinary looking white man in a somewhat old fashioned suit. go to the corner of washington and third street at four o’clock on next thursday and this guy will come by. you got that? don nodded. if he is wearing a tie, satan continued, say to him, sir, that tie doesn’t go with that suit. and if he is not wearing a tie, say, sir, that shirt does not go with that suit? you got that? do i have to use those exact words? no, just get the message across . will he know me? don asked. will he know who i am? no, you will know him. what if his tie really does go with the suit. or the shirt really does go with the suit? what are you, a smart guy? i didn’t ask for a smart guy, did i? i asked if you would do anything. this is the anything. all right, said don, and then what happens? i don’t know. that’s what we will find out. nothing at all might happen, he might just walk on by, or the universe might disappear, or something in between. how much do i get paid? don asked. if the world doesn’t come to an end, and you can make it back here, i will pay you thirty dollars. sound familiar? not really, said don, but i will do it. * don stood in front of a walgreen’s on the corner of washington and third street at four o’clock on thursday afternoon. the man from the photo approached. he was wearing a light blue suit, with a white shirt and a red tie. don stepped in front of the man. sir, he said, that tie doesn’t go with that suit.