Block's Arc

Chapter 4 of 6

The district rep left at eleven with the folder under his arm. Block watched the gray sedan pull out of the lot and turn past the mall. The inflatable kept waving by the curb. Then Block looked at the clock and did the math. Doors opened at five. Three free tapes per member. Sixty-eight confirmed heads, plus walk-ins pulled in by the ad. One register. One clerk. Him. He pulled the notebook and counted the Friday closers he'd ever worked. The busiest had been eighty rentals in a night. Tonight would be triple that if half the RSVPs showed. Burned popcorn service on a promo night would sour the exact people he needed. A long line at the counter would become the story instead of the store. Block locked the door, flipped the sign to BACK IN 20, and crossed the lot. He tried the clothing store first. The manager said both her girls were on the clock till nine. He tried the grocery next. Same answer. Every teenager in a name tag was already spoken for on a Friday. He stopped at the curb by the blue mailbox and thought. The RSVP column in the notebook had sixty-eight names. Sixty-eight people who had already said yes to him this week. He walked back to the store, opened the notebook to the RSVP page, and started dialing. He told each one the same thing. The promo was on. The line would be long. If they came an hour early and worked the floor for thirty minutes, he'd add a fourth free tape to their stack. He needed people who knew the store. Shane said yes. The woman with the two kids said yes and offered her sister. A retired teacher who rented two westerns a week said he'd bring a folding chair for the line. By four o'clock Block had nine volunteers. At five he unlocked the door. The nine were already there. Block handed each a blue rental basket and a job. Two ran returns from the drop slot back to the shelves. Two walked the aisles helping people find titles. One held the door and counted heads on a legal pad. Shane bagged tapes at the counter while Block scanned. The line moved. Nobody waited more than four minutes. The head-counter clicked past two hundred by eight o'clock. At nine-thirty the last customer left with three tapes and a receipt. The shelves were thin. The register tape ran the length of the counter. Block locked the door and sat on the floor behind the counter with the notebook open on his knee. Two hundred and thirty-one rentals. Zero walk-outs. Nine names underlined twice. He wrote a tenth line at the bottom: SEND THIS COUNT TO THE DISTRICT REP MONDAY. Then he wrote, under it: THEY CAME BECAUSE I ASKED. Corporate still had not called. But Monday, he had a number to mail.