The banging wouldn’t stop, no matter how much I tried to ignore it. My head rolled sideways to glance at the alarm clock; bright red numbers told me it was 11:49. This had been going on for nearly fifteen minutes at this point. I was hesitant about going downstairs to see what was going on, thinking it was just some drunken asshole trying to get into the wrong house, but the longer it went on, the more uncomfortable I got.
Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. I slipped out of my sheets and stumbled through the dark, shoving my phone into the pocket of my pajama pants. Feet sliding over the carpet. My left hand fumbled for the doorknob, my right reaching for the bat I kept in the corner. The door creaked open ever so quietly, and I made my way into the front foyer. The banging seemed to be getting louder now, and I flinched for a moment when I leaned forward to peek out the spyhole as three more knocks rang out.
When I tried again, I saw a man in an ordinary tan trench coat slamming his fist against the door. On my porch sat a briefcase - presumably his. His face did not read of malice, nor was it a mad smile. He just seemed rather plain. But still… who was out this late knocking on doors?
“H-hey…” I called out from the other side. “I don’t know who you are, but-”
The man’s gaze met the spyhole instantly, and there came the smile. “Good evening! Apologies for the late hour, did I wake you?”
“Yes, you did, and if you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police!” I raised my voice so as to not be interrupted again.
“Oh, I beg your pardon, sir! I did not mean to cause you any alarm. I’m just a travelling salesman, looking to make my way. In fact, I have no interest in wasting more than ten minutes of your time. If you’re still not satisfied by then, I will take my leave.”
My hand was already in my pocket, resting on my phone. But in the moment, I was just completely befuddled - a midnight salesman? What the hell kind of profession is this? “Are you joking, mate?”
“No joke at all, sir!” The man rested an open palm across his heart. “Listen, I know this is completely out of place. But all I ask for is nine minutes, now, nine minutes of your time, just to listen. I’m not even asking you to open your door, just to hear my pitch. Hell, for all I know, you might have a shotgun cocked and ready for me!”
My grip on the bat tightened ever so slightly.
“And that is totally justified, my good sir! I mean, what reckless soul would be out at this hour?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly my point. So why are you here waking me up in the middle of the night?”
The man smiled gently. “You see, most people these days are out working during the day. That makes my profession much harder, as when they ARE home, they either wish to get out the door, or are trying to relax with their families. So, I tend to try and find any souls that are up late into the evening instead.”
“Doesn’t sound like a great business model, I’m gonna be real with you.”
“Once again, you are absolutely right! But it’s the best I can do, you see. Gotta feed the wife somehow; got our first on the way, you see.”
“Well… congrats to ya, but I’m not interested, sorry. Please leave, or I’m going to call the cops.”
“Look, please…” the man’s face grew sullen, clasping both hands together at his belt buckle. “I haven’t been able to get anyone’s attention all night. If you could just give me five m-”
“I’m sorry, look, I’m really not inter-”
“THREE minutes, that’s all I ask, quick three minute sales pitch, and I’ll be right on my way. You don’t even have to step out-”
“Sir, please-”
“Okay, okay! How about I just show you what I’m selling, you say yes or no, and then I’m gone? Yeah?”
I could see the sweat trickling down his brow in the porch light. “Look, man, this is getting real weird, I’m calling the-”
Continuing to ignore me, the man lifted up his suitcase and started spinning the combination locks. “My name is Edward Ferguson, I’m a door-to-door sales expert on behalf of Gerard Metal-cutting. We only make… hrngh… the most high quality… hmph…” - the briefcase was giving him some trouble - “.. the finest household products and utensils, with the best metal… around!” CLICK!
I shook my head in disbelief. “Okay, whatever, what do you sell?” I was just tired and wanted him off the porch, at this point. If he’d go after showing me what he had, it was faster than dealing with the cops at this point. My eye was still on him through the spyhole, but the opened briefcase was impossible to see inside of, with the porch light casting its contents in shadow.
“I can’t see what’s in it, can you bring it into the light?”
The man turned and noticed it. “Oh-! My bad, sorry about that. Here…” He backed away from the door and turned the case towards the light source. “Can you see it now?”
Well, now it was all reflecting the light at that angle, but it was definitely metal. “What is it?”
“Keys.”
As he adjusted the case proudly in his hands, I squinted harder. “What?”
“I sell keys.” That he did. The entire case was filled to the brim with keys. Car keys, house keys, mailbox keys, old fashioned keys you’d find in the 1800s.
“W-why…”
He looked at the case, then back towards the door. “Well, everybody needs keys, don’t they?”
I slid the phone out of my pocket. “But you don’t have any locks to accompany them. Why do you sell just.. random keys?”
The man frowned at that question, and my confusion turned to cold tingles. He didn’t give an answer, only trying to present the case to me while looking back and forth occasionally.
This was well beyond the point of crazy now, and it was clear that he wasn’t going to “just leave” after having been told no, so I lowered my head and started putting in 9-1-1. With my thumb hovering the dial button, I was about to declare that I was finally calling the police. I heard a loud clattering of metal before more scuffling with the door.
Looking through the hole, I could see Edward pressed right up against the spyhole… and I could hear the doorknob shaking. After a moment of frustration, he scowled and backed off, tossing something shiny onto my lawn - before reaching back into the case and grabbing another key. I immediately pressed the button and screamed for the operator to send help quickly. She told me to hide in a locked room away from the front door, and to find something to defend myself with.
Just as I started to run away into my home, I could hear the “salesman” mutter from the other side: “Don’t start thinking your key’s not here.”
The rattling disappeared a few minutes later, and shortly after the operator stated that the police were just pulling up. When I stepped out onto the porch to talk to them, I noticed the doorknob had a key sticking out of it. Impulsively, I wrapped the edges of my sleeve around my fingers and pulled on it.
It slid out perfectly.
Written by RedNovaTyrant
Content is available under CC BY-SA