The Haiku

This shop first passed into my hands two years ago. Mr Smith was a pleasant man to those who knew him but he could be as sour as a lemon to those he did not like (which were generally his customers). I ended up working for the old boy because I had been sacked from my office job for something that I would not rather go into for reasons of my own. I had been looking for jobs in a similar vein to that of my previous one but with no luck. At this unfortunate turn of events I was starting to worry about my family and myself. We all needed support and the money I had saved for a rainy day (I have always been fastidious over my finances, my partner never has) was drying up fast.

In the local paper one day I then saw an advert for an assistant manger for a shop; which said it required somebody trustworthy and intelligent (of which I excel in both). This shop was a tad different to most shops I had been in before. This shop specialised in selling lamps. Now I had never in my life seen a shop that specialised in lamps. Not that one tends to look for such shops in general but it struck me that I had never seen one before. I told this to Mr. Smith who shook my hand and welcomed me to his heart. He understood my predicament and said I would be the perfect assistant manager. As I said he could be extremely pleasant and said he could tell good staff from the off. He claimed he could make solid judgements about people’s characters from first impressions. I was happy with this and began my job having now been in dire need of money. He understood that young men with families were always honest as they had to set good examples for their children. With that successful introduction I went home and celebrated with my family.

The job did not pay particularly well but I was willing to spend many hours there and I had no choice really seeing as no office in this area would employ me because of the reason for my dismissal.

Life in the shop was slow and just went at a solid pace with nothing of note occurring. This was during the summer months. As soon as winter began setting in I noticed a change in Mr. Smith’s personality. Once, when it was beginning to get dark outside and the shop was closing, I began to turn off the lights. At this point Mr. Smith flew into a terrible rage. Seeing this thin man suddenly have an outpouring of such scope made me frightened. I was told that now it was winter and it was getting dark early I was either to turn off all the lights or none at all. I assumed this was Mr. Smith trying to make a point about saving money or making sure he was constantly advertising his objects.

Mr. Smith later died that winter. It turned out that I was the only person that knew him and when I entered his house to collect something that he had left for me I was greeted with a strange sight. It seemed that all of his furniture was placed in the centre of all the rooms I looked in. The place felt like what a rabbit’s warren must be like and Mr Smith had certainly not been making the most of the little space there was. Nothing had been put in the corners of the rooms. Television; chairs; tables; bed and even lamps were all pushed into the centre of each room they occupied. Everything was pitched under a light or a lamp. I soon left the pokey little hole with the possession that Mr Smith had left to me. The key to the shop. The old boy had seen fit to let me have the shop. It was a happy day for my family and me; who I had been seeing less of; because it meant I would be able to move them in above the shop where I worked and which I now owned. There was only one thing which had been playing on my mind and that was a note that had been enclosed within the envelope, which the key had also been in. The note was written in Mr Smith’s idiosyncratic scrawl and was short and simple. I am sure Mr Smith would not think it was invasive of his privacy if I were to tell you. The note simply read:

Believe in darkness
or collect the light. There should
be nothing between.

A tad cryptic I think you may agree. The only sense I could make out of the note is that Mr Smith knew his time was coming and left me this haiku. I think there is a brief religious undertone to it. You see “Believe in darkness” is talking about atheism and “collect the light” is referring to those of us who believe in God. The rest of the strange little poem is saying that we should not be undecided about our fate. I realise this interpretation may seem a tad sloppy but I am happy with it and it also makes me smile to think this is something Mr Smith may have spent his time working on.

Life continued in the shop but I was still seeing less of my family and I have to tell you the truth; this lighting shop made a measly turnover. Each week I was barely making a profit. One thing that was costing me money was the fact that I had slipped into the habit that Mr. Smith used to perform of keeping every light in the place illuminated. This of course used up a barrelful of electricity every week and was also costing me a small fortune in replacing bulbs. One day I decided to turn off some of the lights in the shop to save money.

That’s when the shadows came.