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GameReaper88 · 10-30-2007, 09:14 PM

The phone rings four times before I can get to it, I pick it up and get a dial tone. The secretary girl isn’t coming in until 9am it’s only 7am. This whole place feels held together with gum and Band-Aids, in fact some of it is. None of the other workers have shown up yet, although they do still have ten minutes to go. When the boss is away the workers will play and show up a half hour late. The boss is out having his knee’s replaced and then taking a vacation. He left the whole place to me for three months; the 19-year-old nephew of the owner running Albasa Door and Window Inc. Its not fair to me or the other workers, but I’m not going to let them see me step down, nor is it fair to them that they have to listen to somebody who is half their age. My uncle, the owner thought it would be a good idea to teach me a lesson about life or at least make me work harder then I thought I would have to this summer. That’s fine but now I don’t know what to do with my life. I was planning on majoring in mechanical engineering, but being the owner of a company doesn’t look too half bad either. Uncle Bob made mention of retiring soon.
“Hey Easy Life!” John Bellows, “Where are my doughnuts? Bob always buys doughnuts”
Boss only buys doughnuts every other Friday John, and besides I don’t have the same pocket book he does.
“There goes easy life always whining about money” John retorts as if he were projecting to a crowd.
Scott comes in, half awake as usual. “What are you guys bitching about now?” Scott says with a yawn.
I’m not bitching about anything, John just wants free breakfast.
“Don’t you start that Easy Life,” John says, “He thinks he can do anything, I don’t think he can do half the junk he says he can do. He’s always relating apples to potatoes and never has anything good to say about anything. I’m surprised Bob let him take over. It’s just not right, I give this place ten years of my life, and I deserve to run it.”
Go-ahead John talk about me like I’m not even here.
John continues, “The stupid kid is always whining about not having any money but he wont let me loan him any.”
“That’s right, a loan means you have to pay them back, and I just don’t want that responsibility Its just too much to keep track of. I’ve got a friend with half a notebook full of I.O.U.’s”, I say while straightening a paper clip out. “Why do you guys always have to pick on me anyway? I’ve been here a year why cant you give me just a teeny bit of respect?”
“Aw look at that he thinks we are mean to him,” John says. Scott laughs and replies “Yea poor little kid cant deal with the big mean door installers”
“Alright” I say, “That’s enough, lets not forget who does all the jobs you guys refuse to do. Remember a week ago? Pouring rain and there I am in the middle of it 10 feet in the air with the arc welder. The job needed to be done and you wouldn’t do it. And I did it for 7 bucks less an hour then you would have. Lets not forget I do everything you do but for minimum wage.”
“Bull***** you don’t get paid minimum wage,” Scott says
“Bullshit I don’t” I yell back, “okay, okay fine its 8 bucks an hour but you make 19 and John gets almost 21.”
“Oh my god Easy Life just admitted to being wrong,” John laughs
“For gods sake guys, get to work! Your late!” The punch clock thumps, its 8am, or some variant of 5 minutes, I toss the clipboards on the table. “If you have any problems with the billing just call the office just like any other day, pretend I am Bob.
“Oh pretend like you are Bob, I can do that” Scott chuckles “I can definitely pretend you are an idiot and running the company straight into the dirt.”
“Just get to work and stop ragging on your employer so much, you don’t have to kiss his ass and call it ice cream but have some respect. I mean the guy in a way of speaking pays for everything you have.” I say as I get up to stretch, “now seriously, get out to the damn shop load your trucks and get on the way before I get people bitching on the phone at me for something I didn’t do.”
The phone rings, “Guys I have to take this, please just get to work” I answer the phone as John and Scott drag their feet out into the shop. It is a customer wanting to know if she can just leave a key under the mat because she needs to step out for a couple hours. It always amazes me how many people are willing to leave keys under the mats for complete strangers. I am obligated to tell her however that she cannot do that. It isn’t as though we don’t trust our employees it is that in the unlikely event somebody robs her while she is away we are the most likely suspects. That and its time to pay the bills, we need cash in hand so the checks Bob will be writing are covered.
I kick my feet up onto the desk, and start playing computer solitaire. After what felt like five hundred rounds of solitaire the secretary walks in. I shouldn’t say secretary; she is more of a friend of a friend of the real secretary who is busy with a newborn.
“It’s 11am your late” I say, stretching out from playing solitaire for so long.
“My car wouldn’t start” say says hoping to get off easy (I know this isn’t true, her car is nicer and newer then mine) “So is your phone broken too?” I ask.
“No, my phone works, why?” she says
“Because the next time your going to come in late call and let me know, I was starting to wonder if you were coming in at all.”
“Well you know 9am is just so early, it’s too hard for me to get up that early”, she whines.
“Your kidding right? I’ve been up since 6 am, and my work day isn’t over until it’s over, you get to punch out at three.”
“Well, actually I was promised 300 dollars a week until Jen came back” She retorts.
“Whatever, you’ve made me late, and now you need to sit down here and start making some phone calls, and don’t forget to let the people know how much they owe us when we are done with repairs or installs. And do whatever it is secretaries do all day.” I begin to walk out to the shop when I hear her say real quiet, “What the hell is his problem?” Immediately I stick my head back into the office and say “Do whatever the hell you want, everybody else around here does, I don’t give a damn anymore today. I’ve got work to do, actual work, you know that thing you don’t feel like doing.” I stomp my way out to the shop and begin loading up my truck. I almost can’t stand people like that. I would have killed for a job that promised a set rate regardless of how well I did my job. Here I am breaking my back to run a company that isn’t even mine. Its either that or get a huge loan to cover the price of school.
Six o’clock, quitting time, I pack my tools into the back of the truck, slam the gate shut, and slide into the driver seat. I start the car and hope for a good song to play on the radio.

GameReaper88 · 10-30-2007, 09:15 PM

It is finally time to go home. Home, that place feels held together with gum and band-aids too. It’s been almost a year. My mom retired and my dad is a musician, but musicians never really retire. They had been planning on moving to Florida since I started high school. Now I have the house all to myself. The deal was if I could get my bachelors degree in 4 years and take care of my own personal bills, I would be able to buy the house off of them once I got a job in my major. It feels almost the same, except now the house is empty and every month my parents mail me money for the water, gas and electric bill. So I get free boarding as long as I keep up with my schoolwork. A nice 1500 square foot ranch house with attached 2-car garage. It’s a college sophomores dream house. It still looks and smells like home but still doesn’t feel like home. I’m pretty sure my neighbors hate me and I’ve got reason to believe one of them thinks I may have killed my parents. But on the other hand I don’t much care for any of them either. Its 5:30 on a Monday, and I’m almost back to the shop to trade vehicles, I’ve got no homework, nothing to do and nowhere to go, especially nowhere to go.
I kick my dusty work boots off and leave them in the middle of the kitchen floor. Peeling my work shirt off, I drape it over a kitchen chair and I flop onto the sofa in the living room. I mash the buttons on the remote so I don’t have to look and hope to hit the power button. The TV crackles and snaps, the screen slowly brightens, I am greeted with Ron Popeil telling me something about setting it and forgetting it. I quickly change the channel I hate infomercials. The phone rings, but I don’t answer it, the caller ID says it is the cable company. It’s the only bill my parents wont pay for so it’s the only bill that is paid late. I can afford it, I just think for 30 dollars a month they can wait a few extra days, besides they turned me down for a job three times. I let the phone ring until the machine got it. My stomach growls and I roll onto the floor. There isn’t any food in the house, I can afford groceries but the last thing I feel like doing on a Monday night is go to the grocery store. Sounds like pizza again.
The pizza boy is knocking at my door, I get up and dig my wallet out and open the door. The pizza boy is fidgeting with the heated case.
“Oh… Um… Large pepperoni, extra cheese?” He asks, just a little too excited about his job.
“Yep” I say trying not to look directly at him, he stares at me.
“Cool, that’ll be $12.75 please.” He is still fidgeting and over eager.
“Here’s 20, just give me 2 bucks back” I trade the money for the pizza and have to fight myself from devouring it on the spot.
“Wow, thanks mister!” he practically throws the 2 dollars at me and almost skips back to his beater of a car, he pulls out of my driveway and his car grinds its way down the street.
“Mister?” I say to myself, closing the door, since when was I a mister? Does he know I am running a company on my own? I don’t think so, but maybe having that responsibility changes somebody. Opening the box I find inside a wonder of wonders, a perfectly made pizza. After eating all but three pieces of the pizza I toss the box and its contents into my nearly totally vacant fridge. I sit down in my 1980’s lazy boy I had found on the side of the road just a few months earlier. I begin to channel surf and I doze off. Somewhere after channel forty-seven I fell asleep. I wake up hours later, my wall grandfather clock dings once, its eleven thirty. My hand is still clamped on the tv remote, my thumb still holding down the up button. I can hear the TV blip as it struggles to change channel and put out sound at the same time. I can hear what woke me up. I can smell the humidity. A storm had developed outside. The lightning was lighting up my living room through the dark brown curtains. I let go of my remote and flick on the lamp next to me, the bulb hums coming to temperature. “Mister huh”, I say to myself, “maybe I am a mister. I’m heading for twenty and I feel like I’ve got the world at my feet.” The lightning blinks again, the rain pounding on my roof and into my gutters. I can barely he ar the thunder. I get up from my chair the bones in my feet snap into place, followed by the bones in my ankles and knees. I stretch so hard it almost hurts while walking over to the window. The lamp glares off of the window so I cannot see outside. I walk to the door and open it, the cool air and humidity; the smell of worms drowning hits me in the face like it was mad at me. “Mister” I say aloud with a bit of a chuckle, the lightning flashing followed by a distant roar of thunder. I step out onto my stoop, just under the roof of my porch closing the door behind me. I gaze out into the darkness; I can see the lights on my neighbors’ houses. Lightning flashes bright enough it is daylight for a second or two. Then the thunder came, quiet at first but it grew into a bellowing giant shaking the concrete stoop I was standing on, shaking its way up through my bare feet into my bones chilling my soul. Sitting down on the stoop, letting my legs out into the rain I say to myself “What is it I need to do? Where should I go”, lightning flashes followed by an impressive boom. I dig into my pocket and pull out a quarter, saying to myself “Heads I stay where I am I finish my summer job and go on with engineering, tails I change my major and take over the company.” I flip the coin into the air, the lightning flashes making the coin glint on its way up, the thunder booms once again and the coin lands in my hand, I look at the coin, its heads. “I guess that is that”, I say, “I guess I could go best two out of three… Nah, why bother tempting fate. I guess this is what I’ve always wanted I just wanted something, or someone else to tell me that I wanted to do what I wanted to do.” My pants are soaked, and my feet are starting to get cold. I get up saying “Mister, You can call me Mister Albasa, I guess.” I push my door open, it groans stepping into the house my soaked pant legs squish beneath my feet. Pushing the door shut the hinges pop and I lock the door. Lightning flashes again, the thunder becoming more distant. I hang my wet pants in the shower and dry my feet. I slide into bed I hear thunder far away but don’t see any lightning. Closing my eyes I say mutter “Only twenty five days and three months to go.” The thunder bellows one last time and I drift off to sleep.

GameReaper88 · 10-30-2007, 09:18 PM

As a side note, I apologise for some of the course language, thankfully this forum censored it.
Second I promise the mechanics of this story was much better before I tried to copy and paste it in here.
And lastly, just let me know what you think of it.

**Robby** · 11-05-2007, 12:19 PM

Seems to be more to this one! We going to see more of it ????

GameReaper88 · 11-05-2007, 07:03 PM

Quote: Originally Posted by Robby

Seems to be more to this one! We going to see more of it ????

Actually no, It is a short story and not all short stories give closure.
I like how it ends, I have to turn the paper in tomorrow and I am still wondering if the ending is too cliched. Actually I am fairly sure it is too cliche but the ending isnt what is important. For a well made short story the charecters must have interesting history, conflict and deep conflict. In the absense of interesting history at least they must be interesting people somebody you would like to meet.

The class is only 1 day a week and I get 3 credits for doing this. lol.

**WoodenGypsy** · 11-12-2007, 12:56 AM

I like it very much. I would love to see more short stories if you got them pleeeeaaase, giggles

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