Working (It) Out

Already late, he searched frantically for his keys. Galloping through the apartment, over piles of clothes, some clean, some left there a couple of days old. —April freshness mingling with the smell of three teenagers and one young toddler. On most days, he casually made his way through the chaos, but today, of all days, this day, he couldn’t be late. Leaping over piles, sliding by the heel of his sock, the other leg coming into motion, as the roughness of his big toe sticking out of an overworn sock gave him traction. Entering back through the living room, Charlie strategically placed in front of the television, mesmerized by some larger-than-life multicolored mystical creature.
On the other side, sitting on the windowsill, staring out the window, sat Geraldine in her brightly colored sweatshirt and teal headphones, oblivious to what was happening around her. “Ger! Gerry, have you seen my keys?” he asked his little sister. As always, she seemed to not notice, so he nudged her on the shoulder, breaking her trance that was either musically motivated or motivated by the boy next door. He asked again, only to receive a response of “not my problem.” As blood rush to his face, he couldn’t help but to notice that it didn’t matter how many times she said the same line; he couldn’t let it settled in. He couldn’t grasp it, couldn’t accept that his sister wasn’t that same little girl who followed him everywhere, wanted to help, and wanted so much to be like him.

Running through the kitchen towards the backroom, he figured he’d left his keys in his flannel jacket.

The hook on the backdoor didn’t have his jacket, and he let out a long sigh in disbelief, realizing that he would be even more late than he’d expected. He’d have to ride his bike to the interview; sweaty and out of breath, he’d show up and lose this opportunity. But that is when he saw it, a clear puff of smoke rising by the back window, and then another. Under normal circumstances, this cloud would be an omen, but this cloud represented hope for today. As he got closer to the window, he heard laughter and murmuring. Fumbling with the broken handle of the window, he pried it open, but he was too late; he could see his flannel jacket at the back of the yard, about to disappear out of sight. “Gerald Stop!” he yelled. But this didn’t help because his younger brother took off running, probably scared of being caught smoking Virginia Slims. How stupid of him to think that yelling would bring Gerald back. So, in disbelief, he watched his jacket disappear down the alley in a cloud of smoke and teenage laughter.

Wiping his forehead with his sleeve, he asked to see Mr. Shingle. “Awe, he’s been expecting you, young man.” With movements so automatic, she pressed the intercom. She announced, “your 9 A.M. is here”. And just as mechanical, a stern voice echoed, “Send him in.”
Out of breath, heart beating rapidly, he walked through the doors of a place that little did he know would change the trajectory of his life. Ray looked at him as if he were eyeing a deer on a hunting trip, trying to determine whether or not this deer was going to take off running or stand its ground. He noticed that there was a streak of dirt on Stephan’s arm sleeve and that sweat trickled down the sides of his face, ending at and dampening his sideburns. By the look of terror in Stephan’s eyes, he noted that this was a deer stuck in headlights and that they were going to have to do this interview.

For what seemed like an hour, Stephan walked away, feeling proud, somehow, in the chaos of the morning, he had secured his first real job. Not a city-sponsored summer camp job, but a real job. Although he loved his summer jobs, for him, this felt different; this felt earned. There was no help from the school counselor, the Mayor’s office of employment, or training; nope, this was something that he achieved all on his own.

Even if the interview only lasted twenty minutes.

As he walked out of the department store’s doors, he had almost forgotten the chaos of the morning until he had seen his bike, flat tire, and all.  Flattened while riding through vacant city lots on his way to the interview. 

It was going to be a long walk home with the bike in tow.