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Young Adult / Gifted, Ch. 6
Months passed, and her mother stopped mentioning the therapist during her weekly phone calls. Charlotte arranged most of her visits to coincide with Joanna’s bridge nights and pilates classes for good measure. Her attention turned back to Addie, where both Addie and Charlotte knew it belonged.
One November morning, Charlotte awoke to a change. The image of the girl had not missed a single night since the summer, and the absence of the dreams was almost as jarring as the appearance of them had been. For the first time in months, she didn’t wake up trembling or gasping for breath. Her fingers did not clutch her sheets in fear, and she could not hear her panicked pulse in her ears.
It was still early when she slipped out of her bed, navigating around piles of clothes and books without waking her roommate. She slipped on some sweats and shoes scribbled a quick note on the dry erase board. If Megan woke and found her bed empty, she would go in to panic mode in about five seconds.
The pebbly path dictated her course as she approached the academic buildings. The last time she’d been up before the sun was that day with MaryAnn, and she was surprised that her first reaction to the memory wasn’t guilt. She sent out a quick thank-you to whatever deity was responsible for the change, unsure if the right one would even hear her. Charlotte was so distracted by them that she almost collided with a pair of ambitious joggers. She circled back around to the dorm; she had to be at Pet Palace in an hour.
So far, the only real occupation hazard was the unbelievable boredom, but Charlotte had grown accustomed to it. She’d even gotten used to Cole…sort of. At least the ink tattoos didn’t scare her anymore. Her boss was scary in his own soul-sucking kind of way. Charlotte still didn’t understand how someone who hated living creatures so much could be the manager of a pet store. He didn’t even pretend to hide the fact behind his small, rimless glasses or eyebrows that always pointed in an angry V-shape.
Charlotte hacked away at a box of cat toys, tagging and shelving the furry neon rodents. It took twice as long as it should have since Gibbons refused to get rid of the obsolete price gun even though it was as useful as an umbrella in a tornado. The click-pause-click-pause monotony and tried to force an alteration. Click-pause-pause-click. Click-pause-pause-click-click. She maintained the anti-pattern only briefly before it fell away to the other. It was only interrupted when the machine jammed and she uttered a mild curse under her breath. She popped open the casing and fiddled with a few parts.
She saw two options. Spend half an hour fixing the machine for the hundredth time, or drop it into one of the fish tanks and feign innocence. The splash would be so satisfying.
But before she could let it accidentally slip into one of the turquoise tanks, Mr. Gibbons approached her. He was tall and narrow and hovered over people, watching for the slightest mistake. Twice a day he passed through the store. His daily wardrobe was long-sleeved dress shirts, neutral ties, and dark trousers. In the five months she’d been working there, she’d never seem him stray from it.
“In my office, Charlotte.” Gibbons never broke his stride, and passed before she could speak. He assumed himself a pied piper. Charlotte sighed, hoping to glimpse a customer in need of her attention. There were none.
Gibbons’ office was decorated in various shades of gray and always smelled of cheap hamburgers and dog food. Charlotte tried to take a breath of clean air before she entered.
“Don’t lurk in the doorway, Charlotte. Sit down.” Gibbons wedged himself between the bare brick wall and the dark wood desk that was too large for the room. How had they gotten it in here? Did they piece it together inside the room? One oily finger pushed his glasses up his pointed nose. “I have noticed that your work habits are not up to our standards. You spend far too much time on simple tasks. He shuffled papers around the desk and stacked them in one corner, then the other. “As manager, I will not abide irresponsible employees.”
Charlotte knew the game. The weasel threatened to fire her at least once a month—twice if he was in a particularly obnoxious state. Charlotte clenched her teeth. She wanted to keep her eyes closed so she wouldn’t have to see the harsh light or his ugly face, but she was unwilling to back down. Charlotte thought how much better things would be if she never had to look at him again, and she wanted to knock the smug look off his face, but there was nothing but paperwork. It wasn’t the first time he’d made an unfounded accusation against an employee. Last week, in front of at least half the employees, he’d accused Randall of burning cigarette holes in the couch. Randall, who’s never smoked, just looked at him. Cole barely kept from laughing in Gibbon’s face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Charlotte said.
“Don’t try that. Your work is shoddy and you’ve been taking too many breaks.”
“I haven’t, and you can ask Randall.” Whatever respect she’d reserved for him was already gone.
“Why should I believe that another employee wouldn’t corroborate your story?” he barked in a gritty baritone that did nothing to hide his mistake. “In my experience, employees will try anything to get out of work when they are perfectly capable of doing their jobs.”
This is it, Charlotte thought. He’s finally going to fire me, and this will be the last day I have to touch a slimy fish or clean out another bird cage.
A flash of pain struck her between the temples. She flinched and looked down, trying to clear away the tears she knew were forming. She wouldn’t let Gibbons think he had enough power to intimidate her. If not for the immense pain distracting her, she would have told him exactly what she thought of him and his smelly office.
Gibbons put both palms flat on his wooden desk as if to assert his control. He raised one eyebrow and spoke again. “I am willing to give you another chance,” he said, “to prove to me that you take your job at Pet Palace seriously.”
Great, Charlotte thought. That’s just what I wanted.
“I am putting you on probation for two weeks. But if you miss any more work during that time, I will ask you to find employment elsewhere.”
Find employment elsewhere? Why don’t you just say you’ll fire me, you big sweaty freak. That would be just fine with me.
She smiled. Mr. Gibbons mistakenly understood that the smile meant she would try to be a model employee and earn the respect he was demanding. He returned his own version—the corners of his mouth didn’t turn down.
She stormed out of the room, as much as one can storm out of a closet, wanting to get as far away from him as possible. She walked through the store room, where the stock boys were playing poker atop bags of dog food, and threw open the back door.
She was instantly hit with a wave of smoke. Cole was sitting on the edge of the landing, taking one of several smoking breaks.
Charlotte yelled in frustration and sat on the cold concrete dock.
“Gibbons picked you today, didn’t he?” Cole asked, flicking her cigarette butt into a puddle.
Charlotte nodded, her fists still clenched. She was too angry to let any words escape.
“The guy’s a sleazebag with a dog’s haircut.” She lit a second. “I’d bet fifty bucks that he gets Gretchen to cut it after hours so he can save a lousy five bucks.” Gretchen was the store’s dog groomer. “When she went on vacation, his ear hair was out of control. He was growing steel wool in there.”
“Well, he still decides whether or not I get paid, so I couldn’t punch him,” Charlotte said.
Cole looked at her with skepticism. “I almost punched him once; he kept calling me Nicole. I think he did it just to make me lash out. But I don’t think you have the moxie to pull it off.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Charlotte knew she wouldn’t punch her boss no matter how much he deserved it.
Randall opened the door. He was in his standard uniform: ocean blue polo, khakis, scuffed sneakers. Randall was the assistant manager, but was much more tolerable than Gibbons. For starters, he was human. “Here you are. I heard Gibbons called you into the hellhole,” he said.
Charlotte laughed a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, he told me I was missing too much work and that I would have to ‘find employment elsewhere’ if I kept it up.”
“Gibbons is a jerk, Charlotte. There’s no way he’s going to fire you,” Randall said.
“What does it matter to you? It’s not like your job’s in danger,” Charlotte said.
“Once he gets started, he’ll get rid of three or four of us if he can. Either way, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you here. He’s go no reason to harass you; you’re one of the best employees we’ve had in a long time.” Randall paused. “Gibbons is a jerk, did I mention that?”
Charlotte laughed again, but not so sarcastically as before. “You did. And he is.” She sighed. “But I’ve actually done something he can yell at me about. Unauthorized break.”
Cole interrupted. “Do you know how many unauthorized breaks I take? Three this morning, plus my regular one. By the time my eight hour shift ends, I’ll have racked up at least an hour and a half of breaks. As Randall has so mildly put it, he’s a jerk. Not the words I’d use, but sufficient for now.” She jumped off the landing. “Speaking of breaks, I’m going to lunch. You girls have a nice afternoon.”
“Don’t worry about it, okay?” Randall advised.
“It’s just a job; I can find another one somewhere else.” She stood up. “At this point I don’t care if he tries to fire me. It’ll just mean less crap in my life. But thanks anyway.”
The price gun was exactly where she had left it; somehow she hoped she’d be granted a little compassion and made it disappear. She picked it up and tried to label some squeaky mouse toys.
Click. Pause. Click. Pause.
Click. Jam. Curse.
The fish tanks were so close. She could drop it behind the plastic medieval castle, grab the box of toys, and run before anyone would hear the sinking splash. She looked at the silvery fish swimming in waves. “Come on guys. I’ll give you the gun, and you never saw me. You can spend the day pricing all those rocks on the bottom of the tank. Or each other, or whatever.”
She heard voices a few feet away, and they distracted her from the decision. The faulty gun momentarily saved, she leaned around a corner shelf. The voice was Randall’s, although it was a much happier version of his voice. She attributed the tone to the person who was walking with him. Charlotte had never seen him before, but he captured her attention immediately.
His shaggy hair hung around his face at chin length and a few tendrils fell across his forehead. The strays did nothing to hide his eyes. They struck her as a color of blue she’d never seen and one that couldn’t possible exist. Realizing her jaw hung open at the sight of him, she snapped it shut. They were walking right toward her, and she couldn’t let him see her gaping at him.
He surpassed Randall by a few inches, but that wasn’t difficult for any boy who had passed puberty. The blue eyed boy kept a relaxed pace that let his steps fall in line with Randall’s shorter, faster ones. He laughed as if he weren’t in the middle of the most depressing store in the world. She noticed the muzak that played, a decent rock song turned into its most degrading form. After this moment, hearing the song would always make her smile.
There was a new feeling in her stomach, an odd twinge of something unexpected.
Charlotte grabbed a handful of toys from the box at her feet, and when she rose, the two of them were standing right in front of her. She tried to pretend she hadn’t noticed them coming. It was more difficult than she thought.
“You should have been there, T.H.,” the other one said, still addressing Randall. “You of all people would have appreciated the situation.”
“Next time, then,” Randall promised.
Charlotte was puzzled. “T.H.?”
Randall sighed. He hoped she would have let that one slide. “It stands for ‘Tall Hobbit’ and I’m not crazy about the name.”
“Oh.” She knew the tone and was satisfied to let that be the end of the discussion. But his friend didn’t catch his annoyance, or chose to ignore it.
“He’s the only one. Everyone loved it in college,” the stranger told her. She stared into his eyes and wanted to fall into them without ever worrying if she could come back.
“Everyone did not.” Randall told him. “My girlfriend, as I recall, found it pretty embarrassing.”
“Yeah, T.H., but just for her.”
Charlotte let a chuckle escape as she tucked her hair behind an ear. The other hand let the label gun dangle at her side. Addie was usually the one who checked her hair when boys approached. She wished he wasn’t seeing her like this, in her rumpled turquoise smock probably smelling of catnip. She wished he was seeing her in her plum V-neck sweather across a candlelit dinner table-
She was not the kind of person who was easily distracted by boys. Half of her best friends had always been guys, but she never considered that one of them would demand so much of her attention so fiercely. Addie could swear she was in love after five seconds. Addie was the one who dated like it was an Olympic sport. And one thing was for sure, Charlotte and her sister were nothing alike.
She snapped back to the store, with its flourescent lighting and linoleum floor. The boys were still talking, and she should try to pretend she hadn’t been fantasizing about this guy whose name she still didn’t know. “And I maintain that is one of the primary reasons we broke up.” Randall said. Was she ever going to find out his name? He didn’t look like a Jason or a Michael. She hoped it wasn’t something unfortunate like Skip. “Besides, if we’re going to be giving out nicknames, then let me be the first to address you as—“
“Whoa, T.H. Not in front of the lady, please.” he winked at her, and Charlotte thought her knees would melt. “Somebody’s got to keep him in line.”
“Yeah, and you’re really the person to do that.” Randall sighed. “Charlotte, this is my roommate, Seth. Seth, my coworker, Charlotte.”
Charlotte could only nod, as if agreeing that it was actually her name. Seth. That was a good name. She approved.
“Nice to meet you,” he said. “Sorry we interrupted your work.” He picked up one of the mice she’d tagged and squeezed it. “T.H., you’ve distracted her from the overpriced chew toys.”
Randall was oblivious. “That’s ridiculous. Charlotte could do job in her sleep.” It wasn’t true. Charlotte had frozen in place. She couldn’t explain it or break out of it. This wasn’t the first time she’d seen an attractive guy. It was the first time that the attraction paralyzed her. At the thought of him, she felt goose bumps rise in waves on her arms. I don’t even know the guy. Why is he getting me all girly?
“Charlotte? You’re taking care of adoptions today, right?” Randall asked with an apologetic tone. “Gibbons has your name on the schedule again.”
That was enough to break her out of her stupor. Of course Gibbons had put her on duty again. “He was supposed to start rotating everyone else in, but I guess he’d rather make me do it every week and torture me if I don’t get the rest of my work done, too.”
“I’m sorry about that. I volunteered to make the schedules, but he refused.”
“We’d all be better off if Gibbons got fired. I doubt that will happen any time soon.” A thought grazed her brain, a sense that the pain she’d felt in Gibbons’ office was coming again. And it did. She closed her eyes to brace for it, but it was stronger than the last time and made her go off-balance. She steadied herself against the nearest shelf. And then her vision blurred, and the lights went out. She blinked, thought she saw Seth in a blurry afterimage burned in her mind’s eye. The image faded, and the light returned to normal.
She shook her head as if that could clear it more quickly.
“You okay?” Randall asked.
“Fine. What was that? Power outage?” Charlotte asked.
They both looked at her, puzzled. Apparently they hadn’t seen the drop in the light.
“You know, when I told Randall he had to introduce us, he just laughed.” He was speaking to her. How much had she missed? “I don’t know why he thought that was funny.” He shrugged.
“Chalk it up to the extreme boredom one develops from working here,” Randall replied.
She glanced at her watch. “Francie should be here any minute. I’d better go.” She inched away from the guys, Randall with a puzzled look on his face, Seth with an intrigued look on his. “It was nice to meet you.”
He pulled one hand from his deep cargo pocket and stuck it out in a motionless wave. “You, too.”
The moment was just as awkward and unsatisfying as she’d always imagined. She didn’t know if he would ever be back, or if she could muster more than a few choppy sentences. She tried to shake the fluttering feeling in her stomach.
He had no right to make me feel like that. One minute I’m minding my own business, and the next thing I know, I want to kiss this stranger in the middle of the store! If Gibbons wants to have a reason to fire me, it can be for me jumping Seth in the cat toy aisle.
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ruthybird reviewed Version 1 -
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This is a very enjoyable story. Characters are well-drawn. Though there isn’t much of a plot at this point, the story held my attention. One suggestion: Since it takes place in a pet store, you might want to describe some of the animals there. That would make for interesting reading, I think. And if Gibbons hates animals, describe how he behaves with them and how it makes Charlotte feel.
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ethanchrist reviewed Version 1 -
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I thought that most of the dialogue was really realistic as was the way in which characters interacted with one another. However, I thought Gibbons’ dialogue seemed a little off. He seems like the hard-ass type so I’d make him sound angrier when he’s talking to Charlotte. Or, if you want to go for the nice guy approach, make him seem more caring when he’s talking to her (have him ask her how she’s been doing lately and if everything’s okay with her home life).
I also think you need to include a reason for Seth to be at the pet store. Right now I’m just sort of left wondering if he works for company that owns the store, or if he was just stopping by to see Randall, or if he was there to buy something for a pet, etc.
Overall, I thought it was well written and kept my attention the entire way through. Good job!
traininvain reviewed Version 1 -
Read 82% of the Item
I love this. Your writing is so smooth and effortless, really drawing the reader into the story so easily. Charlotte and the characters around her have so much personality. The sentence structure, too, is very strong. Your way of words, like “useless as an umbrella in a tornado,” are just fabulous. Oh, and I loved the stock boys playing poker on top of the dog food bags.
The only correction I can think of—in a line of dialogue like this: “Everyone did not.” Randall told him., it should be: “Everyone did not,” Randall told him. With a comma instead of a period.
chelly reviewed Version 1 -
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The last sentence kinda made me chuckle…Anyway, I didn’t read the chapters before this so I wasn’t sure how to rate you. I looked at punctuation where there were some places that could have used a comma but over all I liked the story. Kept me interested in what you were saying and looking forward to the next chapter.
trying_to_try reviewed Version 1 -
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I enjoyed this, it’s cute and quirky. I haven’t read any more of it but what I have read I enjoyed. There are a few small problems, like every here and there you’re missing words like “a” or “the” but generally the grammar is good. At first I was a bit confused with so many names and characters but figured them all out about half way.
This sentence doesn’t make and sense though: “The click-pause-click-pause monotony and tried to force an alteration”.
I think it’s great for the age group you’re going for, kepp writing it it seems as though it has potential to develop.
Xxx
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