Eli poked me in the arm, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You didn’t eat the jellybeans.”
I looked at the colorful beans
in the clear plastic bag. “I’m saving them for later,” I lied.
Truthfully, I just didn’t want to look like an idiot when I ate them for the first time. What if it was obvious that I’d never had a jellybean? Eli could already tell there was something off about me; I didn’t want to make him think I was weird. I didn’t want him to stop talking to me. That day had been the best day of my life.
Eli nodded, believing my lie. “Will I see you again, Grace?”
I rolled the colorful beans in my hand and then looked up at Eli’s questioning face. I knew Daddy was going to beat me. I knew I shouldn’t have left. I knew I shouldn’t have talked with Eli, and I knew the jellybeans in my hands were contraband. But…I wanted to see him again so badly. It was all I wanted in the world.
“Yes.”
We had until the end of the month to fork over two hundred dollars each. Apparently that was a really good deal there, but to me it seemed like an impossible task. Two hundred dollars? You may as well have asked me to make a million dollars.
Bottom line: Vera and I needed jobs.
I’d never had a job before. Daddy had said the only place a woman worked was in the kitchen and in the bedroom. That meant that growing up, I never got much work experience. Eli taught me about resumes, so I knew enough to know that I didn’t have one. School experience? I didn’t think my homeschooling was going to look very good.
Still, I had to do something.
I remembered back in town the corner store had put up a “Help Wanted” sign in the window when their bagger boy had stopped showing up. That was right around the time Zero came to town. Come to think of it, there were a lot of “Help Wanted” signs in the windows when Zero came to town.
As I walked the streets of Santa Barbara, I didn’t see any “Help Wanted” signs. All the stores were an odd marriage of uninviting and begging me to enter, like they wanted my business but were too cool to as for it.
I turned down another street, wondering what my plan was. In the near distance I could see a shopping center. Though the architecture was old-timey, it looked like it had a few new stores and restaurants. It appeared my plan had materialized before me.
I entered a store and the air conditioning blasted me almost as hard as the loud poppy music. All the workers were either busy with customers or folding things. I didn’t want to bother them, but I knew I needed to get an application; it was the reason I’d crossed the street, entered the shopping center, and chosen the store.
The line for the register was pretty long, at least ten people, but I figured if I waited in it I could at least talk to the cashier. So I waited. I picked a place and stood in line, even though I didn’t have anything to buy. The longer I waited the sillier I felt, until I finally reached the cashier. She opened her mouth to ask for my items, but when she saw I didn’t have anything, she waited for me to explain.
“Do you have an application?” I asked.
“A what?” The cashier tilted her head to the side, smiling.
“For a job here,” I explained, feeling dumber by the moment. “Do you have an application?”
A look of understanding spread across her face and she smiled. “Oh, okay. No, sorry. You can apply online though. That’s how I got the job.” I thanked her meekly and left, feeling like everyone was looking at me as I slunk out of the store. I simply didn’t understand how things worked.
I sat on a bench shaded by palm trees. A cool breeze blew my hair and it tickled my face. I sighed, sinking into the stone against my back. It was hard to feel bad for very long there.
Across the street, nestled between two rundown looking shops was a small building with a big retro sign that said “Java”. Feeling like an outsider, I was about ready to give up after that one experience, but hey, I’d met Vera at a coffee shop; maybe the one across the street would hold similar luck.
The manager eyed me shrewdly. She had short, spiky, platinum blonde hair and one side was shaved completely. Her ears had big holes I could see through. I thought they were called gauges, but I couldn’t remember for certain. It wasn’t like Daddy covered those in homeschooling and we hadn’t gotten many girls looking like her back in my town.
“Do you have any experience?” she asked.
“No ma’am,” I answered truthfully.
She tapped the small table we were sitting at. “Why do you want to work here?”
I need a job or I’ll be homeless again, I thought. If I kept looking, I might land a job at a place like the one I’d just left: a nice, big retail giant with loud music and cold air.
I shrugged, replying honestly. “I need a job, but I don’t want it to just be any job; does that make sense?”
Big earrings and blonde hair eyed me again before a small smile escaped her lips. “When can you start?”
“How did it go?”