Bucked

“Hey it’s no problem,” she assures me. “We all have to start somewhere.” She looks around. “Where’s Lacey with those shoes? We have to start soon. Time to get on the floor!”

As if on cue, Lacey walks in, holding higher heels than I have ever seen in my life. “Here, try these on!” She says passing them to me. “We’ve got to get a move on, earn some money.”

I wedge the heels onto my feet. They’re too small, but I manage to cram them on my feet. The pain starts shooting through the soles about three seconds after I stand up.

I toddle through the door, following the girls. I feel like I’m in a costume, but I guess they would consider this the uniform. When in Rome I guess.

Lacy points. “There’s your first table,” she smiles, pointing at a young couple who are totally engrossed in one another.

“Here goes nothing!” I say. As I sway over, I’m starting to wonder why I accepted this job in the first place.

Eight

Kanen

My truck’s running a little rough. I hope it can make it to the center. I know those kids are waiting for me, like they do every weekday, even if they know I won’t be in. Or so the staff tells me. I should probably spend some money on a new vehicle, but I don’t know if I can be bothered. I’ve always had an old beater truck. It seems like me. More so than a top-of-the-line Mercedes or something. I have one, just for business, but I don’t like to drive it around. I only go for ostentatiousness when it can help my causes.

But as it coughs again, I realize what I also don’t like is breaking down in the hot Texas summer sun. Yeah, have to bite the bullet and buy something different if I can’t fix it up myself.

I imagine what it would be like to drive Canada around in this truck. Would she judge me for an old beaten-down Chevy? Or would she more likely look with disdain at a fancy new vehicle?

Something tells me that she might just be happy to be holding my hand as we drove.

The truck coughs again. Shit. That doesn’t sound good.

But honestly, the last thing that I’m going to worry about is this old jalopy. She’s seen me through enough crazy times that I wouldn’t begrudge her if she leaves me on the side of the road once.

But as luck would have it, the transmission holds and I’m able to pull into the Native American youth center right on time. The kids run out as soon as I park. I’m turning off the truck and there’s at least three of them ready to hug me as I climb out the driver door.

“Hey guys,” I greet them happily. Seeing their smiling faces always makes something inside me melt—something I didn’t know was frozen, but when it loosens up, it gives me real peace. I ruffle Joe’s hair, and give Duke a high five.

“Kanen, how’s it going?” pipes up a shy high-pitched voice. I know it’s Damien. He’s one of my favorites. He was being raised by his grandparents, until it got too be too much for them. Both his parents were alcoholics, and not exactly meant for this world. But Damien is. And I try to tell him that every time I see him, one way or another.

I pick him up and hoist him on my shoulders. “Hey buddy! It’s going great. How are you doing?” He wraps his hands around my forehead, giggling. “Where we off to?” I ask.

“That’s up to you. You’re the bull and this time I’m the rider!” he shouts. I have to laugh.

“That’s a new role for me!” I tell him. “And quite a challenge!” I say, but wasting no time I start running around, snorting and stamping my feet in my best imitation of a toro. His laugh is like music—the best music I’ve ever heard.

The other kids are chasing us, and when they catch up, I come to a stop. “Now that was an award-winning ride,” I say, letting him down off my back. “You might have broken a record with that one!”

“Me next, me next!” they’re all yelling, but it’s time we go inside.

“Next time!” I say, putting them off. “Now what we need to be doing is some reading!”

“Aww,” the kids say, disappointed not to get some special attention running around, but it’s important to get them hooked on reading early. That’s something I’ve learned the hard way.

“Don’t worry, there’s plenty of time for everything. And you know how much I love reading.”

I really don’t, but it’s only because it was always hard for me. And that’s what I’m trying to change for them. The more times I can get them to read to me, the better they’ll be for it. And that can set them up much better in life than I ever was. They might not have to risk their lives riding bulls, as fun as it might be, to respect themselves.

Nine

Chastity

It’s about two hours into my training shift, and I’m just about ready to leave. My feet are absolutely killing me, my brain is full to bursting, and I’ve screwed up more times than I want to count. The worst was when I poured a large Coke down the back of an older woman who was obviously there to celebrate a birthday. She was as charming as could be as I mopped off the back of her pretty blouse and stuttered apologies, but it was still awful. And what’s almost worse are the twin looks that the other waitresses are giving me: contempt and pity.

Lacey and Chrissy are both trying to keep my spirits up, and make this day not a complete disaster, but I’m not sure how well it’s working. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this kind of job.