told me you weren’t there last night, so I wasn’t sure you were coming…” I stood there holding my skate, not sure what to say. “Well, come in.” She said. I walked into the living room. It hadn’t changed much, the same cream colored carpet and faded orange drapes, the same white couch and easy chair, both pointed toward the TV. The only new thing in the room was a VCR. The coffee table had a vase with some glass flowers in it and two issues of Better Homes and Gardens and a Greenpeace newsletter. The living room was connected to a small dining area next to the kitchen. The two bedrooms were on the other end of the living room, separated by the hallway and bathroom.
“Why don’t you put your things down in your room and come back so we can have a talk.”
“Okay.” I said. I walked down the hall to my old room. It was small, with wood paneling on one of the walls, and there was a mattress and box spring sitting on the floor underneath a rectangular window that looked out on the back yard. The mattress took up about a third of the space in the room. Everything I’d left was gone. All the pictures I’d put up on the walls, my boombox, my stacks of magazines in the closet, my Darth Vader head from when I was little, everything. I didn’t expect her to keep all that stuff, but it was still a shock to walk into such an empty room. I tossed my backpack and my skate on the bed and went back to the living room. She was sitting in the easy chair, so I sat on the couch. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked.
“We have to discuss this living arrangement Nick. I spoke with Gram again today and she told me you stole twenty dollars from her and destroyed an expensive statue at her shop last night.” She paused for a moment. “Well, I don’t care. I just want you to understand that you can’t get away with that crap here. If you steal from me or destroy any of my things, I’ll prosecute you to the fullest extent of the law. You’re almost eighteen now Nick, so you won’t be going to some Juvenile hall, it’d be regular prison. I’m not going to stand for any bullshit. Understood?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’ve taken enough from you over the years. When I told you to leave this house I resigned from being your mother. Now just because I’ve decided to let you stay here doesn’t mean I’m your mother again. I’m letting you stay here because I know that Gram can be horribly unfair, and she probably had no reason to throw you out, although you gave her good reason after the fact by smashing up one of her statues. Do you understand all that?” She asked.
“Yeah, I think so. You’re not my mother anymore, and you’ll throw me in jail if I mess with your stuff. That’s okay with me.” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral.
“Right. I don’t care what you do or how late you stay out, or if you’re in school or not, or any of that stuff. As far as I’m concerned you’re just a person that lives in my house. I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me. You live by the rules of this house and pay your rent and we won’t have a problem.” She said.
“How much is my rent?”
“Your rent is three hundred dollars a month. That includes food and utilities. It’s below market price, I did research. Now today is the twenty ninth, so I won’t make you pay any rent for this month, but next month’s rent is due the fifth. If you’re late, it’s an extra thirty dollars, that’s how it works with most landlords.” She said.
“Wait a minute. I have to pay you three hundred a month, and live by your rules? I could rent my own apartment for that much and live by my own rules.” I said
“You’re welcome to do that. It won’t hurt my feelings if you do, believe me. But remember, you’d be paying for your own food, not to mention your electric and gas bills. You know you have to come up with two months rent just to move into an apartment, and right now you’re not legally old enough to sign a lease. I’m giving you a good deal, and I suggest you take it.” She said.
“So what exactly are the house rules?” I asked.
“I only want to tell you this once, so pay attention. Don’t mess with any of my things. Period. No exceptions. I expect you to be quiet and civil in this house. No loud music, yelling, or carrying on. In fact, no company in this house, I don’t want any of those street urchins in here. If you use a dish, you rinse the dish and put it in the dish washer. If you make a mess, you clean it up. Once a month you’re going to mow the lawn. Oh, and no smoking. I gave it up, and I don’t want my house to go back to smelling like an ashtray. Other than that, you can do what you want.”
“So basically, I can eat and sleep here. That’s it.”
“That sounds about right.” She said. “You could also read if you want. That would be okay.”
“Alright, I don’t have a choice anyway. But you should remember that if I’m paying three hundred dollars a month, that means you’re not allowed to comment on my life, my looks, my behavior, or my friends, right?”
“Right.” She said. “I resigned from being your mother, remember?”
“Yeah, which brings up another question. If you’re no longer my mom, what should I call you?”
“Kate.”
6
Money. I could do what I wanted as long as I came up with three hundred dollars a month. It wasn’t that much actually, I thought I might be able to scrape together three hundred a month without having to get a full time job. I could get a part time job working behind the counter at a book or record store. It wouldn’t take too much effort. Of course my salary would be supplemented with whatever I could steal out of the register. As long as I didn’t have some manager breathing down my neck or have to deal with too many customers, it wouldn’t be that bad.
The next morning I decided to go down to the mall to put in a few applications. I had to iron my Good Shirt, which I wore with my old jeans, so I was really only half well dressed. I left my skate at home, knowing I wasn’t likely to get a job if I had it with me, and I got on a bus headed south on Lake. It was about ten in the morning and most of the people riding looked like they were going to jobs they hated. The poor bastards had to work on Saturday. Maybe next week it would be me, sitting there with dead eyes, wishing I was still in bed.
I walked into the air conditioned mall and went to a directory that listed the shops. I scanned the list for places I might not despise working. All the food court places were out of the question because you had to wear a uniform. It was bad enough that I’d be whoring myself for four dollars an hour, I refused to do it in a bright yellow Hot Dog on a Stick hat. I narrowed it down to three places: Kaybee Toys, Walden Books, or The Science Store. The first two seemed like they wouldn’t require any concentration or effort from their employees, and the last one seemed like it might be fun. I pictured acetylene torches, Tesla coils, and sinister implements of experimentation.
The lady behind the counter at Walden Books told me they weren’t hiring but I could fill out an application anyway and leave it for the manager. I borrowed a pen and used the edge of the counter to fill it out. It asked for a list of past jobs, so I put down Gram’s shop and the name of a made-up landscaping business. I changed my birthday from 1972 to 1971 so I’d look eighteen. I wondered if they would want some sort of verification if I got the job. Good penmanship was never my strong suit, and when I finished filling out the form it looked like a small child had done it. I knew I had no chance of getting a job there. I handed the form to the lady behind the counter anyway and left.
Kaybee Toys was more promising. It looked like there had been a fight in the store and no one had bothered to pick up afterward. There were dirty stuffed animals on the floor and a scooter laying on it’s side in one of the aisles. There was no one behind the counter and I had to search the store to find an employee. He was in the back absentmindedly rearranging model airplane boxes. “Excuse me,” I said, “I was wondering who I could talk to about getting a job here?”
“Huh?” the guy said, looking at me as if I’d asked him to do math quick.
“A job,” I said, “I was wondering who I talk to about joining the Kaybee Toys sales team?”
“Oh. The ma
nager isn’t here right now. Mike, that’s who you want to talk to, he comes in around two and works until eight.” He said.
“Thanks, I’ll come back later.” It seemed like a place I could work. The guy had looked surprised, like he didn’t know why anyone would be standing in his store, and he’d said the manager would come in around two. That meant if he was fifteen or twenty minutes late, no one would care. I pictured myself wearing a little name tag, sitting behind the counter doing nothing for hours. Maybe ringing up a slinky or two, but certainly nothing strenuous. As I walked down the escalator and headed toward the Science Store I tried to remember how much a tube of model airplane glue went for on the street. Ever since they started requiring an adult to be present when purchasing model airplane glue it had acquired a black market value.
The Science Store didn’t look like a place I would want to work. It was clean and orderly. There seemed to be a vast inventory of products, all in their precise place. They had kid’s picture books and videos about nature, stuffed animals and hand puppets, chemistry sets, junior electrician kits, and life sized skeletons. There were beakers, test-tubes, Bunsen-burners, soldering irons, petri dishes, protective eyewear and plastic gloves, charts of the lunar cycles,