Nolan waited in the tiny basement room in darkness as the minutes ticked by. His supervisor was late. He'd been told this by an entrance guard, ushered into what seemed to be a broom closet and told to wait. Now he stood amongst the mops and buckets and tried not to touch anything.
His nerves were raw, yes, but an undercurrent of real pride was still tripping along beneath. He pictured his dah's face when he'd told him he'd been hired on. Overjoyed was the right word for it. Overjoyed and proud. Nolan had never felt better.
But now, with the strong smell of chemical sickening his stomach and with the minutes ticking by, he began to wonder. What if they've changed their minds? They got one look at my scrawny arms and holey boots and changed their minds. How would he face his dah?
The door burst open and a big-bellied man pushed in. Nolan jumped and then locked his knees and elbows in an imitation of the guards' saluted-stance. “Sir,” he said before he really knew who he was addressing.
“Don't sir me,” the voice grumbled. It was a broken concrete voice, full of age and annoyance. A switch flicked on and an overhead light buzzed to life. “What in heaven's heels are you doing in the dark?”
The man must be his supervisor, wearing an identical outfit to the one Nolan had been handed thirty minutes ago, a tan coverall with a name badge stenciled over his heart. Samuel it read. With thin arms and legs, Samuel rounded out in the middle, the perfect paunch of a well-feed Breeders' employee. The top of his head was bare and shining in the light, but a ring of gray-brown hair clung to the back. His most distinguishing figure was the tan eye patch slung over his right eye.
Samuel eyed Nolan up and down. “Not much of a boy, are ya?” he asked, pushing into the closet. Samuel grabbed a mop and bucket from the back corner and wheeled it forward. He stopped at the doorway and turned to Nolan who was standing stock-still with his jaw dropped. “If you're waiting for an invitation to this ball, princess, you're gonna miss the dance.”
Nolan threw him a questioning look. Samuel sighed painfully. “Jesus, just get moving!” Then he bumped the bucket over the door jamb and out of view.