probably have had to quit."
"I'm pretty sure it's final, Jason, but I'll see for sure." Buck took the slip with him.
Jason opened his notebook and sat back by the dials. The check included a bonus that was meant to cover the airline ticket home, but it would cover the next few days just as well.
He stared at the needles as they jiggled slightly when the behemoth adjusted to forming the interiors of complex rooms and corridors, hidden in carrier-sized forms.
He had been fired before. Actually, fired wasn't the right word for this, they simply didn't feel the need to renew his contract. Not that that didn't result in the same thing.
He wanted desperately to stay and had no idea how to break it to Gina. He hadn't banked up enough to coast on an island as expensive as Hawaii and would either have to find a new job and place to stay, within a week, or buy a ticket and leave. His pitiful account didn't offer him any more flexibility than that.
A raise would have been nice, and it was long overdue, but getting paid much more than he was for sitting. . . he would have fired him too.
He felt a tear welling up, but choked it back down.
He thought of Gina. This could end everything.
Was all of this, for nothing.
No.
No, it wasn't all for nothing. He had something with her. In person, she seemed distant and aloof most of the time. But she wasn't. She was slow and cautious, but she was inching closer.
Without a doubt, they would continue to chat online. But with as much as could be done online, there was just as much that online relationships couldn't do.
He didn't want to be fired, and he most assuredly didn't want to go back to a long-distance relationship.
He wanted desperately to keep the status quo.
He got off the boat at the docks, then started walking to the hotel. His account had little to show for all his labor, but his credit was good. And the company had given him seven days at the hotel to arrange for a ticket home.
He started asking around.
Finding a job was difficult, nearly impossible with a hotel room listed as his residence. But his seemingly fruitless interviews did leave him with the impression that he could, in fact, find something locally after all. That it wasn't totally bleak.
On his second day out, he lied and used Gina's address instead of the hotel.
On his last day on the mainland before needing to buy a ticket home, a cleaning company showed some interest. They cleaned rooms in beachfront rentals when the occupants left. Tubs, toilets, rugs, carpets and beds. Those were mostly seasonal positions, but this was the season and they needed extra hands.
He took it and would start his probation Tuesday. But, should he get on regular, they also cleaned parkinglots and had contracts with some local stores and offices.
Something between maid and janitor, it was about the same as what he made on the behemoth, minus overtime and other perks. But it still wouldn't be enough to live on his own. And, to work it, he would need a car. For now, Gina agreed to drive him around in her old Honda. Her family even let him stay with them, as crowded as it was, so long as he helped out with the rent.
[Chapter 10]
Gina picked him up at the gate of the fenced in, ritzy beach community. He sat in the passenger-side seat, smelling of pine and lemons, as they silently drove home. Awkward silence surrounded them as the windows rattled while she spun down the road. Her radio had never worked, but living in an always noisy and crowded home, she cherished the silence and never thought of fixing it.
He felt compelled to say something. His days were spent cleaning other peoples' homes, often with no one to talk to, much like his silence in the bowels of the behemoth. But he fought the urge and relaxed back into the faded bucket seat.
"You have time to stop by the bank?" he asked, remembering the check in his pocket.
She looked at her watch. "No, I'm almost late as it is. I'll have to drive straight to the bar, and
"I'm pretty sure it's final, Jason, but I'll see for sure." Buck took the slip with him.
Jason opened his notebook and sat back by the dials. The check included a bonus that was meant to cover the airline ticket home, but it would cover the next few days just as well.
He stared at the needles as they jiggled slightly when the behemoth adjusted to forming the interiors of complex rooms and corridors, hidden in carrier-sized forms.
He had been fired before. Actually, fired wasn't the right word for this, they simply didn't feel the need to renew his contract. Not that that didn't result in the same thing.
He wanted desperately to stay and had no idea how to break it to Gina. He hadn't banked up enough to coast on an island as expensive as Hawaii and would either have to find a new job and place to stay, within a week, or buy a ticket and leave. His pitiful account didn't offer him any more flexibility than that.
A raise would have been nice, and it was long overdue, but getting paid much more than he was for sitting. . . he would have fired him too.
He felt a tear welling up, but choked it back down.
He thought of Gina. This could end everything.
Was all of this, for nothing.
No.
No, it wasn't all for nothing. He had something with her. In person, she seemed distant and aloof most of the time. But she wasn't. She was slow and cautious, but she was inching closer.
Without a doubt, they would continue to chat online. But with as much as could be done online, there was just as much that online relationships couldn't do.
He didn't want to be fired, and he most assuredly didn't want to go back to a long-distance relationship.
He wanted desperately to keep the status quo.
He got off the boat at the docks, then started walking to the hotel. His account had little to show for all his labor, but his credit was good. And the company had given him seven days at the hotel to arrange for a ticket home.
He started asking around.
Finding a job was difficult, nearly impossible with a hotel room listed as his residence. But his seemingly fruitless interviews did leave him with the impression that he could, in fact, find something locally after all. That it wasn't totally bleak.
On his second day out, he lied and used Gina's address instead of the hotel.
On his last day on the mainland before needing to buy a ticket home, a cleaning company showed some interest. They cleaned rooms in beachfront rentals when the occupants left. Tubs, toilets, rugs, carpets and beds. Those were mostly seasonal positions, but this was the season and they needed extra hands.
He took it and would start his probation Tuesday. But, should he get on regular, they also cleaned parkinglots and had contracts with some local stores and offices.
Something between maid and janitor, it was about the same as what he made on the behemoth, minus overtime and other perks. But it still wouldn't be enough to live on his own. And, to work it, he would need a car. For now, Gina agreed to drive him around in her old Honda. Her family even let him stay with them, as crowded as it was, so long as he helped out with the rent.
[Chapter 10]
Gina picked him up at the gate of the fenced in, ritzy beach community. He sat in the passenger-side seat, smelling of pine and lemons, as they silently drove home. Awkward silence surrounded them as the windows rattled while she spun down the road. Her radio had never worked, but living in an always noisy and crowded home, she cherished the silence and never thought of fixing it.
He felt compelled to say something. His days were spent cleaning other peoples' homes, often with no one to talk to, much like his silence in the bowels of the behemoth. But he fought the urge and relaxed back into the faded bucket seat.
"You have time to stop by the bank?" he asked, remembering the check in his pocket.
She looked at her watch. "No, I'm almost late as it is. I'll have to drive straight to the bar, and
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