“No, higher.”
“Here?” he asked as he squeezed her thighs.
“Higher,” she giggled.
Ryan raised his eyebrows in question, but Jac gave him the go ahead grin and he lovingly obliged his fiancee's need for his attention.
“What are you two doing?”
They both froze and glanced toward the door. There stood her parents with horrified looks on their faces. Ryan quickly jumped away from Jacqueline as she tried to sit up. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. It’s not as if I’ve been screwing my fiance for the past year.”
“Jacqueline! Young lady, after what you’ve been through, I’d hardly think you’d want anyone touching you!” her mother exclaimed.
“You maybe, but I love him, mom. No matter what happens to me, he’s always been there for me. So he can touch me whenever and wherever he wants!”
Her mother gasped and looked like she wanted to say more, but she moved on. “Your father and I came to see how you’re doing, but it seems we had no reason to worry.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the room. Her father nodded with a smile and followed his wife.
“Well, that was all kinds of embarrassing,” Ryan said.
Jacqueline looked over at him and saw his flushed face. “Why don’t you lock the door this time?” she said with a big grin.
His eyes went wide. “Are you sure about this, Jac? After what you’ve been through?”
“I feel disgustingly filthy and only you can cleanse me. So, yeah, I’m sure.” she said as she pulled the thin sheet off of her and pulled up the hospital gown. “Or do you see me as too dirty to play with now?”
Ryan rushed to lock the door and walked back toward Jacqueline.
“Jac, it’s been awhile since we last had sex, and as much as I want it, I don’t think now is such a great time.” His eyes traveled across Jacqueline’s body and took in her injuries. She was covered in bruises, sporting a split in her bottom lip, and her lady bits were swollen.
Sensing his hesitation, Jac pleaded with him. “Please, Ryan. I need you. I need to know you still love me. That despite everything that’s happened, that you will still touch me.”
He looked at the tears in her eyes and despair on her face, and he knew that he could not deny her any longer. He would show her just how much he truly loved her.
The End Comes
Es jolted awake to the loud, annoying beeping of her alarm clock. She hadn’t slept much due to anxiety about her upcoming interview. She finally had a chance to be a photographer for the local newspaper. Most people couldn’t understand her enthusiasm, but photography beat making pizzas, flipping burgers or waiting tables for a living. Those jobs just weren’t her cup of tea. Minimum wage in this country barely got anyone by.
If she had a nickel for every time she heard someone say her generation was lazy and expected handouts, she’d have a two story house in the country on a horse ranch with a gorgeous sapphire blue 2013 Ford Mustang.
As she showered, she thought about all the sacrifices she had to make over her last few years. Lack of sleep, ramen noodle grocery budget, no satellite TV or internet. Her credit sucked due to her income pressures - which bill to pay first: electric bill or college loan?
Of course, she could keep her credit in good standing by paying both and people had said as much. But if she paid both, she’d have to sacrifice elsewhere. Sure, she could skip a few meals. She needed to lose the weight anyway. She could skip putting gas in the car and just walk the twenty-two miles to work. She could even get a $5 a month prepaid plan for her cell. Oh, wait. They don’t exist.
Put simply: service jobs sucked. It was awful that many companies and customers didn’t seem to care about anyone but themselves, making money, getting free stuff, and treating those that ‘service’ them as lowly beings. However, if she really thought about it, that was every job out there. We all work a job that provides a service or a product for the customer. Therefore, no matter what job you have, we are all slaves to society. Because of that, we should all treat each other better, regardless of what kind of day we are having.
As Es brushed through her wet, long light brown hair, she remembered the time she once worked without air conditioning for three months in summer. Her friends had joked it was like hearing a “back in my day . . .” type of stories, but she hadn’t been amused. It happened. Customers complained and business dropped.
She bet a year’s pay if she had been working at the main office for the same company, they’d have fixed it within a couple of days, if not hours. Everyone had been miserable and the complaints were just plain mean.
After awhile, the employees just rolled their eyes and ignored the complaints. The customers at least had a choice to stay or to leave. As an employee, the only choice they had was between not getting paid or working in the heat.
Es herself had been extra miserable, cutting pizzas next to a broken oven as loud as a roller coaster that breathed hot air like a dragon. Oh well. They say it takes all kinds of people to run this Earth and it takes all kinds of experiences to develop a person.
Getting a better job isn’t easy, she thought straightening her hair and preparing it for a ponytail. Most of the open job market is for retail, gas stations, restaurants, and hotels. Not to mention how many positions require a certain degree or so many years of experience in a certain area.
Degrees weren’t everything, however, as Es once worked in a barbecue restaurant with a wonderful red-haired woman with a master’s degree in forensic science. Yet there she was, waiting tables because as much as her college promised her a job after graduation, she was stuck in a service job to make ends meet. The woman’s tight budget had caused problems at home so she moved on to making beautiful cupcakes and cakes at a gourmet bakery downtown.
As Es applied her makeup, she thought about her own wasted time in college. She wanted to be a photographer, that had always been her dream, but her parents hadn’t wanted their daughter to be broke and homeless. They suggested other careers.
She had pursued college by first taking all of the boring required classes and also had pursued an interest in archaeology. Why they made her take a P.E. class in college she would never understand. In her first semester, Es lost an aunt to her seven year battle with breast cancer. After two years of college, she had changed her major and eventually changed schools. After four years of college experience with no degree and no idea what to do with her life, she moved back home to face disappointed parents as a jobless, penniless, college drop out. Just another statistic.
While she slipped into the outfit she had set out the night before, she thought about how she had hopped from job to job, never really fitting in or feeling like she was needed. Each job was a boring routine that barely paid the bills and hardly worked her enough. Now she was working two part time jobs to make ends meet. Just to be able to save a little was the toughest thing she’d ever done. The way her parents talked down to her, it was almost as if they thought she could become some great success overnight.
“When I was your age, I was working a fifty-six hour job, a part time job Monday through Thursday, raising three kids, cooking, cleaning, running errands, and selling Tupperware on the side. I paid for everything, the rent, the bills, the food, the car. All on less money than you make now. I don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to find a good job or to save your money, even if things are more expensive now,” she had heard her mom say on more than one occasion.
Thanks for the good talk mom. If she could make more than two grand a month and afford to pay bills, rent a city apartment and still feed herself, that would be enough for her, but not for her parents. They somehow thought she could afford to pay $800 a month in rent, plus food and bills and still save at least a third of what she made as emergency money. When she did the math, she was lucky if she could save a hundred.
She let her thoughts run for a moment. We all know how saving money goes. Just when you think you have enough to enjoy a nice day out or
go shopping for the really good food or take a vacation, a pipe bursts and floods the house or the car breaks down or the dog ate something and now needs to see the vet. Something always comes up that uses all the money saved. Oh well, that’s life, right? Life isn’t fair to anyone. That’s one of the first lessons anyone learns. If I do get this photography job, I will never go back to food service. Ever. I only worked eight years in it and I feel like it was a lifetime. People can be mean, rude and conceited. Most are nice, but its the awful people that stick with you.
Blending her breakfast smoothie, she shook her head as she remembered a few of the worst customers she had ever met. There was once a guy who threw three ranch dip cups at her because they weren’t free and she had insisted he pay for them or else have the cops called on him for stealing.
One manager had said she got rid of the peppermint basket because someone threw it at her and another manager super glued the toothpick dispenser to the counter to prevent it from being thrown again. There were also the people who yelled and cussed her out at the register or over the phone while expecting her to keep her mouth shut and make them happy. And don’t smile. That just makes things worse.
Then there were the families that came in and let their children run around, screaming and yelling while they used the booths like trampolines. It was infuriating how the parents never said a word unless someone asked them to reign in their hyper little brats and they responded, “No one will tell me how to raise my kids!”
If the child got hurt using the restaurant as a playground, the parent would file a lawsuit for an unsafe environment in a heartbeat. Some already sued over not having changing tables in the bathrooms, which they had gotten rid of due to lawsuits from neglectful parents who would sit their child down on the changing station, walk away, and their baby would roll off and hit the floor.
It felt completely insane to Es.
There was even a time Es saw a server get spat on by a man while reporting him for an assault from not minutes before. It was sad really, that people couldn’t behave properly because they believed the world and everyone in it owed them something for simply existing.
That was why Es was so anxious about the interview. It has to go right. She needed this job.
She had spent some time finding out the appropriate attire for an employee of the newspaper and spent most of yesterday buying a few new pairs of jeans, blouses and a skirt just for the interview. She checked herself in the mirror one last time. Crisp short-sleeved, white blouse tucked into a sleek, knee-length black skirt leading to a pair of dark hosiery and short black heels. Long light brown hair neatly straightened and put up into a ponytail.
She was grateful for her flawless creamy white skin and her blue eyes were shining with hope. She had been extra careful since the call to make sure her appearance would be clear of any blemishes that might steal Mr. Tom Thornton’s attention.
After all, she was not someone who turned heads or won anyone over with the assets she possessed. If she could, she wouldn’t be a twenty eight year old virgin. She was a woman with an average looking face and an overweight figure with slightly-above-average intelligence. With everything looking as good as she thought it could, she left for the interview she hoped would change her life.
Ӝ
“You’re late.”
“I’m so sorry, um . . .” Es glanced at the name plaque on the secretary’s desk. “Debbie. I am late and with no excuse. Please, if he still has a moment, I would really like to speak with him. I need this job, Debbie. I don’t want to be flipping burgers and selling pizzas all my life. Please,” Es pleaded.
Debbie just stared her down before informing her boss his interview had arrived. “He’ll see you, but I warn you, keep it short. Make your answers clear and straight forward. Don’t drone on and beat around the bush, you understand?”
“Yes. Thanks so much, Debbie! Really!”
“Just go through that door and wait to be recognized,” Debbie said as she resumed her work.
Es glanced at the glass walled office closed off by dozens of blinds from the inside. She walked up to the heavy wooden door and reached for the knob. This is it. This is my big moment. Time to shine.
As she stepped through the door, a balding man with a slightly off-colored toupe sat behind a large metal desk, typing away at his computer.
Es softly closed the door and stood there for a moment, unsure if she should sit or if she would be shooed out for being late. Five minutes go by as Es studies the man’s office. While the walls are fairly bare, the stacks of papers made his desk nearly invisible and his two filing cabinets are overflowing as well. In front of his desk sat two wooden chairs with mismatching homemade cushions. On the wall behind him were pictures of the town and a recognition letter from his predecessor.
The man cleared his throat and Es met his gaze, feeling the heat in her cheeks. He waved his at a chair as he said, “I’ll be with you in a moment. You’re late and I’m busy. You’ll have to wait.”
Ӝ
“So, Ms. Waters, what aspects of this job appeal to you?”
“Well, Mr. Thornton, all of it, really. I’ve always wanted to be a photographer. I dabbled in it as a kid and took classes in college. I believe I can handle the workload and will photograph anything you need. Fires, babies, flowers, crime scenes, tires, . . . Anything you ask,” Es replied.
“Tires? Why would I need you to take a picture of tires, Ms. Waters?” Tom asked.
“Ah, well, such as burning tires in a landfill or a company ad.” She swallowed, wishing for a cup of water.
“Mm-hm. And do you think you are a good fit for our paper?”
“Yes, sir. I live nearby, so I will never be late. Ah, except for today. I’m sorry about that.” Es grimaced and continued, “I have my own transportation, so I don’t have to rely on the city bus. I’m a hard and reliable worker, Mr. Thornton.”
“Are you willing to relocate or travel? Sometimes opportunities turn up in other countries you know. Big stuff like 9/11, the tsunami in Japan, the flooding in India, the earthquake in Haiti or the bombings in Madrid.”
“Of course, sir! I wouldn’t mind traveling for work so long as I get to photograph the world,” Es could feel herself growing excited about the possibility of travel. She never would have thought that would be a possibility in her life.
Tom sighed. “You young folks are always so full of optimism and hope. I wish I still had that.”
A knock sounded on the door and a man poked his head in. “Sir, sorry to interrupt, but you might want to see the news right now. Half of California just sank into the ocean.”
Mr. Thornton mumbled under his breath as he turned on his television and flipped to the news. Es sucked in a breath and leaned forward in her seat as live footage from the news helicopters showed a good portion of California sinking into the sea. “According to the reports, it happened just before eight o’clock this morning after a 14.6 earthquake caused the San Andreas fault line to widen enough to split California in two,” a reporter was saying off screen.
“Damn, this world is going to Hell. Earthquakes, tsunamis, bombings, public shootings. What next? The whole damn Earth turns against us like in those apocalypse movies?” Mr. Thornton shook his head, his toupee sliding slightly out of place. He turned to Es, his brown eyes meeting hers, and said “Do you see this? Are you honestly willing to move somewhere, hoping for a big story like this? Don’t you think you might end up one of the many casualties?”
“Everyone is nervous about moving to a new place, sir,” she replied. “Some are just willing to risk their lives for a paycheck. I . . . I do not wish to die like that. I hope I can live to be an old grandmother if possible. But I need this job, sir, if you are willing to give me the opportunity to show you what I can do.”
Mr. Thornton turned back to the screen, adjusting his glasses as they watched in silence. After a few minutes of watching the devastation happening across the country, a low rumble could be heard somewhere
not far off.
“Damn earthquake!” Mr. Thornton yelled as he flung the remote onto his desk as he stood. “How could we possibly feel the aftershocks way out here, on the other side of the country?!” He paced about his office, rubbing his hands up and down his face. “Well, Ms. Waters, I don’t see the harm in giving you a chance. You’ve got the job. It won’t be easy and the hours are all over the place. We call you, you jump. Got it?”
“Yes, sir!” Es answered with a big grin. I got the job! I can’t believe it! Things are finally looking up!
Another rumble, louder this time, shook the building with enough force to shake the items on his desk.
Mr. Thornton held out his hand. Es shook it and thanked him for his time. He told her to come back early the next morning to fill out all the necessary paperwork and be ready to hit the pavement. As she walked out of his office, another rumble thundered. The entire building trembled and Es grabbed the door jam for support as the lights flickered. They are getting stronger. But why? This isn’t exactly an area known for earthquakes.
Lotus: Dark Lotus Chronicles One Page 3
