One Smart Cookie

by Kym Brunner

  “It’s a bulldog with rose ears,” Nick says matter-of-factly. “One of our most popular breeds right now.”

  My head spins so fast, you’d think it wasn’t connected. “Rose ears?” I repeat, remembering the wax blob and Busia’s declaration. Could Dola have sent me two guys?

  Nick nods, pointing to the back of the dog’s head. “That’s what they call it when the ears flop backward like this. Bulldogs and whippets have rose ears.”

  Before I can dwell on the seemingly incredible coincidence that both guys I met today have something to do with roses, Jason clears his throat. “Let’s move on.”

  “Can’t I work in this department? I love puppies and kittens.” Not to mention that the sales guys are pretty lovable here too.

  Jason gives me a stern look. “First of all, I haven’t hired you yet, and second, you have to work here a minimum of six months before being transferred to canines or felines. It’s our most successful division. Only experienced employees can work here.”

  I want to argue that six months is excessive, but I keep my mouth shut. “No problem. Hopefully you hire me, because I think I’ll eventually do great in this department.”

  “You’d definitely look great in this department.” Nick grins at me.

  Holy crap, Andre truly is a miracle worker! “Aw…thanks!”

  Jason puts a hand on my back, gently guiding me away. “You work on selling pets, Walczak, and leave the hiring to me.”

  I don’t want to miss an opportunity for one last exchange. Tossing what I hope is an enchanting look over my shoulder, I call out, “Bye, Nick! Nice meeting you.”

  “Hope to see you soon,” he replies, smiling. “In a Pet World shirt, that is.”

  If all of this flirtatiousness is courtesy of Dola, I wish I would’ve spoken up sooner about my boyfriend troubles. I sure could’ve used a date for homecoming last year.

  Jason takes me past a giant cage of noisy bright green and blue little birds. Half of them fly around the cage from one perch to another, and the other half stand quietly or peck at their food. The birds are really pretty. I could see myself working in this department.

  Jason introduces me to a petite, dark-haired woman named Marguerite, who is holding a beautiful gray bird with a yellow head. “I think I’ve finally gotten this latest brood hand-tamed enough to sell.” Marguerite strokes the bird’s head, and it bends its neck in pleasure.

  “How cute!” I reach out and pet its head too. The bird turns and nips my finger hard, drawing blood. “You ass…a matter of fact, that hurt, you silly bird!” I say, hoping to cover up that I almost swore on an interview. I apply direct pressure, pushing hard to blot out the pain.

  Marguerite resumes petting the bird’s head, and it closes its eyes. “You need to move slowly around birds. They’re easily startled.”

  I nod, despite the fact that my finger is now throbbing. “Yep. Got it. I’ll be more careful next time. I can totally do this.” I smile reassuringly at Jason and then at Marguerite.

  “Good to know, but we’re not hiring for this department either.”

  I find I’m relieved by this news. “Oh, okay. Well, nice meeting you, Marguerite.”

  Jason tells her, “I’ll make up a sign with a price for those birds as soon as I’m done showing Sophie around.” Jason heads toward the back of the store, and I follow. “Do you have any experience with handling small pets?”

  I can tell I need to ace this question, or he’s going to show me the door. “Why, yes, as a matter of fact, I do! My friend Teegan has a cute little guinea pig.” And while it’s true that Teegan has a guinea pig, there’s nothing cute about it. Not only does its cage stink, but it shits little brown rice nuggets on her bedspread when she takes it out to play.

  “Great! Well, here we are—Rodent Row.” Jason smiles. “This is the department we’re hiring for. What do you think?”

  What I think is that my skin might get up and crawl off my body. Rodents? Creepy, hairy, mega-over-producing rodents? I’m about to say “Screw that!” and walk out, but I need money badly. Worse, I can’t very well go home and tell my mom I couldn’t hack a new job. “I think it’s perfect for me.” I point at a squirmy cage full of acrobatic white mice. “Oh, look how sweet!” Then I quickly clasp my hands behind my back so I don’t hold them up to block my face in repulsion.

  Jason rubs his hands together. “Fabulous! In that case, I’ve decided to give you a try as our new apprentice for the rodent department. That is, if you’d like the job.”

  Although I’m nauseous from the smell, I hear myself say, “I’d love it. Thanks!” Tornado sirens blare inside my skull as my brain catches on to what I’ve just agreed to. Danger, danger! Run for your life!

  “Welcome to the Pet World family.” He shakes my hand, which is already clammy from the thought of selling rodents. Jason wipes his hand on his pants. “You’ll be training with the supervisor of this department, Darcy.” He takes a few steps, scanning the aisles. “Ah. There she is.” He yells, “Darcy!” and waves her over.

  A woman—girl?—walks toward us. It’s hard to tell her age because half her face is covered by side-sweeping black hair, but I’m going with early twenties. Her eyebrow, at least the one that’s visible, is loaded with studs and barbells, and a small silver fishhook pierces her bottom lip. She’s wearing a roomy red Pet World T-shirt over straight-leg black pants and black high-top Converse.

  Jason smiles. “Darcy, this is your new apprentice, Sophie. Sophie, meet Darcy.”

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Darcy asks, glaring at Jason. A white rat with pink eyes peeks out from behind her head, and I let out an involuntarily squeak of fright.

  Darcy shoots me a dirty look. “Settle down. It won’t hurt you.”

  “I, uh, bumped into something, that’s all.” I look behind me as if looking for the offending object, but see I’m a good three feet from anything solid. Darcy eyes Jason, or to be more accurate, she “eye” Jason and frowns. “What are you doing to me, Jason? Princess here won’t last a week, and you know it.”

  Strangely, I don’t get the same warm feeling when Darcy calls me princess as when Murphy does. I attempt a smile to try to win her over, but the way she looks at me hints that she has disgust for my very being. As if I’m the rodent, and she’s me.

  Jason moves slightly in front of me, as if to block her from seeing me. “Just give her a try, will you? She has experience with small pets. We haven’t exactly had a lot of candidates.”

  “Fine. Whatever. You’re the manager.” Darcy reaches behind her neck and pulls the plump rat into her hands. “Hello, Prudence.” She brings the rat up to her face and kisses it. I have to suck in my bottom lip to keep from visibly cringing. She holds out her hands toward me with the evil rat leaning closer, probably trying to bite me. “Want to hold her? She’s super friendly.”

  I’d rather toss her out to the alley and let the cats have at her, but I manage a polite, “Not right now, thanks.”

  Kaniyah’s bored voice pages Jason over the loudspeaker. He rubs his hands together and smiles at me. “Okay, so, Darcy’s going to take it from here on out, Sophie. Stop in my office after she shows you around. You’ll need to sign some employee paperwork and tax forms and get your Pet World shirt and schedule. Can you train tomorrow from two thirty until six?”

  I feign delight. “Sure can! Thanks, Jason! I won’t let you down.”

  After he walks away, Darcy rolls her eyes. “Suck-up.”

  I’m not sure how to handle her comment since this is my first real job, but I’m relatively sure a supervisor isn’t supposed to make fun of her trainee. “Yeah, so? I got the job, didn’t I?”

  Darcy shrugs. “It might work for Jason, but not for me. Just do what I tell you, and we’ll get along fine. No sucking up allowed.” She holds her arm out straight, and Prudence scurries up her arm and back onto her shoulders.

  I nearly gag with loathing. “As long as you don’t tell me to do that, I’ll be fine.”

/>   The eyebrow lifts. “Socializing animals so that people want to buy them is the best part of the job. Rats are especially cool because they never bite, not like the hamsters.”

  “If you say so.” I’ll never do that, even if they pay me an extra hundred bucks.

  “Suit yourself. That leaves you with a slightly different job description then. Follow me.” She tilts her head, and I tag along, down the narrow aisle lined with cardboard tubes, plastic tunnels, bags of cedar shavings, and two entire shelves of glass tanks alive with movement. I do my best to avoid looking in the tanks.

  Darcy stops in front of a giant Plexiglas enclosure, half the size of my bedroom, resting on two large tables pushed together. A large banner declaring this “The Ratnificent Mile” spans the entire width of the structure. Inside, rats run in and around a miniature downtown Chicago, complete with kitty litter sidewalks and underground tunnels.

  A black-and-white rat runs into Micy’s Department Store, and a light brown one scurries through a replica of Chicago’s tallest building labeled The Swiss Tower. Several customers stand around the perimeter laughing and pointing. I hold my hand over my mouth to keep from spewing cotton-candy ice cream should this wretched feeling in my gut not pass soon. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite so sick in my life. People actually like to watch this…this perverted city of filth?

  “Cool, isn’t it?” Her long black bangs obscure her vision so she doesn’t see that I’m backing away.

  For crazy rat-a-philes maybe. I try to hide my discomfort. “Yep.”

  Darcy narrows her eye. “Are you sure you want to work here? Maybe you’d be better off at Nordstrom’s or Victoria Secret.” Darcy twists open two sets of hooks on the hinged door and several rats come running toward her. “Not now, guys. Go play.”

  Leaping back in horror, I pray that rats can’t jump. “To be honest, I would rather work at a clothing store, but I refuse to take a bus to work. I live so close, I can walk here.”

  “Great. At least you won’t be late.” Darcy sets Prudence inside, and it makes a mad dash for the John Ratcock. I suppress a giggle. How’d that nickname get past Jason?

  I’m bored and realize I’m not getting paid for today, so I say, “Jason said I start tomorrow, so is there a booklet or something with prices so I can jump in and start selling right away?” I wave my hand toward the tanks, praying that by tomorrow I can actually look at the rodents without feeling the creepy-crawlies march up and down my spine.

  Darcy shakes her head. “You mean he didn’t tell you?”

  “Who? Tell me what?” I hope she doesn’t say I’m manning the Kiss the Rat booth.

  Darcy sighs. “Jason promised me that the next person he hired, he’d give it to them straight. Look. You only work with customers about twenty percent of the time. Socializing the pets is another twenty percent, but since you declined that…” Her voice trails off, and she shrugs.

  I shrug, not following. “What’s the other eighty percent?”

  She laughs so loudly, you’d have thought I asked her how many pink party dresses she owned. “Look around you, princess. There are thirty-seven cages, three guinea pig environments, and the rat house that all need weekly cleaning.”

  I gulp. “Are you saying that most of the time I just clean cages?”

  “Wow, you’re quick. This is a pet store you know. If you figure that each animal defecates at least ten times a day, some even more, and then multiply that…”

  Her mouth keeps moving, but I’ve already stopped listening. “Hold on one second.” My breathing is coming in spurts now because, even though a super cute boy who was flirting with me earlier works here, I’m really, really worried that I made a horrible mistake in accepting the job. “During my interview, Jason said something about being a stock checker. I’d rather do that.” I crane my neck searching for Jason.

  “A stock checker? Is that what he’s calling the crap cleaner this week?” Darcy makes a face, shaking her head. “There’s no mistake. Jason lies to the new recruits. You’re the third one this month. The last time he called the job a ‘maintenance specialist,’” she says making air quotes. She opens a bucket on the floor labeled rat feed. “I’m assuming he at least told you that you make minimum wage, right?”

  I hadn’t even thought to ask, but minimum wage? That stinks, but I need clothes and college tuition and Starbucks, so I need to take this job, but only until I get a better one. “Of course he told me how much I’d make. But since I’m not getting paid for this tour, I’m going to go fill out those forms and head home. See you tomorrow.”

  As I’m walking away, she says, “Sure I will, princess. See you never.”

  Chapter 7

  ON TUESDAY MORNING, I awake at the crack of ten thirty. Since I don’t have to be at Pet World until two thirty, I’ve got the whole morning to myself. Yup, this is the life. No more slaving away in the bakery for a few measly bucks. I spend the morning doing my nails, watching TV, and checking out everyone’s statuses on Facebook. Looks like quite a few of my classmates got drunk last night. Despite my vow to avoid Teegan, I sneak a peek at her wall.

  Had an amazing time

  at Great America yesterday!

  Six Flags rocks!

  Beneath her status are four pictures of Teegan and the Jerks, each one more fabulous than the next. Mike kissing Teegan’s cheek, Fiona and the Blond strapped into the Demon together, and two of the whole group together. I slam my laptop closed in disgust, only to open it again two minutes later.

  What am I doing focusing on Teegan’s love life? I have my own romance brewing. I type in “Giovanni Manocchio,” and the swooning starts all over again. Even though he’s only written a handful of statuses and uploaded five meager pics, he’s got somewhere around five hundred friends. Many of them are girls from his high school, I notice. Of course, I’m friends with a ton of guys from my school, too. Doesn’t mean I’m dating them.

  After I shower, I head to my room to dress in my new Pet World attire. Slipping the bright red polo over my head, I find myself hoping Giovanni calls me today. I want to prove to myself and to Busia that her worries about Dola cursing me were completely off-track. As much as I love Busia and respect her opinion, I still think that all this Dola stuff was a bunch of sweet nonsense. Of course, I can’t deny she saw a rose in my future and Giovanni did give me one. I glance at the stem with two roses on it sitting in a glass of water on my nightstand. That’s odd. One of them is drooping, while the other is perfectly fine. I must have really mangled that one when I dropped it.

  At two twenty-two on the dot, I’m ready for my first day at the new job. I walk through our kitchen junkyard wearing my Pet World polo. Mom and Busia both have coffee cups in their hands, heatedly discussing something in Polish. Mom keeps interjecting “The International Gore-met” into the conversation. I shake my head, thinking it’s useless for her to worry about something we know nothing about.

  “Good-bye, Mother. I’m off to work now—at a job where people don’t think I’m lazy,” I chirp smugly.

  “Not yet, anyway. Good luck!” She waves good-bye, her gold bracelets clanging together.

  Busia shakes her head. “Sophie should work at bakery. Not for dog.”

  Good ol’ Busia. I head to Pet World and punch in at the incredibly early time of two twenty-eight. A new plastic nametag with my name on it dangles from the bulletin board. I pin it on and head off to rodent town to find Darcy.

  Along the way, I see Nick unloading a box of metal dog bowls.

  His face lights up. “Awesome! You got the job!” We chat for a bit and get into a great convo about our summer plans. Turns out Nick’s a partier, and his plans pretty much include drinking every night until school starts. I don’t have a ton to add, not wanting to admit that my plans for the summer went driving off in a black Jeep without me. Still, I have some possibilities brewing with Giovanni, or if I’m lucky, maybe with Nick himself.

  Ohmigod, who am I?

  Nick slices in
to another box with a utility knife. “Hey, did you hear Smack’s playing at Summerfest on Saturday? You know, that big music festival up in Milwaukee?”

  I nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, I went there a few years ago.” I skip the part about how I went to see The Polka Squad with my mother in sixth grade.

  He grins, flipping his bangs out of his eyes. “I’m driving up there with some friends. You should go. It’s only fifteen bucks to get in.”

  Is he asking me out or just making a suggestion? I’ll play it cool so that either way I don’t look like an idiot. “Maybe I will. Sounds fun. I’ll talk to my friends.” Not sure who I’m referring to, as I’m a bit low in the friend department at the moment. I’m still mad at Teegan, and it appears that Waldo and Olivia have evaporated into the Chicago humidity. Beans texted me back to tell me he’s staying at his dad’s house for the week out in Naperville.

  “It’ll be awesome. My brother has a fake ID and can buy us beers.” Nick suddenly gets a serious look on his face. He turns back to the box. “Heads up. Wardley.”

  I turn to see what he’s talking about with not the faintest idea of who or what a Wardley is. Heading toward us is a rotund man with a sweaty face, a huge mustache, and, seemingly, no arms.

  “Good morning, young lady. I’m Mr. Wardley, the store manager.” He reaches out from behind his wide body and holds out a beefy paw. I breathe a sigh of relief that he wasn’t armless after all and offer him my hand. He shakes my fingertips, which feels weird and totally grandmother-y. No, not quite. Busia has a stronger grip than Wardley, probably from all the embroidery and dough kneading she does.

  “I’m Sophie. I started working here today.” I smile, but it feels completely fake, like on school picture day when the photographer’s in a hurry.

  His arms disappear somewhere back behind his waist. “I hope ‘working’ is the key word in that equation. Jason told me he hired someone for Darcy’s department, not for Nick’s.”