by Mel Todd
The half laughs and mutters just made him smile and he flipped open his power point. "Well, since this is the beginning of your last semester, let's get going. This is all about paperwork and regulations, which are not only common, but the three job tracks have similar forms, though of course they all go by different names. We will be starting with medical assistant paperwork and move on from there. Expect a lot of reading and tests on the material weekly. You'll get your reading assignment at the end of each class." With that he launched into it, but I barely registered what he said.
My mind was still locked on losing thirty-two hours a week. I worked at Grind Down about thirty hours, mostly weekends and noon to close, as all the classes seemed to require mornings. I did homework in the evenings and took one or two online classes for the more basic stuff. I needed to sleep and eat; commuting here via public transportation both ways easily ate up two hours a day.
I frantically tried to figure out how to deal with the ramifications. If I cut hours, I'd be short on money. I already ate most of my meals at the Grind or at Jo's, so I didn't need to buy food. Right now, all my money went to tuition, my cell phone, and buying necessities like hygiene supplies, the local transit pass, and other things. Parents still paid my health insurance, but unless I thought I might die I never went. The copay hurt too much. After taxes, I made just under nine hundred a month. Between December and January, I'd been making closer to twelve hundred with the extra hours. It would give me a cushion for the next few months, but my mind flew back to the five hundred from the other day. That might be enough to get me through a month, maybe two. While I had some in savings, that was my escape from Rockway money.
Oh gods, I'm going to have to ask them for money.
My stomach clenched at the thought and I thought I might be sick. My scalp itched so fiercely I couldn't resist clawing on it, ignoring the white dust drifting to my shoulders.
"Yo, Bruce. Is the clock supposed to be doing that?" one of the students called out, pointing up at the clock on the wall.
I looked up to see the hands on the clock spinning backwards. Bruce had stopped talking and looked at it also. "Interesting. Wonder if there was an electricity surge." As the words left his mouth the projector connected to his laptop sparked, sputtered, and smoke drifted up from it. He stared at it and sighed. "They have got to get the electrical system in this room fixed. This is the third projector in two years. Okay peeps, you know how to be adults. The pages are from this textbook," he said and patted a new book. "This one and this other one,"—he paused for a moment and pulled another textbook out—"are the required books for this course. Only two of them, but they will be where all your classwork comes from. I know the paramedic track will have some supplies you'll need to purchase. Check the bookstore for the bundles you'll need. Now back to the fun world of HIPPA regulations." He continued to talk, telling us what to read and reference and what the test would be on in a month.
I took notes, making sure I had everything, but the other part of my mind, the one trying not to have a meltdown, started going through options. There weren't that many: parents, teacher, Molly. I swallowed down my panic. No need to start swimming across the rivers until I figured out if there was a bridge.
Bruce Marxin wrapped up the class early and most of the students streamed out, but I lingered and walked up to him, trying very hard to keep any hint of whining out of my voice. Maybe I'd get lucky and this wouldn't mean I'd be eating nothing. I hated asking Jo for food, no matter how often she invited me over.
I cleared my throat and he looked up at me. "Yes, Miss Munroe?"
Not wrinkling my nose took effort, I hated people calling me that. It felt wrong. "Mr. Marxin, I had some questions about the ride-along internship things."
He paused what he was doing and looked at me. "What about them? I don't believe you're feeling squeamish. You've gone through all the stuff without blinking. Heck, I think you were the only student not puking at the cadaver trip."
"Oh, no, I don't have an issue with any of that." I didn't want him thinking I was a wuss, I wasn't. Blood and gore didn't even register with me most days. "It's more the hours. Are there any restrictions as to when you are expecting us to do this or how many days a week?"
He tilted his head and his eyes drifted down and back up. Part of me wished he was ogling my chest and butt, but I was a B cup and had slim hips and a small butt. Definitely nothing there for anyone to lust over. And while I might qualify as cute, any guy with brain cells would take Jo any day of the week if she liked men. But I knew he was registering my clothes. My worn, out of style, clothes. "This is the trial run of this program, so I'm sure the various groups that have volunteered to help will be open to flexible schedules to accommodate work. But you may have to make some sacrifices." He managed not to sneer or sound pompous as he said all of that, but I still couldn't see how I wasn't going to take a major hit. Molly only stayed open until four. Maybe I could do all evening shifts?
"Okay. When will we get the list and how do we know what we're doing first?" I didn't think my voice quavered, but I never could tell.
"It should be out this afternoon. Everyone will be emailed their schedule. We are rotating." Maybe he saw how stressed I was because he gave a little. "I think there may be weekend and evening work available. This program is supposed to make life easier by giving you a very strong skill set, not force you to flunk out. And we will be asking for advice and suggestions when you graduate as to how it could work better."
I nodded, a jerky motion as my head felt like it might fly off. That unexpected money from my parents might be the only thing to make it so I didn't end up dropping out because I couldn't pay. "Thanks."
"You got down what you need to study for next week?" he asked as he closed the laptop.
I had no idea if I did or not, but I nodded. While none of us were friends in class, we had exchanged email addresses and I could shoot someone an email if I couldn't read what I scribbled down.
"See you next week." He strode out without looking back. I trudged out of the classroom, the weight of financial worries dragging me down. I needed to go to the bookstore and buy the two books and other stuff I'd need. My mind went in loops as I walked. This was the only morning class I had, and now that it was monthly, that meant I could work the rest of the weeks in the morning. My other classes were all late afternoon. But the ride-along terrified me. Working through the money, I tried to convince myself I'd be able to do it. At least I didn't have to pay rent too. Most of the other students had a few years on me and qualified for scholarships and loans. I didn't because I hadn't passed the maximum emergence age and my parents made plenty of money. They figured we were too likely to change our minds if we emerged with different skill sets than what we were studying for. Idiots. Only forty to fifty percent of people had magic. Which meant most of us just wanted to have a life and live.
That brought me back to Molly. I needed to see where I was. I knew she couldn't afford to pay me more, so I'd either need more hours or come up with an idea for something else to make money. And all the while know I was leaving her for another job, one that I could live off of, as soon as I graduated.
There was a line in the bookstore—there always was. Small town and no one else would ever carry the weird things they came up with for classes. Even online I couldn't find them sometimes. I headed towards the area that should have my stuff and found the kit. Both textbooks, a practicum for the paramedic stuff, and a bag with supplies. We went through a lot practicing how to take care of someone. At least it was a decent quality bag. Then I saw the total price and my eyes started to water. The light two rows over exploded in a shower of sparks and people screamed, startled. I didn't even move just staring at the black letters. Three hundred forty-eight dollars and thirty-two cents before tax.
Can't I ever get a break?
Chapter 10
OMO - the Office of Magical Oversight. Established in 1937; became a global entity in 1954. The idea for the OMO started
in Russia of all places by Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov, better known as Lenin. Haunted by stories of Baba Yaga, the Snow Queen, and the reality of Rasputin, plus having lived through multiple revolutions and World War I, he felt all mages should be recorded and controlled. Originally, he wanted all mages to serve at the will of the state or face imprisonment, but cooler heads prevailed. However, multiple governments agreed being able to track more powerful magic users had its uses. Thus, the OMO first started in Moscow, was moved to Paris, then eventually had its own building next to the United Nations building in New York. Now it is the controlling bureaucracy for all mages. ~ History of Magic
I spent the ride back to the Grind Down trying to figure out if I could get the books and supplies cheaper online. I could find one book cheaper, but when I added in the supplies, it always came out to more. In a weird turn of events the bookstore had it for cheaper than I could piecemeal it together, and as a bonus had the nice bag that I couldn't get anywhere else. No matter how hard I looked, there wasn't any other option.
Maybe Molly can give me a few more hours, or we can do a weekend thing that goes later. Mix in some end of winter stuff? Something, as I'm about two hundred short no matter what I do to afford everything. Or, I drop my savings to under five hundred, which means I'll have a hard time affording an apartment anywhere.
Getting out at my stop, I slogged my way up the street toward the coffee shop, my bag weighing nothing compared to the burden of worry and stress that dragged at my every step. Approaching the front door, I forced myself to stand up and put a smile on my face. Maybe I could still salvage this. Pushing the door open, the familiar smell of coffee and baked goods filled my senses and it made smiling a bit easier. How could you be sad when you could all but taste pumpkin pie scones?
Carl stood at the counter cleaning while Kadia was picking up things from one of the tables.
"Yo, dudette. You on shift?" Carl asked, his voice lazy, as if it really didn't matter either way.
"Nah, well not yet. Molly in?"
"In back. Muttering 'bout numbers." He nodded to the back then turned to deal with cleaning out the bakery display, already dismissing me from his attention.
"Thanks. Hey Kadia, feeling better?"
"Yeah. So sorry about calling out, but trust me, I couldn't get more than five feet from the toilet. You didn't want me here." She still looked a bit pale, but her smile was back, and she wore yellow beads in her braids today. Each bead had a chaos symbol on it.
"No, I didn't. But glad you're feeling better. I'll talk to you later." I headed into the back as I said the last. The idea of a staying open later on the weekends would give me hours and hopefully make money for her.
I reached the back room and knocked on the door jamb to her tiny office. Molly lifted her head and smiled at me, though I could tell from her wrinkled brow she had a headache. Too bad none of the mages could ever come up with a way to completely prevent headaches. Now that would have been worth a fortune.
"Hey, Molly. Got a minute?"
"Sure. Take a seat." She waved at the only chair in the tiny office. "You aren't on shift, are you?" Molly looked up at the calendar on the wall where we all kept our shifts listed and if we needed to swap with someone, we would update.
"Nah. Class got out early today. Hey, I wanted to talk to you about maybe staying open later on the weekends. I was thinking maybe we could do some book clubs or something to draw people in later. Drum up evening business. I could run it, probably by myself." That was the truth, but it also meant whatever tips were earned would be all mine. And right now, even an extra ten dollars would make a difference.
The lines around her eyes and mouth grew deeper. "I actually needed to talk to you. I've already told Carl and Kadia. I need to cut back hours on the shop."
My throat went dry and what little wisps of hope I had vaporized in that instant. I made myself listen as she continued to talk.
"The profit in the afternoons isn't there, and actually I'm losing money at this point. After running the numbers, I've decided I'm going to start closing at two every day." Molly forced a smile. "Look at the bright side. You'll have more time to study."
The smile I forced onto my face felt more like a grimace than anything else, but I kept it there and nodded. "That makes total sense. Not worth staying open if you're losing money."
"But I think your weekend idea is a good one, just not right now. I'll look at it later in the year." She gave me a sad smile. Molly knew I'd be gone by then.
"Not an issue. Just random ideas. When does the shift change take effect?" I asked as I rose up, trying to keep my panic at bay. Maybe I could find a second job. I could do with less sleep. Lots of people didn't need more than five hours or so. I could make myself do it. Only six months. I could pull it off.
"Next week. So normal schedules this week. I need to get the new signs up so people know about the change." She sounded apologetic, but at least she was doing it for the right reasons. If she closed, we'd all be out of work.
"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow morning at open."
The ringing of her phone distracted her and she just nodded at me, reaching for it. I let myself out of her office and headed to the front. So much for getting out of here. I didn't have a choice anymore. My mood darkened like the skies outside. Another winter storm coming in. Maybe I'd get lucky and it would snow.
Waving at Kadia and Carl, I stepped outside, avoiding their concerned looks. Most people in town knew something about my past, but right now their sympathy would kill me. I started towards the bank. I didn't have a choice. I'd need to deposit the money and then go back to the bookstore. Might as well do it today while I had the time. Tonight I'd figure out just how bad my life was about to be.
Wrapped in my own stewing, I didn't notice anything until the horn yanked my attention to my surroundings. I spun trying to figure out what the issue was. The streets had gotten icy as the temperature dropped, something I had noticed as I walked. People were yelling now, and I looked to see a car spinning down the road. An older model family SUV was literally spinning on the icy streets down the road. I could see the terrified look on the woman's face as she gripped the wheel, then she was gone as the car spun, heading right towards the big light pole at the intersection.
Oh crap, please hit it with the rear end of the car, please hit it with the rear end of the car.
The thought spun in my head as I ran that direction. There was no way for the car to miss it, and as I watched, it slammed, passenger side first, directly into the huge pole. The sound of the impact exploded like a death knell in my mind and I pushed to run faster. I slid to a stop by the car, not bothering to call 911. Not this time. I could see others with their phones out, taking pictures, calling, someone would have already called.
I went to the driver's side first, calling on my lessons so far and wishing desperately I had already bought the damn bag. I dumped my backpack and grabbed the small emergency kit I kept in it. Disposable glove, CPR shield, pads, and inflatable splint, nothing major but enough that maybe I could help until the professionals arrived. I pulled out the gloves and slipped them on, then turned to the door. I pulled on the handle and it opened. First major hurdle down.
"Ma'am, can you hear me?" The air bag had gone off, leaving white powder everywhere. Her nose was bleeding, but she blinked her eyes and looked at me. Good, she was alive and conscious. Win! Relief started to soothe across the scorched earth of my panic.
Her eyes fluttered open and closed, then she frowned at me, turning her head a bit looking around. "Wha?" Her voice trailed off and all the head injury options rippled through my mind.
"The paramedics are on their way. Stay still and they'll get you out." As I spoke, I ran my hands quickly down her arms and legs, checking for any obvious injuries. She shifted her feet a little, which was a great sign.
"Bobby?" She said, looking around, confusion fading from her face replaced instead with worry. "Where's Bobby?"
I knew I needed to keep her
calm. I placed a hand on her shoulder, causing in her to look at me. "Who's Bobby?"
Let it be a dog or she got confused.
As she blinked at me, I glanced at the seatbelts again, all slack and no car seat in the back or front.
"My son. Where's my son?" Panic spiked in her tone and she started to struggle. I really didn't want her to move—I still had no idea what internal injuries there were—and while it didn't seem like her spine had been damaged, that didn't mean she should move until they got her strapped to a board. Car accidents did weird things. I knew she'd have bruises, but she could have also done real damage to her organs.
"Ma'am, there's no one else in the car. Are you sure?" Confusion was often present after head injuries, and if she was my patient I'd suggest a CT.
"In the back, I picked him up from school. He wasn't feeling well. He was laying in the back." She started trying to get free but gasped in pain.
Fudge, she's going to hurt herself.
"Stay still. Emergency personnel will be here shortly. I'll look, but you need to stay still.
"Where is he?" her frantic voice cut deep.
I swallowed and forced a smile. "Give me a minute and I'll check. Just don't move. You need to make sure you stay still."
"Look for him, he has to be there." It was obvious she didn't care about herself and that worried me even more.
