by Weber, Carl
I spoke up, ready to deliver the words that I’d been practicing for this moment ever since Dave told me he was leaving. “First of all, Dave, let me congratulate you on your promotion. This store’s loss is the entire company’s gain.” I glanced over at Sam, making sure I had his attention. I wanted him to understand I was a team player. “Secondly, whatever I have to do to make the management transition smooth I’ll do. I don’t have to tell you I live and breathe Cheap Sam’s Furniture.” Pretty good speech if I do say so myself.
Dave didn’t seem nearly as impressed as I thought he’d be, though. “Uh, thank you, Avery. I appreciate your kind words,” he said, then shot an awkward glance at Sam. “And as far as your work ethic, I agree with you wholeheartedly. I even went to Sam and told him you were the man for this job.” Dave’s eyebrows were pulled together in this weird, remorseful expression. What the hell was going on?
“And? What did you think, Sam?” I asked, pushing ahead as if I weren’t getting a really bad feeling about this whole thing.
“Ahem.” Sam cleared his throat nervously. “I said that he was probably right, but…”
I tried to remain calm, even though I knew nothing good ever came after the but in a situation like this. This time was no different.
“But we’re going to go in a different direction filling that position right now.”
“Huh?” I felt like all the blood had been drained from my body.
“Avery,” Dave spoke in a rush. “I know this is a little bit of a surprise, but we do have big plans for your career. You just have to be patient a bit longer.”
“Who’s going to be manager?” I asked. If he told me it was one of those assholes I worked with on the sales floor, I was prepared to hit the roof. I was ten times more valuable to the company than any of those fools.
Dave’s eyes went to the young kid, who had yet to say anything. “Avery Mack,” Dave said, “I want you to meet Sam Junior. Sam wants you to train his son to run this store. Figures he should start at one of the stores for a year or two before we move him over to the main office.”
“He’s a smart kid. He just graduated from Boston College, and he’s eager to learn,” Sam added, patting his son on the back. “I’m sure it’s not gonna take long for you to teach him all you know.”
I was so thrown off guard by this announcement that for a second I was totally disoriented. I shook my head as if it would clear my confusion. “Wait—what?” I uttered at the same time that the kid stood up and held out his pasty hand for me to shake.
“It’s going to be nice working with you,” he said. “And once my father moves me up to the vice presidency, I’ll make sure that you get this management position.”
Oh, hell naw! This was not happening. No way was I going to accept this snot-nosed rich kid as my superior. That damn job was supposed to be mine!
I looked down at his hand, which he dropped to his side when he figured out I wasn’t going to shake it.
“Kid, let me ask you a question,” I said in a controlled voice. The young boy nodded. “What exactly is a pillowtop mattress? And how would you distinguish it from, say, the Sealy Posturepedic Solon Plush Euro Top mattress?”
“I don’t know,” he answered blankly.
“Exactly.” I looked pointedly at Sam and then back to his son as I continued, “Tell me the difference between contemporary furniture and classical furniture.”
“Ah, I’m not really sure,” he stammered, and I had to laugh.
“And you want to be a manager in a furniture store?” I turned to Dave. “He’s not even ready to be a stock boy.”
Dave, of course, didn’t have the balls to agree with me in front of the boss. He just shrugged his shoulders and avoided eye contact.
I turned back to the boss. “Sam, please. I know he’s your son, but he can’t run this store.”
“That’s why you’re going to be here to train him,” Sam answered, totally unfazed by the lack of knowledge his son had demonstrated.
“Are you crazy?” I bellowed. “Man, I’m not training that kid to take my job. That’s bullshit!”
“You’re sliding on a slippery slope, Avery,” Dave warned, but by now I didn’t give a crap.
I felt my pulse pounding, causing the carotid artery in my neck to bulge out. I was enraged, and after years of being beaten down, I wasn’t going to take it anymore. No more swallowing my pride only to make a few lousy dollars. Finally, my fury found its voice. “You know what, Dave? Fuck you and your Uncle Tom ass.” I gave him the finger, then turned to Sam Junior and said, “And fuck you too, you little pimply-faced bastard.” Finally, I turned to the owner. “Oh, and Sam, a very special fuck you to you, you Kentucky Fried Chicken–looking motherfucker. You can take this job and fuck yourself. I quit!”
I held both my middle fingers up as I backed out of the room, slamming the door behind me.
Jerri came strutting up to me, looking excited. “Well, did you get the promotion?” I could practically see dollar signs in her eyes.
“No, I didn’t get it! Matter of fact, fuck you, you stink-ass, gold-digging whore!” I left her standing there with a dumb look on her face as I stormed out of the building for the last time. Even though I’d just quit my job, my adrenaline was at an all-time high. If this was what it felt like to live like I was dying, then I wanted more—lots more.
Benny
16
I sat at my computer, putting the finishing touches on my latest blog entry. As I hit save, I started thinking about the night ahead of me, wondering what it would bring. Whatever it was, I knew it would be fun. It’s not every day a guy turns twenty-one. I planned on making the best of it by going out to a club, getting drunk as hell, and with any luck, getting laid. I knew the latter was a stretch, but a guy could dream, couldn’t he? As I wrapped up my journal entry, I heard a knock on my bedroom door.
“Come in,” I called out, knowing it could be only one person.
My father stuck his head in the door.
“Hey, Pop. What’s up?”
“Nothing much, son. I’m getting ready to head on out.” He entered the room with the same depressing look he’d had earlier, when he got the call to go back to the firehouse for the night shift. “I’m sorry about tonight.”
“It’s all right. I’ll see you in the morning.” I tried my best to sound disappointed, but I wasn’t at all. With him out of the way, I was sure I would have a much better time. I loved my pops like a friend, but he was still my parent, and there are some things you don’t want your parents to see. I was hoping to get into some of those things tonight.
“No, it’s not all right. It’s your twenty-first birthday. For years I’ve been telling you that when you turned twenty-one, I was going to take you out and get you drunk for the first time.”
I held back a smile. The look on his face was so pitiful I almost wanted to tell him not to feel bad because I’d been drinking for years.
“Don’t worry about it, Pop. It’s all good. We’re gonna get drunk together one of these days.”
“Well, anyway, here you go…” He handed me an envelope.
“What’s this?” I asked.
“Open it and see,” he urged.
I pulled out the card and glanced at the inscription inside, but I was much more interested in the smaller plastic card inside the envelope.
I held it up, and Pop said, “It’s one of those Visa gift cards. I saw the way you were eyeing Daryl’s iPad, so I figured I’d give you one.” He patted me on the back. “Happy birthday, son.”
“Thanks, Pop.” I got up and gave him a quick hug.
My father’s eyes wandered over my shoulder. “Who’s that you got as your screen saver?”
I shrugged. “Oh, that? That’s Daryl. I got his picture off the Internet.”
“Three-B Daryl?” He sounded confused.
“Yep.”
He leaned in to get a closer look. “Oh, shit. That is him, isn’t it? He looks like a boxer or something.
”
“MMA,” I said. “He used to be some kind of Mixed Martial Arts champion back in the day.”
“Get the heck outta here. No wonder he kicked those guys’ asses by himself like that. I was starting to think I was getting old.”
“You are old.” I laughed. “Hey, speaking of Daryl, maybe I’ll see if he wants to go grab a beer with me tonight.”
My father hesitated, clearing his throat before he said, “You spend an awful lot of time with Daryl, don’t you?”
“Yeah, we’ve struck up a pretty nice friendship. I like him a lot. Why, you jealous of our friendship?” I teased.
“Who, me? You’re my son. What do I have to be jealous about?”
“Exactly. I mean, considering I never say anything about your friendships and all the time you spend with Ms. Pam, Ms. Karen, Ms. June, and Ms. Nancy, I don’t see why you would be jealous. Me and Daryl are just friends. You and those ladies are—”
“I get your point.” That was enough to get him to drop the subject.
It actually made sense that he was jealous, considering the fact that I was hanging out at Daryl’s a lot, playing video games and stuff. Daryl talked to me like a man, unlike Pop, who seemed to forget sometimes that I wasn’t a little kid anymore. Sometimes I got so frustrated that I’d been thinking about moving into the dorms at Fordham or getting my own apartment. Pop seemed to be a little threatened by my friendship with Daryl, but I wondered what he’d think if he knew that Daryl was the one who convinced me not to move out. He said I should have a talk with my father instead. I still didn’t have the guts to do it.
“I’m gonna have a birthday surprise for you later in the week,” Pop said. “You have a happy birthday until then.”
About a half hour after Pop left, I knocked on Daryl’s door. I knew he’d be home, because he always seemed to be around at night whenever I stopped by.
“Hey, Benny, come on in, man.” He waved me in unenthusiastically. I could tell from the start that he wasn’t in the best of moods. “How’s things?”
“I’m doing a’ight, Dee,” I replied as I plopped down on his sofa in front of the TV. “Tell me you haven’t been in your pajamas all day.”
Daryl looked down at his clothes, which consisted of a T-shirt, pajama bottoms, and slippers. He frowned as if it had finally dawned on him that he was dressed for bed. “Yep. Haven’t even made it to the shower yet.”
“What’s up, man? You sick?”
“Nah.” He sat down on the recliner and picked up his cell phone from the end table. All of a sudden it was like I wasn’t even in the room. He punched in a few numbers and placed the phone to his ear. I watched his jaw tighten as he waited for the call to connect. Dude was seriously tense. He looked beyond pissed when, getting no answer, he finally pulled the phone away from his ear, hit end, and slammed it back down on the table. “Dammit!”
“Daryl, everything all right?”
He didn’t answer right away. It took a minute for him to come back from wherever his head was at. “Oh yeah. Yeah, dude,” he finally said. “I’m okay. Just got a lot on my mind the past few days.”
“You sure?” I asked. “ ’Cause you sure don’t look okay.”
Again he hesitated.
“Look, man, you know you can talk to me, right? I mean, you listened to me talk about my pops plenty of times before,” I assured him.
Daryl looked at me and shook his head. “No, man, as a matter of fact, I’m not all right. I’m fucking pissed,” he admitted.
I felt bad that he was upset, but I have to admit that it felt pretty cool to think that Daryl saw me as an equal, as someone he could confide in—not like some little kid.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“You remember the other day when I told you I was supposed to be going out to the Hamptons to see a friend?”
I nodded. “Yeah, the morning we ended up helping Ms. Nancy clean up when the pipes burst in her apartment. You said you had to cancel on your friend.”
“Exactly.” He picked up his phone again and stared at the screen, but he didn’t make a call this time. “Well, I’ve been trying to call ever since, and I ain’t heard a peep from her. First she wasn’t answering her phone, and now it’s disconnected.”
“I mean, I’m no expert in the love department or nothing, but it sounds like someone is trying to send you a message.” I was joking, trying to lighten his mood a little, but the look he shot me could have melted ice.
“My bad,” I apologized. “So, what’re you gonna do? You got no other way to get in touch with your girl?”
He shook his head. “She’s not my girl. She’s a friend. Someone I thought I could trust. Someone who wouldn’t play games.”
If this person wasn’t his girl, he sure looked broken up about her getting ghost on him. But what did I know? My expertise was in electronics, not relationships.
“Wish there was something I could do to help,” I offered.
As if an idea had suddenly come to him, he whipped his head in my direction and said, “Y’know, maybe there is.”
“Happy to help,” I said. “What is it?”
“You’re good with computers. You think you could track down a cell phone signal?”
I shook my head. “I’m good, but not that good. I don’t have the equipment to do something like that. We’d have the FCC all over us.”
He stayed quiet for a minute before he came up with another idea. “Well, what about hacking into the account for the number I have? Maybe if I can see who she’s been calling, I can find her.”
“Yeah, man, I could probably get into the account,” I said. My father would kill me if he knew what I was agreeing to do, but what the hell, I was helping out a friend.
“Cool. I’ll go get my laptop,” he said.
I stopped him before he could leave the room. “Uh, not tonight, man.”
“Why not?”
“It’s my twenty-first birthday. Hacking something like that is complicated and time-consuming if you don’t want to get caught. I’m trying to go to the club and get my drink on,” I said. “I actually came by to see if you wanted to go with me.”
Daryl’s shoulders drooped like he was totally disappointed. Damn, he must have been really strung out on this chick if he couldn’t even wait another day for me to hack her account.
“C’mon, Dee. Go get dressed. It’ll do you some good to get outta here. I’ll get her phone log for you tomorrow.”
He waved his hand, trying to look like he wasn’t pressed. “Nah, man. That’s not it. It’s just…” His eyes wandered around the room like he was searching for an excuse. “Didn’t you tell me your pops wanted to take you out?”
“He’s working tonight. Besides, he’s not exactly the best person to be with if I’m trying to meet someone, if you know what I mean.”
“Why not?” Daryl asked, looking slightly more relaxed. I guess talking about my issues with Pop—for the millionth time—helped him get his mind off the disappearing chick. “From what I see around the building, your father seems like a pretty popular guy. He might be able to give you a few pointers.”
“I wish,” I said. “It’s just, you know, sometimes he doesn’t know when to back off. Shoot, in high school it was so bad I stopped even trying to get with any girls. I mean, it’s pretty embarrassing trying to walk a girl home when your pops is trailing behind you in his car the whole way.”
Daryl let out a low whistle. “Yeah, I’d say that’s pretty bad.”
We laughed and joked for a while longer about the silly shit my father used to do, but all in all, I couldn’t complain. He might be a little overprotective, but Pop had taken good care of me ever since my mother died.
“What do you say, man?” I asked. “You gonna come with me or what?”
“Why don’t you ask some of your friends?” he said.
That kind of hurt a little. Was he saying he didn’t consider us to be friends after all?
“You know,” I said, t
rying to sound like it didn’t bother me, “if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying not to hang out with me.”
I guess that got his attention, because at least this time he didn’t totally try to brush me off. “No, man. That’s not it. It’s just that I’m a little tired, and I haven’t even had a shower today. Why don’t you run out and grab us a six-pack or something? I can whip your ass at some Madden.”
It was closer to what I wanted but still not good enough. “Aw, man, I don’t wanna stay in tonight. I’m twenty-one ! Don’t you remember what it was like when you reached the drinking age? I want to go out to a club, throw back a few drinks with my boy, and who knows? We might both get lucky.”
He shook his head. “It’s getting late.”
“Late?” I walked over to his living room window. “It’s not even ten o’clock yet. We’ve played video games until three o’clock in the morning.” I turned to face him and asked, “What’s really going on?”
“Maybe we can do it tomorrow.”
“Tonight’s my birthday, not tomorrow. I’m only gonna turn twenty-one once.” I hate to say it, but I was starting to sound like a whiny little kid, even though the law said I was officially a man now.
“Look, I’m sorry. I can’t go out with you tonight,” Daryl snapped, catching me a little off guard. I’d never seen him catch an attitude like that before. Well, I had something for him if he wanted to bitch up on me.
“Yeah, well, I guess I can’t hack that number either.” I stood my ground, waiting for him to respond. I wasn’t sure whether he was going to give in or tell me to get the fuck out of his apartment.
After some uncomfortable silence, he said, “Hey, Benny, I’m sorry. I apologize. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that. It’s just that…” His words trailed off, and then he finally said, “Hell, I guess I should tell you the truth.”
He bent down and raised his pants leg to expose a large black bracelet around his ankle. “I can’t go out with you because I’m on house arrest.”
