he might have missed something, first glance.
“Either way, I like your moxie. You can start on Monday, come in at four. Hannah will show you the ropes. We start you at minimum wage, work hard and we’ll talk about a raise after a couple of months.”
“Hannah?”
“Yeah—she’s only been here a few weeks. But she’s real sharp. Worth twice the average kid I’ve had in here over the years. And I’ve had plenty.”
It takes me about ten minutes to fill everything out, and I copy my driver’s permit on an antique Xerox machine in the corner and leave it all on the top layer of the desk. I have no idea where my social security card is. I can ask Dad, but I bet Mom is the one who would know.
18.
When I get home I IM DTerra and tell him I got a job making pizzas. He tells me that’s awesome and asks if I can eat as much as I want for free. I just ignore him because the main thing is that I don’t have to go live at the Institute with Mom, now that I’ve got a job. Because I feel like I’m close to something with Starfare. I realize having that shortcut move at Nationals, that wasn’t about my real skills. I might have even done better without it, because I wouldn’t have got flustered against the guy who won it, MilesBlue.
Even though Nationals turned into an epic fail, lately when I play I get the feeling I’m on the edge of a breakthrough. If I can just climb up that one last rung everything is going to seem simpler and slower and I will be able to move through the game the way Keanu Reeves moves through the Matrix once he discovers he’s The One.
I play a one-on-one game of Starfare while DTerra finishes up his game and then we get in a queue to play some two-on-twos. We’re deep into our third game when, somewhere in the back of my mind, I hear Dad slamming the door. After we win I tell DT I’ve got to go and I head downstairs to tell Dad about my job.
I find him in his study, watching a golf tournament.
“Hey,” he says, as I step through the open door. “Catch this.”
I walk around and stand next to him while we watch a replay of a chip shot from some guy in checkered pants that bounces on the green and works its way to within a few inches of the hole.
“Jesus, I could die and go to heaven happy if I hit just one shot like that in my life.”
As far as I could figure, Dad only plays golf about once a month. I have no idea how he thinks he could get any good at it, playing that much. If I played Starfare once a month I’d be a total noob in no time, and that’s starting out good.
“Dad,” I say, “I got a job.”
He looks away from the TV, at me, looking surprised.
“That was quick work.”
“Yeah, I’m starting over at Saviano’s on Monday.”
“Saviano’s? Think you’ll be able to get us some free pizza?”
I tell him I don’t know. Then he fires off about a dozen questions, about how much I’m making, how many hours I got guaranteed, whether I get overtime. Each one I answer by saying I don’t know yet, that I haven’t even started. Each time I say that he looks more disgusted.
“Sounds a little shaky to me,” he finally says. “But don’t worry. I’ll pump it up when I talk to your mom. You at least bought yourself some time.”
Before I go to bed I send out an email to Mom and Garrett telling them about my new career in the food services industry. Mom says she checks her email a couple of times a week, so I don’t expect any immediate response. But Garrett is right on top of it and IMs me.
3-PointShooter: Hey nice job with the job…bet dad is in shock
ActionSeth: not really
3-PointShooter: man I miss those Saviano pies. Tell Saviano he opens a store up here he’d make a killing
ActionSeth: there’s no Saviano—guy’s name is O’Neill
3-PointShooter: who cares as long as it tastes good
ActionSeth: exactly
3-PointShooter: how many hours?
ActionSeth: not sure yet, maybe 20 or so
3-PointShooter: cool u get free pizza right?
I’m not sure if I should say anything but I figure if anyone has good advice in this department it’s Garrett.
ActionSeth: 1 10-inch with every shift. And there’s this girl who works there
3-PointShooter: alright little bro! Now you’re talking, hot right?
ActionSeth: well, yeah, but it’s more than that
3-PointShooter: better yet. if you look in the back of dad’s bottom dresser drawer he has about 10 boxes of condoms…
ActionSeth: I know. But I’ve hardly talked 2 her yet…
3-PointShooter: Just show that ur interested in whatever she’s interested in man. Good things will happen. I promise.
I sign off with a sigh. Maybe it’s that easy for Garrett.
19.
On Monday I wake up late, get some Lucky Charms and spend some time watching some new Korean tournament Starfare games that have just been posted. Every time I think I’ve stepped up my game I watch these guys play and realize that I’m slipping further behind. It’s just seems that they’re able to make every move faster and with fewer steps, like when you solve a math problem in nine steps and then the teacher shows you how to do it in five. But then again, once the teacher shows the shortcuts they’re immediately obvious. I’m thinking that if I were training with other pros and we were all trading shortcuts and strategies, it would probably be the same.
In the back of my mind I’m trying to figure out whether I should get to Saviano’s early, to show how eager I am, or right on time, to show that I can follow directions. I finally decide that it would be best to be a little early so I head over to the store, but when I get to the door I change my mind and just hang outside, checking my cell phone until it says 3:59.
Once inside I see the girl who gave me the application standing behind the register. When I get near I start to tell her that I’m here to work but she shushes me and I see she’s counting change. She’s got her hair tied back again, green Saviano’s Pizza baseball hat on. Her lips are moving with the count, and I can’t take my eyes off of them. I’m trying to read what number she’s on, but I can’t read lips and in my mind she’s whispering, “Seth, Seth, Seth.” This makes my face feel hot so I decide to memorize the menu. I figure that will come in handy.
I’m all the way to the subs when she startles me and says, “The old man docks us if we’re short.” She’s wiping her hands on her apron, like the money was filthy, which is what my mom is always saying. “So I always count it out, start of my shift. Supposed to be $50, and about half the time it’s off. About a hundred percent of that time it’s short.”
I nod.
