I put my hands on her shoulders. “They won’t take your son because you’re trying to protect him….” I reached for a tissue in my pocket and wiped her face. “If he comes back, promise me that you’ll call the police.”
“I will, Miss Glory.”
I had heard that before, but wanted to believe her. I stood and took Carla’s hand, leading her into the kitchen. I unpacked the food into the cupboards and opened the refrigerator. “Milk should always be in your refrigerator. Donovan needs it and so do you.” She nodded; she knew that, but days would go by without Donovan having a glass of milk or even a decent meal. I handed Carla the check. “Take this directly to the electric company. This is the last time I’ll be able to help pay it. You know that, don’t you?”
She nodded. “I got that job, so I’ll be able to pay all my bills now.”
I hugged her, saying how excited I was for her, and bent over to kiss the top of Donovan’s head. “Adiós.”
“Good-bye, Señorita Cuckoo.” He giggled and shoved a handful of Cheerios into his mouth.
I got into my car and waved. Carla waved back and I prayed that this time she’d have the strength she needed to keep Thomas out of her life.
A few days into the job Fred Clauson, the head of security, told Ray and Chaz that they’d have to rotate the night shift till after Christmas. “It’s supposed to be a season of peace,” Fred said. “But somebody manages to break into the store around this time every year.” Chaz volunteered to take the shift by himself.
“We always rotate the night shift through Christmas,” Ray said.
“I can work it,” Chaz said, taking a swig of coffee. “It’s no big deal.” Actually, Chaz figured there were fewer people to deal with at night, so he could do what he wanted. He liked it that way.
“Why would you want to work solid nights for weeks on end?” Ray asked.
Chaz shrugged. “I don’t know. It doesn’t bother me.”
“You are a hard one to crack,” Ray said, slapping the top of the desk. He slid a stale chocolate-chip cookie from an open package in the bottom drawer into his mouth. “Just be sure you keep up with the job, you know. Being alone here at night isn’t necessarily a good thing. It’s easy to get distracted and forget about the work.”
Chaz nodded. “Don’t worry about it.”
Ray leaned back in the chair and folded his hands on top of his head. “Uh-huh. You’re thinking that Ray don’t know jack, but in reality Ray’s got your back!”
“The Robert Frost of the security team.”
Ray laughed and flung himself forward in the chair. “Oh!” he said, sliding a note in front of Chaz. “Be sure to go see Judy in the office before the end of the day.”
Chaz thought about going to the local sports bar at the end of the street throughout his shift. Drinking was the high point of his life, and he looked forward to it to cap off each day. At the end of his shift he grabbed his coat and ran for the door but stopped, remembering that he needed to see Judy. He ran up the stairs to the main office and let Judy roll one finger after another into ink before pressing them down into tiny squares on a card. “What did employers do before fingerprinting?” she said, chattering on about her new granddaughter. “Guess it was easier for convicted felons to find a job!” She placed the fingerprints into a large envelope and sealed it. “That’s all there is to it,” she said. “Simple as that.” He rubbed his purplish blue fingertips together and walked out of the store toward the bar.
He jumped awake at four A.M. The room was stiflingly hot and he couldn’t breathe; the sheets were covered with sweat. He sat up on the edge of the bed. Where did Judy say she was sending those fingerprints? To what screening company? “Simple as that,” she had said, sealing the envelope. What had he done? How could he have made such a stupid mistake? He looked at the clock again: four oh-one. Judy wouldn’t be at the store again until Monday morning. There wasn’t anything he could do about it over the weekend. He bent over the bathroom sink and splashed water on his face, trying to figure a way out of the mess he’d just made. His hands started to shake and he walked to the kitchen, where he cracked open a can of beer. He downed it, but a current surged through his body and he drank three more beers before the shaking stopped.
His mother used to say that the most crucial lessons we learn aren’t the ones we learn once but the ones that keep coming back, bending us till we nearly break. Those are the ones that take longer to learn, she had said once. Again and again he would do something that screwed up his life. He raced full bore into one situation after another, and in each town in which he lived, he just seemed to gain more speed until he ended up wounded and bruised in a ditch of his own making. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung in the eating area. No matter how much he wanted to stop, he did the same things over and over again and despised himself for it. He was at the point where he lived in a perpetual state of dark equilibrium where he just sort of existed. Up until the last few months his life had always worked; he got by. Now, for whatever reason, it wasn’t working anymore. He slumped to the floor, clutching the beer in his hand, and rested his head against the wall. He stayed there till dawn.