picked up his cup, blowing on it to cool it. “This here ain’t the best hot chocolate, but it ain’t too bad, either.” He took a small sip. “Ahh, good. Try some.”
Jeff shook his head.
“I know what you’re thinkin’. But the money that paid for this came from winning with a straight flush last Saturday night. Pot was worth about forty bucks.”
Jeff looked from Curtis back to the chocolate. It smelled pretty good. Still.... “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
Curtis’s eyes narrowed. “Got no reason to, Jeffrey.”
Jeff studied the cup for a long moment. He removed the cap and sniffed at the foamy brown liquid before taking a tentative sip.
It tasted wonderful.
He put it back on the table. He didn’t want to look too eager.
“You know, I think you got a lot of pride. That ain’t necessarily a bad thing. You don’t want people doin’ for you. You think it makes you look weak.”
Jeff didn’t comment.
“It don’t feel good to be beholding to others. I know that feeling.” Curtis took another sip of cocoa.
“So what would you do? I gotta live there. Richard’s got papers that say so.”
Curtis shrugged, held his cup up to eye level and examined it before taking another swig. “I’d get me a job, then I could pay my own way.”
Jeff snorted. “I’m not even sixteen. Who’d hire me?”
“My friend Joe Miller has a car wash up on Main Street. He’s looking for a rag boy.”
“Rag boy?”
“Yeah. Someone who’ll dry off the windshields and wet spots after the cars come out of the dryer.”
“Don’t you have to be sixteen to get a job?”
“Not if you get a parent or guardian to sign your working papers.”
Jeff shook his head. “Richard would never sign.”
“He might if someone could convince him they were going to try to eat again.”
“Did he tell you—?”
Curtis shook his head. “I been around the block a few times, boy. Not much gets by me.”
Jeff huddled into his jacket, his voice small. “I want to eat. I just ... lost interest.”
“You got to start out small. Like drinking a cup of hot chocolate.” Curtis took a deep swallow. “Better with whipped cream from a can.”
Jeff nodded and took another sip of cocoa. It did taste okay. More than that, it tasted good. Really good! He allowed himself a deeper swallow. “How much does a rag boy make?”
“Minimum wage. But lots’a people tip. It’s the tips that make the job worth doing, especially this time a year. People feel sorry seeing a boy working in the cold and wet.”
“When do you think I could start?”
“Why don’t we go visit Joe and you ask him?”
#
“A job? What are you, crazy?” Richard cringed at the sharpness in his tone. It was close to eleven o’clock on a school night as he looked around the crowded Emergency waiting room to see if the people in chairs were all staring at him.
Jeff looked from Richard to Curtis. “I told you,” he muttered.
“Why don’t we all sit down and talk about this,” Curtis said, but despite the hour there weren’t three empty chairs in one spot.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Richard asked.
“No,” Jeff said, belligerently. “You always make me wait. Not this time. Why? Why can’t I get a job?”
Richard shook his head. “Not here. Come on,” he said, and led them to a side corridor. They followed him down it to a small conference room. He switched on the light and ushered them into the uncomfortable office chairs. Jeff slumped, looking lost in the winter jacket that was miles too big for him, arms crossed across his thin chest, his expression defiant.
“I’ve got ten minutes,” Richard started. “That’s all, to explain to you why—”
“You just can’t stand to see me do something I want to do for a change.”
“Working in a car wash? Why in hell would you want to do that?”
“Because I don’t want to be beholding to you all the time.”
Richard sighed and tried to regain his temper. “Jeff, you
Jeff shook his head.
“I know what you’re thinkin’. But the money that paid for this came from winning with a straight flush last Saturday night. Pot was worth about forty bucks.”
Jeff looked from Curtis back to the chocolate. It smelled pretty good. Still.... “You wouldn’t lie to me, would you?”
Curtis’s eyes narrowed. “Got no reason to, Jeffrey.”
Jeff studied the cup for a long moment. He removed the cap and sniffed at the foamy brown liquid before taking a tentative sip.
It tasted wonderful.
He put it back on the table. He didn’t want to look too eager.
“You know, I think you got a lot of pride. That ain’t necessarily a bad thing. You don’t want people doin’ for you. You think it makes you look weak.”
Jeff didn’t comment.
“It don’t feel good to be beholding to others. I know that feeling.” Curtis took another sip of cocoa.
“So what would you do? I gotta live there. Richard’s got papers that say so.”
Curtis shrugged, held his cup up to eye level and examined it before taking another swig. “I’d get me a job, then I could pay my own way.”
Jeff snorted. “I’m not even sixteen. Who’d hire me?”
“My friend Joe Miller has a car wash up on Main Street. He’s looking for a rag boy.”
“Rag boy?”
“Yeah. Someone who’ll dry off the windshields and wet spots after the cars come out of the dryer.”
“Don’t you have to be sixteen to get a job?”
“Not if you get a parent or guardian to sign your working papers.”
Jeff shook his head. “Richard would never sign.”
“He might if someone could convince him they were going to try to eat again.”
“Did he tell you—?”
Curtis shook his head. “I been around the block a few times, boy. Not much gets by me.”
Jeff huddled into his jacket, his voice small. “I want to eat. I just ... lost interest.”
“You got to start out small. Like drinking a cup of hot chocolate.” Curtis took a deep swallow. “Better with whipped cream from a can.”
Jeff nodded and took another sip of cocoa. It did taste okay. More than that, it tasted good. Really good! He allowed himself a deeper swallow. “How much does a rag boy make?”
“Minimum wage. But lots’a people tip. It’s the tips that make the job worth doing, especially this time a year. People feel sorry seeing a boy working in the cold and wet.”
“When do you think I could start?”
“Why don’t we go visit Joe and you ask him?”
#
“A job? What are you, crazy?” Richard cringed at the sharpness in his tone. It was close to eleven o’clock on a school night as he looked around the crowded Emergency waiting room to see if the people in chairs were all staring at him.
Jeff looked from Richard to Curtis. “I told you,” he muttered.
“Why don’t we all sit down and talk about this,” Curtis said, but despite the hour there weren’t three empty chairs in one spot.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?” Richard asked.
“No,” Jeff said, belligerently. “You always make me wait. Not this time. Why? Why can’t I get a job?”
Richard shook his head. “Not here. Come on,” he said, and led them to a side corridor. They followed him down it to a small conference room. He switched on the light and ushered them into the uncomfortable office chairs. Jeff slumped, looking lost in the winter jacket that was miles too big for him, arms crossed across his thin chest, his expression defiant.
“I’ve got ten minutes,” Richard started. “That’s all, to explain to you why—”
“You just can’t stand to see me do something I want to do for a change.”
“Working in a car wash? Why in hell would you want to do that?”
“Because I don’t want to be beholding to you all the time.”
Richard sighed and tried to regain his temper. “Jeff, you
Similar Books
