This story is by Terese Jones and was part of our 2024 Fall Writing Contest. You can find all the writing contest stories here.
I’m not sure if he knew how loudly that Oregon Ducks t-shirt screamed for attention, louder than the tattoo’s covering every exposed inch of his body, and yet his eyes said “leave me alone”. Emotionless, as if attempting to make himself disappear, wanting nothing more than to go home, and feeling edgy from a long night fighting with his old lady, Tom walked to the Snack Shack where the others were waiting.
The morning was cool and grey clouds hung like a damp rag over his close shaved head. Damm, it better warm up he thought to himself. The blunt they shared on the morning drive did little to take the edge off her words. “Don’t fuck with me, I meant it when I said, the bank of Christy is closed!” She dropped him at the gate without so much as a look back and he wondered if she really meant it this time.
Abandoned, save for the vendors taking down their stands and packing up to leave, the fairgrounds echoed with the energy of yesterday’s crowd. Half eaten hot dogs and lemonade cups overflowed the garbage cans. The smell of grilled onions and French fries fueled a hungry he had not felt in a while. But he was here to work so he shut himself off from the rumbling in his belly like he had many times before.
“We have four restaurants to clean and shut down. This will require an organized approach” Ernie addressed the rag-tag group. It had been hard finding enough people willing to come in to close things down and he hoped that they could get it done in one day. He couldn’t afford more than that. “Marie and Laura you take Gaucho Mex. Gabby and Leslie you two take the Snack Shack, Trudie you take the Sunshine Shack and Nancy why don’t you take Alex and Tina to help with the Showplace.”
“It would make more sense if we finished one site at a time. If we do it your way, we won’t get anything done.” Nancy barked, with irritation in her voice. Not willing to be dismissed so quickly, Ernie turned and said “Tom you go with Don to take care of signs. Stay with him and do whatever he tells you to.” Grudgingly, Tom nodded. Hands shoved into his pockets he turned to Ernie and said, “so what do you want me to do?”
“You are going to help Don take down signs. Go with him to each booth and he’ll tell you, follow his lead”. Crossing his arms, Tom hung back as he sized up the old man. Don’s black suspenders held up jeans that hung loose around his frame. His dark leathery skin revealed well-muscled arms culminating in bear paw hands that sat quietly on the bed of his truck as he listened. Clear blue eyes took in the situation as a sigh of resignation escaped Don’s lips. “Well, let’s go.”
Going through the motions was going to be harder than Tom thought. Reintegrate, they said. Become a productive member of society or …. what? More of what he already knew. The cobweb on his left elbow wasn’t the only reminder of his long stay in prison. In truth, prison had its advantages. Just do his time and get out of there, that was the plan, and it worked. But things weren’t how he thought on the outside and Tom was in no mood to take orders.
Disgusted, he watched the old man bark orders. “We need the tall ladder, it’s behind the trailer, go get it”. Not really caring to do a dammed thing Don said, Tom wandered about the fairgrounds, half hoping he wouldn’t find the ladder, half hoping he’d find something to eat and even more, wanting a hit off that blunt he snuck out of his old lady’s bag. Bitch. Took her long enough to let him stay at her place and only on “conditions”. Who the fuck did she think she was?
As people drifted off to their designated assignments, it became clear to everyone that Tom wasn’t sure what he was doing but he didn’t care. It was just a few bucks he was after not a career. Eventually finding the ladder, he went after a dolly to move it. Finding him in the middle of a walkway Don questioned, “What are you doing? Pick it up” Incredulous at what he saw.
“It’s heavy” mumbled Tom. “No, it’s not, it’s aluminum! For Pete sakes, I’ll move it” and picking up the ladder Don carried it to the Snack Shack. Tom followed, indignant at the old man’s irritation. After setting it up, they climbed on the roof to start working. While Tom was taking down signs his mind wandered until his stomach started grumbling, this time more insistent.
Heading down the ladder to cut the power so that he could shut the exhaust fans off, Don left Tom alone. When Don returned, Tom was nowhere to be found. “Hey, where are you kid” was greeted with the smell of weed wafting from the other side of the roof. Shaking his head, Don went back to work. Why the hell did Ernie saddle me with this pot head, might as well have cut off my right arm for all he’s worth, Don thought to himself.
And so this is how the general manager found them when she came halfway up the ladder and asked for Don’s keys. “Do you smell weed?” she said with a frown on her face. Don nodded his head and with eyebrows raised pointed to where Tom was hiding out. “Hey! Tom!” she yelled. Slowly Tom showed himself. “If I catch you smoking pot again, you’ll have to leave. Do you understand?” Defensive, Tom responded, “I’m not smoking.” “The hell you aren’t!” slipped out of her mouth as she climbed down the ladder and left with a glare in his direction.
“Fucking bitch, I’m a grown man. Who does she think she is?” he thought to himself as he walked down the ladder. “I’m going to the bathroom” he mumbled under his breath while climbing down the ladder. As the day progressed Tom became more and more disgruntled. Wandering around the fairgrounds felt liberating and yet the lingering feeling of being accused (deservingly or not) hung on. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Fuck Ernie, fuck my old lady and fuck that old man fueled his resolve to walk away.
“What the hell are you doing?” said a voice from behind. Cautiously he turned around to see Nancy with her hands on her hips staring him down. Tom tried to slip away, refusing to look her in the eyes but she was unphased. “Look mister, I went out on a limb for you. What the fuck are you trying to do here, get me fired too?” “I don’t know what you’re talking about” Tom mumbled, but she didn’t let up. “Everyone is looking for you. You were given one thing to do. One simple thing and you can’t be bothered to do it? He’s an old man who needs your help for Christ sakes. At the very least you could try to work with him.”
Tom felt the pulse in the vein on his neck as he fought back the anger. How dare she treat him like a naughty child! “You know you could learn a few things from him. Look, if you can’t get your act together, I give up.” walking away shaking her head. Act together? Give up? What was she giving up, him? Tom fumed as he found his way back to the old man.
“You told them I wasn’t doing anything; I was fucking off” he shouted, shoulders squared, and fists clenched. “No, I didn’t” incredulous at the accusation, “I told them I couldn’t find you” Don defended himself. “Well, I was here” Tom argued. “Where were you here?” with anger in his voice. Don had had it with this lazy entitled bastard “I was in the front” voice weakening as Tom realized his defense was questionable. Don persisted, “Nah, you weren’t, and you know it. I came down the front.”
Unable to look Don in the eye, realizing he couldn’t lie his way out of this one, Tom stood silently. After what seemed like an eternity, Don picked up his plyers and turning to go back to work said, “Look, you might not want to be here but here you are. You have two choices: hate every moment of it or tell yourself that what you are doing is the most important work in the world. Even if it’s a ditch, make it the best ditch you ever dug. That way your work will be light, time will fly but more importantly, you will have something to be proud of.” Then as cool as a cucumber Don turned “Take down the breakfast signs, okay?”
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