Winged

Chapter 11: There and Back Again

Leo leaned back against the rugged brick wall of the store and stared upwards at the sky. One large nimbus cloud was all that occupied the otherwise clear sky. It seemed soft and inviting, the kind you look at and wish you could lie down on it, a thought Leo could realize within seconds, all it would take was to go there, as easily as taking ten steps across the street.

But, of course, he couldn't.

A car parked in front of him started with a roar and sped off to the distance, far above the limit, while kindly blowing a healthy dose of exhaust smoke on his face. As he recovered from a furious coughing fit, he heard someone stop by his side.

"Don't die just yet," said Brittany.

As Leo, who had grasped his knees with his hands as he coughed, stood back up straight, he gave her an examining look. She had massive book under one arm, too large to fit on her already over-encumbered backpack. That black, nylon turtle shell put an obvious strain on her back and shoulders.

Law school sure is expensive, Leo thought. You have to buy all those heavy books and also pay for monthly visits to the orthopaedist.

"Don't worry, it'd take more than that," was what he said out loud. "Going to class?"

"Yes," she answered with the sad look that wanted to ask "How about you?"

"How's it been?"

"Fine," she shuffled her shoulders in a vain attempt to distribute the load comfortably between them. "Very difficult and dull, but they always say the first year is always the worst."

"From what I've heard about college," Leo gestured to her carapace. "It's because by the second year you've given up on taking all but a pen and maybe some paper to class. It's a relief for the spine, if nothing else."

"Interesting theory," she said. Care to test it? he heard her ask, wordlessly. "What have you done all week?"

"Nothing much," he mumbled.

"Nothing much," she repeated.

For a moment, they both stared silently at the pavement. A skinny man on a bicycle rode past them, ringing his bell, before she spoke again.

"But are you planning to do something? Are you looking for a job, or anything?"

I had a job, he thought. And I blew it.

"I have a job," he said, gesturing to the brick building he leaned back on.

"Why aren't you working?" she fired back.

"It's my lunch break."

A half-truth, he had gotten out to breathe during his lunch break, he just hadn't gone back in.

"Leo," she groaned, barely trying to hold back her frustration. "This is a nothing job. You're paid nothing to do nothing!"

Possibly the most accurate possible description for Leo's job. After he finished high school, and as he hadn't enrolled in any college, he felt it was only right to look for a job. If anything, he did it for his mother; it felt very wrong that she had to work two jobs while her slob of a son brought no income and wasn't even studying. For the endeavour of the job hunt, Leo employed as much energy as he did to lift a spoonful of cereal to his mouth while half-asleep during a six in the morning breakfast.

The brick wall Leo leaned back on belonged to an antique store where he now worked a cashier. The reason why Leo could comfortably remain outside even after his lunch break had expired was because, after weeks of observing, he noticed his boss hardly cared. The man was pushing seventy, and was aloof nearly to the point of misanthropy. Leo speculated that, the only reason why he hired a cashier at all, was so that he would not need to interact with any customer himself. A concern almost completely unfounded, as in all the weeks of his working there, Leo received maybe three or four customers. Even then, Leo's interaction with them rarely went beyond "customer wordlessly places purchase and money on the counter, Leo silently puts payment in register and hands change and receipt". It was a form of conducting business almost as lively as depositing cash in a machine.