Chapter Six: Things Are Rough All Over
“I’m sorry, Mr. Reynolds, we’re looking for someone with more… experience for this job.”
Job interview number 7: No luck again.
My job hunt was not going well at all. Apparently, if you have a criminal record at age 17, you can’t get a job around here. Hell, even an educated goody-goody couldn’t get a job because of the recession.
My last chance (before starting to look on craigslist or the streets again) was at the local auto repair shop. Having to fix the crap-mobile I always used to drive got me pretty well acquainted with cars, so I think I had a pretty good chance at landing this job. That is, if they didn’t ask about my record.
I pulled Jamal’s car into the badly paved parking lot and turned off the engine.
God, if you’re out there, please help me get this job, so I don’t have to meet other women like Penelope Ray. Please let me make Gabe proud…
“Ah, hey there!” The scratchy voice of Rick Shula, the owner of the shop, called from the garage. “You must be Devin Reynolds. I believe we have an interview.”
“I believe we do.” I said as I locked the car’s door behind me.
Rick Shula led me into his small office next to a lift with a Chevy Silverado on it. He wiped the oil off his hands with the towel that was pushed through his belt loop. “So, Devin, tell me about yourself. What’s it like to be you?”
“Well, my brother Gabe and I are living with my neighbor until I can get a house for us.”
Rick looked confused. “Why are you living with your neighbor? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“My parents aren’t good parents.” I said coolly, hoping to leave it at that. I didn’t really feel like divulging into my pathetic, messed-up home life.
Rick seemed to get the message as he nodded. “So, anyways, can you change a tire?”
“Yep.”
“Can you change oil in a 1962 Ford?”
“Yessir.”
“Do you know what a car sounds like when it is running well?”
“Yep.”
“Well then, you got the job! If anything else comes up, I’ll teach you what you need to do.”
I was startled. “Huh?”
“You start next Monday. I’ll have a uniform for ya when you come in.” He scribbled something onto a few pieces of paper on his desk.
“T-Thank you! God, thank you so much!”
“Hey,” he smiled, placing a hand on my shoulder, “I’d do anything to help a kid out.”
Before I left, Rick suggested ‘taking a gander’ at the employee manual that he hand wrote himself. It wouldn’t take that long to read by the looks of it. I spent a few minutes filling out some paperwork before heading back home.
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Shades of Gray ~A Delinquent's Story~
Teen FictionDevin, a seventeen year old delinquent, never had the easy life most people take for granted. He didn’t have parents who cared enough to ask where he was when he stumbled back home at three in the morning. He didn’t have a solid, stable household...
