Chapter 1 – TJ
I huddled underneath my covers, quivering uncontrollably and praying to God that my parents would stop fighting and go to sleep. Fearful that their anger would shift, and they would come looking for me.
“I saw the way you were looking at her,” my mother screamed from somewhere down the hallway of our little trailer. “That stupid slut! I could tell you’ve fucked her.”
I heard a crashing sound and willed the bed to swallow me whole.
“You’re crazy,” my father bellowed, the sounds of glass breaking filled the trailer, and I assumed they’d begun throwing things at each other.
Soon they’d begin hitting each other, and eventually they would turn their rage on me, or they would make up. Either way, I wouldn’t be getting any sleep. I tried my best to start replaying The NeverEnding Story in my head. If I was lucky, I’d lose myself in the world of Bastian and Atreyu, and by the time their story was over, the house would be quiet.
“TJ?” the voice of my boss pulled me out of the memory. I shook my head slightly, then brought my eyes to his.
“Yeah? Sorry, boss, I wandered off for a minute,” I admitted, slightly embarrassed at being caught drifting off.
“Can you come back into the office for a minute?” he asked turning and walking back toward his office, without waiting for my reply.
I looked over at my buddy Cal, who’d popped his head out from under the hood of a Chevy he was working on. He met my gaze and shrugged, indicating that he wasn’t sure what the boss wanted this time.
I picked up a rag and made an attempt to wipe the grease off my hands before proceeding down the hall. I knocked lightly on the open door and peeked my head around the corner.
“Come in and have a seat, TJ,” my boss said in greeting.
I walked in, running my hand nervously through my hair, not caring that I was probably streaking my dirty-blonde hair with grease. Being called into the office always made me feel like I was a kid getting in trouble again. Or worse, like I was being called in to answer questions about the bruises on my body, when the last time I’d eaten was, or when was the last time I’d bathed and changed clothes. Either way, I hated feeling weak and uneasy.
I sat and waited.
Our hours had already been cut, and I knew business was bad, so I figured whatever the boss wanted to say couldn’t be good.
“TJ, you know things have been going downhill here for a while, and I’ve tried to do what I could to preserve the business and get back on even ground, but I’ve come to a decision … There’s no way easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna rip off the Band-Aid,” The defeated look on his face made my stomach clench. “I’m selling the business. Mary and I have raised four kids, I’ve had this shop for over twenty-five years, and it’s just more stress than I want to deal with. We’re going to retire and head down to Florida to be by our oldest. She’s having her second baby, and Mary wants to be by her grandkids. I know you and Cal will take a hit from this, but you’re both hard workers and good at what you do, so I know you won’t have any trouble finding another job. I’ll be happy to write a letter of recommendation if you need one.”
I felt a mixture of anger and hurt at his words. Not because I didn’t understand his position, or wish he and his wife the best, but I needed this job. I depended on it. I loved the work, and the privacy of living on the grounds. I’d been picking up painting jobs with my friend Brock’s company, but it wasn’t full-time work and it didn’t pay as much as working at the shop. The clenching of my stomach turned into a burn.
