The sound of quacking ducks not far away awakened me. As my eyelids slowly opened and my senses became clearer I realized I had fallen asleep again. I grabbed my art supplies and wrapped them into the quilt my grandmother knit me when I was a baby and started running home. The sunset on the horizon was a beautiful pink and orange as the sun took its final minutes in the sky. On the sidewalk I dropped my favorite paint brush and stopped to grab it. As I bent over to reach it a yellow taxi cab drove by splashing me with this morning's rain. I grunted and stood up starting to run again. I knew my mom was already setting the table with dinner, I had about three minutes to get home or I would be in trouble. My mother always said that I was terrible at keeping time and one of these days I was going to get into trouble. I rounded the corner and ran up the stairs to the hotel. I passed the bell hop and smiled, "Hey Bert" I called running to the elevator.
"Afternoon Miss Rosie, one minute and fifteen seconds," Bert giving me how much time I had left as he tipped his hat.
I thanked him as the elevator opened and waited until we reached the ninth floor. I ran through the hall to room 415 where my mother and I lived. I opened the door and the warm smell of garlic bread burst out of the room into the hall. I dropped my things in my room on my way to the dining room where my mom was just sitting down. Looking at the clock my mom said, " Thirteen seconds late."
I sat down and took a big gulp of water from the glass in front of my plate.
"Beat my time by ten seconds," I breathed catching my breath.
"Still late." My mom muttered as she stuffed a fork full of spaghetti in her mouth.
"Why is your back wet?" My mom asked.
"Cab splashed me." I answered.
After a few minutes of silence I looked up to her, "You'll never guess what I got to paint today, it was incredible. I was sitting under Meryl and this Monarch Butterfly flies up to me and lands on my knee. It sat there long enough for me to paint him. It was like he wanted me to paint that picture." I speculated.
"Wonderful dear, finish up." My mom disregarded me.
I picked up the ceramic plate and put it into the dish washer. Ever since dad died, mom seemed to be off in another world. She never quite seem to hear what you were saying. I could basically get away with murder because she didn't pay attention to anything. Not that I would commit murder but I have yet to be punished for returning home late every day. Anytime someone would say anything that would be close to the topic of dad she would change the subject or leave the room.
A few months after dad died we lost our house and had to move. My mom had to get a job and the only one she could find was at a hotel called Four Seasons. The owner of the hotel allowed us to move into one of the suite's that was never used. My mom's job is the night chef. She is the chef that works night for late night eaters. Her dream was always to become a head chef or own her own restaurant but she never went after that dream. I know she still thinks about it but she says nothing about it.
I went to my room. As soon as I opened the door I saw my plain white walls and queen size bed with the fancy comforter. The bed was made and there was nothing on the floor because I have not been in my room since the maid cleaned. Shirley is the maid and she knows that the only thing I want her to touch is the bed and clothes on the floor. In the far end of the room is an old mahogany desk that used to be my dad's. All over it was art supplies with painted pictures and blank papers mixed together. I love all kinds of art but my favorite is to paint. I love to go to the park under my tree and sit and watch everything and paint it. My favorite painting that I have made is in a frame above the desk. It is of my dad as I remember him.
As much as I love painting I didn't feel like doing anything so I turned my radio on any flopped on my bed. I zoned out while listening to music and soon it was eight thirty. My mom knocked on my door and opened it slightly, "I'm going to the kitchen, don't stay up too late. We are going somewhere tomorrow."
"Where?" I was surprised.
"Out" she replied.
I sighed and she left.
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June was coming to an end and I have yet to find a job. My grandmother keeps telling me I need to get one so I have money to get into college. Like I even want to go to college. My dream is to become a famous pianist. Not a classical pianist, something cooler like, a keyboard player for a great rock band. I don't need to go to college for that.
I was lying on my bed listening to Journey and looking through the wanted ads for a good job. Every single job was downtown, which I have no way of getting there. I crumpled up the newspaper and threw it across the room. I turned over onto my stomach and let out a huge sigh. I had no idea how I was going to get a job at this rate. I looked at the clock and it said eight thirty eight. I looked out my window and there was only a thin line of light over the horizon. I jumped up off my bed. I ran out of my room and downstairs.
"I'm going for a walk Gran. I'll be back soon." I yelled to my
Gran.
"Okay Trevor, don't forget to wear your coat." I heard Gran's unsteady voice call from the living room.
I imagined her in her little night gown in her favorite chair watching the shopping channel until her favorite show, America's Got Talent came on. As I walked outside a gust of hot air blew into my face. I wondered why she told me to wear a coat when it was so hot outside. I looked around and the sun was steadily going down. The traffic was slowing down some so I decided to cross the street. I wasn't going anywhere particular; I just needed to get out of the house because I was so bored.
There were a lot of people out walking because it was nice out. I noticed back across the street was an old man with a puppy. It was a yellow lab that seemed a little rambunctious. The pup was trying to run ahead but the man couldn't keep up with him. The man started to grab his chest and heave deeply. I looked to see if any cars were coming and ran back across the street and to the old man. I grabbed the dog's leash and the man's hand at the same time and helped him sit down.
"Are you all right, sir?" I asked him as he reached his hand in his pocket.
He took out an inhaler and put it up to his mouth. He took a puff and held still for a minute. He put it back into his pocket and looked up at me.
" Yes, I'm quite all right thank you." He assured me.
"It just keeps getting harder and harder to walk Larry, he always wants to run and play but I just can't keep up." He stood up hastily and patted Larry on the head.
He took back Larry's leash, "What's your name young man?"
"My name is Trevor, I'm seventeen.." I informed him.
"Well Trevor, thank you for your concern. We don't get enough of consideration these days. Kids only care for their technology now. My name is Jerry Philips. Call me Jerry." He thanked me as he shook my hand.
"Nice to meet you Jerry." I smiled.
" Well I better be getting home, I'm expecting a call from my granddaughter. Really, thank you." He scooted Larry and turned to walk the opposite way.
As he started to walk away I got an idea.
"Excuse me! Jerry!" I yelled to him.
He turned around and looked at me, "Yes?"
" I was wondering if you needed a dog walker? I could walk Larry for you each day. I live right here, you could call me anytime he needs to go to the bathroom. I could bring him to the park too to play with him and waste some of his energy." I offered hopeful.
He stood there for a second contemplating; he looked down at Larry who was almost jumping up and down.
"You know, that's a great idea. I live right down the street at 342. Stop by tomorrow morning at ten and you can bring for a trial walk. We can talk about how much I will give you then." He smiled and turned back around and set off for home.
The sun was completely gone now. I turned around and walked back home, excited for the new job and something to do this summer. It was really lucky for me to have decided to go for a walk tonight. I thought back to how unlucky my life has been. When I was seven both my parents were in a car accident. My dad had been driving. A big delivery truck smashed head on into their car. My dad died instantly, the crash had scared my mom into a heart attack and she later died in the hospital. I was sent to live with my grandparents in New York. My grandpa and I were really close. He would bring me fishing every weekend and taught me how to fix things around the house. One day when I was thirteen I came home from school and found him on the kitchen floor with a broken light bulb near his head. He got electrocuted. Gran was never the same after he died.
I reached the door and went in. I was excited to tell Gran about my new job. I walked into the living room. I was about to tell her when I saw that her eyes were shut. He mouth was slightly open. I looked at the TV which was still on. She was wearing her light pink bathrobe and had on her memory foam slippers. I was scared that she might not be breathing. I reached over to her lap where the remote was and turned the TV off. I heard her slight, quiet breathing. I relaxed my shoulders and exhaled. I swept her thin, white hair from her forehead and kissed her head. She is so small I picked her up and carried her up to her room. I laid her on her bed and put on her thin sheet. I looked at her small wrinkled face and felt grateful towards her, taking care of me after her daughter and husband died. I sighed and went to my room.