by E. L. Todd
“Or be as dangerous,” Easton said. “I feel more comfortable now that we have killed two. Hopefully we’ll be able to take down one alone eventually.”
“I think that’s going to take some time,” Calloway said. “Let’s not rush into anything.”
Breccan nodded his head vigorously. “Yes,” he said. “Let’s not.”
When Easton parked at the curb in front of the house, Uncle Scott was standing in the driveway, grabbing his bag from the passenger seat of his car. He stared at Easton’s mustang for a moment, mesmerized by the classic ride. He smiled at Calloway and Breccan as they emerged from the car.
“Hey,” he said as he walked to them.
“Hey, Uncle Scott,” Calloway said as he stood beside him.
“Hi,” Breccan said.
Easton opened the car door and patted the hood of the engine. “She’s a beauty, huh?” She smiled.
Uncle Scott smiled as he appraised the car. “You read my mind,” he said. “I’m jealous my son gets to drive in it.”
“I don’t mind taking you for a quick spin,” Easton said.
Breccan rolled his eyes. “You shouldn’t have said that.”
“I’ll take you up on that offer,” Uncle Scott said. “But it’ll have to wait for another night. My wife has dinner ready.”
“The offer is available whenever you’re ready,” Easton said.
“I’m sorry but I didn’t catch your name,” Uncle Scott said.
“Easton,” she replied.
“Would you like to come inside for dinner?” he asked. “We would love to have you. Anyone who drives a car like that is welcome in the house.” He stared at the car again as he tightened the strap on his bag. Even though it was dark outside, the red paint of the vehicle glistened under the streetlamps. Calloway didn’t care for cars but he understood how appealing it was.
“Sure,” she said. “I can’t say no to a home-cooked meal.”
“And my wife knows how to cook,” Uncle Scott said. “She may not being able to change the oil or fix the television but she can do that.”
Easton laughed. “Well, food is more important anyway.”
“You got that right,” Breccan said.
They walked to the front door and came inside.
“Hey, honey,” Uncle Scott said as he placed his bag against the coatrack. Calloway and Breccan dropped their backpacks by the stairway and stripped off their heavy sweaters.
Aunt Grace opened the kitchen door and smiled at them. “I’m so glad you’re home,” she said. “I was getting lonely.” She saw Easton standing next to Breccan by the door. “Hello, dear,” she said. “Are you staying for dinner?”
“If you’ll have me,” Easton said.
“Of course!” Aunt Grace said with a jump. “I’m so glad Breccan and Calloway brought a friend home. Come inside and have a seat.”
Aunt Grace ushered them into the dining room and set an extra plate for Easton. “I hope you like tacos,” she said as she placed the plate of warm tortillas stuffed with tender pieces of chicken on the table.
“I’m sure I will,” Easton said. “Breccan and Calloway always have good things to say about your cooking.”
The smile on Aunt Grace’s face stretched until it reached from ear to ear. Her cheeks reddened at Easton’s words, and it was obvious how happy the compliment made her. “I do my best,” she said quietly.
Everyone grabbed their tacos and began to eat. Calloway was so hungry he wasn’t listening to the conversation Easton and Uncle Scott were having about the classic car she drove. He shoved the tacos into his mouth and swallowed the large pieces almost whole. Breccan was concentrating on his food as well and he made the face he always did when he ate, like his plate was the only thing in the room.
Aunt Grace clapped her hands together. “So, how’d you two meet Easton?” she asked with a smile. She could barely contain her excitement that they brought a girl home, and one that she liked.
“At school,” Breccan said sarcastically. “Where else?”
“We have math class together,” Calloway said quickly. He didn’t want Breccan to start an argument at the table. Also, they only knew Easton because they were aware of her interest in the dark arts, or what people thought was Satan worshipping. Calloway didn’t want to say the truth; that she was helping them fight against the Anti-Life.
“That’s very nice,” Aunt Grace said. “Are you going to the dance, Easton?”
Breccan rolled his eyes.
“Well, yes,” Easton said.
“Do you have a date?” Aunt Grace asked.
“Not yet,” she said.
“Why don’t you go with Breccan?” Aunt Grace asked.
Breccan sighed. “Mom.”
“I was just making a suggestion,” she said innocently.
Easton shrugged. “He hasn’t asked.”
“Yes, I did,” Breccan argued. “I asked you this morning.”
Easton rolled her eyes. “You said you wanted to go with me because you didn’t want to go with a real girl,” she said. “That’s what you said—not very intriguing.”
“I meant that in a good way,” Breccan said after he swallowed his food. “I don’t have to be fake around you—you’re my friend.” Calloway knew those were the nicest words Easton was going to get out of Breccan. She may as well agree to the dance while he was being nice about it. “So will you go with me?”
Easton was quiet for a moment. She drank from her water glass then returned it to the table. “Okay.”
Aunt Grace clapped happily. “That is wonderful news,” she said. “I’m so happy. The formal is going to be amazing—magical.”
Breccan and Easton rolled their eyes at the same time. It was obvious that neither of them would have an experience like Aunt Grace and Uncle Scott did—a romantic one.
“Who are you going with, Calloway?” Aunt Grace asked.
Calloway finished chewing his dinner before he spoke. “No one,” he said. “I’m going alone.”
“He is going with us,” Breccan said.
“That’s the same thing.” Calloway laughed.
“You’ll find someone,” Easton said. “There’s still time.”
Calloway shrugged his shoulders and continued to eat. After they were finished, Aunt Grace served bowls of ice cream, vanilla with chocolate syrup, and they ate their dessert at the kitchen table. Uncle Scott asked Easton more questions about her car, and Easton answered his queries with a smile. Calloway knew she didn’t care about the car—or the fact that it was an expensive antique—she just loved it because it was her father’s. Calloway felt the same way about his picking knife and glowing orb. They were both worthless but had value because his father once owned them. He didn’t know where they came from or how his father obtained these gifts but they were precious to Calloway—he treasured them.
Calloway grabbed the dishes and placed them in the sink. Easton rose from her chair and helped Calloway wash the dishes and insert them into the dishwasher. Breccan sighed loudly before he rose from his seat and started to help his friends. Calloway stared at him for a long moment before Breccan met his look with a smile.
“Don’t get used to it,” Breccan said.
When they finished putting the dishes away, Easton turned to Aunt Grace. “Thank you for dinner.” She smiled. “And for welcoming me into your home.”
Aunt Grace hugged her. “You’re always welcome here,” she said. “Please come again soon.”
They walked her to the entryway, and Breccan opened the front door for Easton. She stepped outside and walked to her car.
“Aren’t you going to walk her out?” Aunt Grace asked Breccan.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Breccan snapped.
“Well, she isn’t going to be any time soon if you keep this up,” Uncle Scott said.
“Good night,” Easton yelled from her car.
They all waved at her and shouted goodbye. Calloway shut the door and bolted the lock.
Au
nt Grace touched Calloway on the arm. “Your boss called from Togo’s earlier today,” she said. “Your shift starts at eleven.”
Calloway nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I didn’t know you applied for a job,” she said with a suspicious look.
Calloway shrugged. “I have too much time on my hands,” he said. “I need to find a hobby.”
Uncle Scott nodded. “Good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks,” Calloway said. He walked upstairs before Aunt Grace could question him further about his new job or his plans for the winter formal. When he got into his room, he fell on his bed and fell asleep immediately.
Customer Service
The next morning, Calloway rode his bike to his new job down the street from the high school. He was nervous to begin his first day of training but he forced himself to remain calm. He already killed two Hara-Kirs; this should be easy. He locked his bike in the rack then walked inside.
The employees stared at him for a moment but no one spoke to him. Calloway smiled at them all as he walked behind the counter and approached his boss, who was standing at the register, counting money in the drawer.
“Good morning, Joe,” Calloway said as he shook his hand. “Thank you again.”
“Hello, Calloway,” he said with a smile. “Clock in on your time sheet and have one of these guys train you.”
The workers glanced at each other and frowned—no one wanted to teach him. Calloway advanced to the backroom where the time clock was mounted on the wall. There was a large sink to wash dishes and a meat slicer on the counter, along with a walk-in freezer. Calloway clocked in and returned to the front of the store.
One of the girls trained him for a while, and Calloway learned the steps quickly. After one hour of instruction, Calloway was helping customers on his own and was making the sandwiches without any mistakes. Calloway noticed the employees didn’t seem so irritated with him since he was a good worker. They made him help everyone in line while they had personal conversations in the hallway. Calloway didn’t mind. He was just happy he had a job.
After the lunch rush was over, Calloway saw his two friends walk inside.
“Hey,” Easton said as she walked up to the counter. “How’s your first day?”
Calloway nodded. “It’s been good. I don’t have any complaints.”
“You never have any complaints,” Breccan said sarcastically.
“Is it okay if we talk to you?” Easton asked as she glanced at the employees standing behind him, watching the TV mounted on the wall in the lobby.
Calloway looked over his shoulder then back to Easton. “Yes,” he said. “There are no customers so I don’t see the issue.”
“So, when do you get off?” Breccan asked. “We still have decoding to do.”
“Not that you help at all,” Easton snapped as she looked at Breccan. “You just sit there and eat.”
“Well, I would help if I knew how,” Breccan said angrily.
Calloway rolled his eyes. “I thought we were past this.”
Breccan turned back to his cousin. “So when is your shift over?”
“At four,” he said. “That’s only a few hours away.”
“We’ll pick you up then head to the Headquarters,” Easton said.
“No,” Calloway said as he shook his head. “I have to complete my college applications and finish some homework.”
Easton stared at him with an incredulous look. “Calloway, none of that matters anymore—don’t you get it? If we don’t succeed in this there won’t be a school to go to.” She lowered her voice and leaned closer to him. “I know you want to make your aunt and uncle proud but college is irrelevant at this point—we have other things to worry about.”
Calloway grabbed the knife that was sitting in the lettuce container and played with the handle. He refused to believe he had to sacrifice his entire future to save their Life and After-Life. “I don’t see why I can’t do both,” he said quietly.
“When you commit yourself to a project you have to exert all your effort toward it—not some of it,” Easton said.
Calloway sighed. “We have all day tomorrow,” he said. “And you don’t need me all the time.”
Easton stared at him for a moment then dropped her hostile look. “Fine,” she said. “Call me when you’re finished. We’ll come get you.”
“And we’re going to Weston’s,” Breccan said. “Neither one of us feel like killing anything today.”
They both turned from the counter and walked out of the store. Calloway watched them go with a saddened expression. He had no desire to work a job while he was in high school but he couldn’t let his aunt pay for his mistake. Now he was watching his friends drive away to enjoy their Saturday, leaving him behind. Calloway felt horrible for lying to his aunt when he told her he wanted a job because he was bored. He was surprised they didn’t catch him in his lie. The knowledge made Calloway feel even worse—they trusted him to tell the truth.
His boss walked behind the counter and placed a stack of ones in the register. “How are you doing, Calloway?” he asked.
“It’s been a good day,” Calloway answered. “I think I got everything down.”
“That what the kids were telling me,” he said. “I’m very impressed.”
Calloway shrugged. “Thanks.”
“Are you going to college next year?” Joe asked.
“I hope so.”
Joe chuckled. “You’re humble—I like it. Where do you hope to attend?”
“I applied to Fresno University,” Calloway answered. “I hope I’m accepted.”
“And what is your study of interest?”
“I don’t know,” Calloway answered. “I really like English.”
“That’s a good choice,” Joe said as he turned around. He leaned against the counter as he looked at Joe. The front door opened and Joe looked at the customers. “Everyone says you’ve been doing a great job and I want to see your progress.” Joe nodded to the customers that were waiting in line.
When Calloway turned around he felt his heart drop. Hawk was standing in line with his arm wrapped around Beatrice’s shoulders. When he saw Calloway’s face, he smiled and started to laugh.
“This is just too perfect,” Hawk said as he walked to the counter. Beatrice said nothing as she stood beside him. She didn’t look at Calloway and focused her gaze on the menu mounted on the wall behind him.
Calloway swallowed the anger he felt rise in his throat. His boss was watching him and he had to prove he was competent in his abilities. He couldn’t just walk away and have another employee help them without making Joe angry. And he couldn’t hit Hawk because he would be fired on the spot. Calloway knew this interaction was going to be agonizing.
“I can help you whenever you’re ready,” Calloway said pleasantly.
“Obviously,” Hawk said as he rolled his eyes. “So what’s good here, Poverty Boy #2?”
Calloway ignored his comment. “What can I get for you?”
“Are you deaf?” Hawk snapped. “What’s good here?”
Calloway took a deep breath. “The daily special is the turkey and cheese sandwich. It comes with a chip and drink for five dollars.”
“I’m not poor like you,” Hawk said. “I can order whatever I want.”
Calloway saw Marquan, the worker that he spoke to when he applied for the position, and watched him pour a bag of fresh lettuce in the container next to Calloway. Calloway hoped he would walk away so he wouldn’t hear Hawk harass him. He was already embarrassed as it was. Joe leaned against the counter and watched Calloway help his biggest enemy, oblivious to the anger erupting in volcanic fire inside him.
Calloway played with the hilt of the knife as he waited for Hawk to decide what to order. He imagined stabbing Hawk through the throat but he forced the thought from his mind. Even though Calloway hated his classmate, those fantasies were wrong—no matter how much he enjoyed them.
“I’ll take a number seven,” Ha
wk said.
Calloway was relieved he made a decision. The quicker he made the sandwich the sooner Hawk would be out of the store. “What size?”
“A large.”
“What bread?” Calloway asked.
“White,” Hawk answered.
“Everything on it?” Calloway asked.
“Sure.”
Calloway made the sandwich and was putting the produce on top of the meat when Hawk looked down at the sandwich. “That’s not what I ordered,” he said loudly. “Are you deaf?”
Calloway sighed deeply. He should have expected Hawk to pull something like this. He probably realized that the middle-age man standing behind him was his boss and he wanted to make him look bad—get him fired. “You said you wanted a number seven.”
“No,” Hawk said as he shook his head. “I ordered a number seventeen. What’s wrong with you? You can’t even make a sandwich?”
“I’ll remake it,” Calloway said. He dumped the sandwich in the garbage can and grabbed a new piece of bread and started to make the new sandwich. He placed all the produce on the sandwich and was about to wrap it up when Hawk spoke again.
“I didn’t want everything on it,” Hawk said.
Calloway rolled his eyes then opened the sandwich. “Then what did you want?”
“I don’t want the onions or peppers—I already said that.”
“I apologize,” Calloway said as he picked off the produce.
“How do you have a job?” Hawk sneered. “You’re completely incompetent.”
Calloway felt his hands shake in anger as he cut the sandwich in half. He didn’t deserve to be treated that way. His only crime was trying to protect someone who needed help and now his life was being made into a living nightmare. Perhaps Breccan was right; not everyone was a good person.
“What can I get for you?” Marquan asked as he stood next to Calloway.
Calloway didn’t even notice he was standing there until he spoke. His face was stoic and expressionless, but at the same time he looked angry and intimidating. Hawk became quiet when Marquan addressed him, clearly frightened of the diamond studs in his earlobes and the angry look in his eyes.