You'll Just Know

Chapter 20

            The relationship between Emily and I changed almost imperceptibly after Homecoming. Emily’s sudden elevation to “Social Queen” status had served only to accentuate the social rift that had always separated us. Not only that, but the outburst over the missing corsage had put a crack in the fragile illusion of happiness I had been struggling to maintain.

            For all I knew, Emily might not have even noticed these things, but I found them increasingly difficult to ignore. We had stopped trying to find a common ground in conversation and spent most of our time in the backseat of her little brown Honda or on my living room couch after my parents had gone to bed…doing things which required very little in the area of meaningful conversation. Although this was a very enjoyable way to avoid facing the problems in our relationship, it did nothing to help the situation.

            Yet, despite our problems, it never seriously crossed my mind to end it. I mean, I was dating the HOMECOMING QUEEN! The world was mine. Strange people whom I’d never met before would smile at me in the hallways at school. Popular people suddenly knew my name and would say “hello” to me as I passed. It was almost like being a minor celebrity. After reading the poem in English class one week, someone started calling me “Mighty Casey” and it caught on. I, of course, did little to discourage it.

            Also, despite Wendy’s assurances, her relationship with Darian left little opportunity for us to see much of each other. Our after school walks became infrequent and shortened. By early December, they had stopped altogether.

            It was around that time that I began to notice that dating someone like Emily was much more expensive than the simple single life I’d lived for so long. The bank account that I’d been steadily building since middle school disappeared with unnerving speed, and I began to realize that soon my weekly five-dollar allowance would be my only asset. This was not good, especially with Christmas coming up and Emily already dropping hints about a gold necklace that she was wanting. So, going completely against my strong lazy instincts, I began to look for a job.

            Mom casually reminded me that Sandra could get me a job where she worked, since she was the assistant manager. I rejected the idea immediately, though. Conflict of interests. Sandra and I got along fairly well now, and I saw no need to push that.

            So, instead, I asked around at all the stores in downtown Devon (except, of course, Cameron Hardware, which I avoided like the plague. The thought of working for Mr. Cameron quite frankly terrified me). A week later I had the prestigious position of dishwasher at The Trolley.

            I worked mostly after school, which was their busiest time of the day. I stayed in the hot, noisy kitchen for hours, keeping a grueling pace. Even in rubber gloves, my hands pruned up horribly and my hair flattened in the steam. Waitresses hurried in and out in constant traffic, and the gristly old cook, Smiley, kept things moving. As far as I could tell, Smiley worked twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The man never tired! (Not only that, the man never stopped smiling! I began to think that it was some sort of birth defect.)

            It was my first real job, and it was backbreaking. My shift lasted for as long as they needed me, which was well past closing time some nights. I rarely spoke to anyone, tucked away in the back corner of the kitchen. The head waitress, a big black woman named Eleanor, just called me “Boy”, even though I had told her my name a hundred times.

            Standing at the sink for hours may sound like a lonely chore, but I enjoyed the solitude. I just kept to myself and did my work. It gave me time to think. Washing dishes, although dirty and tiring, was a no-brainer, and often I could just let my mind wander as the hours passed.