Finding Talent (1)

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine:

"Hello, miss," the guy at the rodeo office says, "can I help you?" he shifts a few things around on his desk, and looks up.

"Uh, yeah. I have some entry forms," I hand the thick folder over to him, "entry fees are included in a cheque." he takes it from me and weighs it in his hand.

"This feels mighty heavy! How many events did you register in?" he asks me, and sets it down on his desk. I mentally count in my head... 2 cutting competitions, 5 halter, 2 western pleasure, 2 trail, 1 reigning...

"12," I answer, "I'm registered in 12 events."

"You sound like a busy girl! Well, good luck!" he says, and puts the folder on a stack with some others.

"Ok, thank you sir!" I leave the office, and head back to my truck. If I don't hurry, I'm going to be late for work. I head down the open Alberta highway, until I pull into a small road off to the right. At the end of the road is a sign that says "Livestock Feed: 20 meters". So I drive for 20 more meters, until I get to the feed store. Crap. I'm 15 minutes late.

"Sadie Lawrence ! This is the third time this month you have been late! If you come in late one more time, I'm docking your pay! Twice, and your fired!" Mr. Jones's voice yells at me, from inside while I jump behind the counter, and onto a swivel chair. He's in the stock room, counting bags of feed most likely... one of my jobs.

"You do that!" I yell back, then mutter "take a chill-pill." to myself. I know Mr. Jones won't fire me. I'm the only one in town who bothers to put up with his attitude. I'm convinced he's bipolar, and he'd have a heck of a time finding someone else to take my position if I quit or he fired me. He storms out, jumps in his truck, and zooms off. So. First order of business is turn on the OPEN sign.

Then, I go into the stock room an finish counting feed "6 bags of beet pulp, 10 bags of Pro-Form 4 Complete Feed, 6 of Foal Starter, 16 bags of pony-nuts, 11 bags of Pro-Form Senior Horse, 8 buckets of minerals..." the list goes on. We are low on a bunch of feed, so I'll have to put in some orders today.

"Excuse me?" I turn around to see an old lady standing by the counter. She's looking around the place like she's lost. Maybe she is. She looks like one of those old people who has amnesia, and forgets everything. My grandma had amnesia. She died a while ago, but for five years she thought my name was Shirley. One night I overheard my mom and dad saying that the Shirley she kept referring to, was a stripper that lived in a crack house. Ever since then, I stayed as far away from grandma as possible.

"Hello!" I say as pleasantly as possible, "can I help you?" I walk out of the stock room, over to the desk, and turn on the cash-thingamajig.

"Yes you could. Do you have any bags of almonds?" she asks. Yep. Amnesia.

"Does it LOOK like we'd have almonds?" I ask raising my eyebrows. Like, can you really no see the bags of feed EVERYWHERE????

"Yes! This place is filled with bags of food. Walnuts, Cashews, and most likely dried apricots!" She argues. My conclusion: This lady needs to see an eye doctor.

"Nope, sorry," I shake my head "if your looking for nuts, we got pony nuts, but no peanuts."

"Your sign says Living Food! That sounds like a place that sells almonds." she says, looking around a little more.

"No.... our sign says Livestock Feed. There's a organic grocery store further down the road which may better meet your expectations."

Finally, se leaves muttering, "No apricots, dried apples or walnuts. What is this place?"

I sigh in relief as she drives away. I go back into the stock-room and grab three bags if complete, and bring them into the actual store, and put them on a shelf. Then I bring out the rest of the feed until the stock room is pretty much empty. Now, I need to put in some orders. I turn on the radio, and since Mr. Jones only has one station, I'm stuck listening to something that sounds robotic and steely. Yech. The music come people write.

After a few painful minutes, my ears are refreshed with the soothing sound of "Summer of '69" by Bryan Adams. It's my favourite song, and I can't help it. Soon I am singing along, as loud as I can. Who cares? It's not like anyone ever comes here...well, besides from the old lady with amnesia.

"I GOT MY FIRST REAL SIX STRING,

DOWN AT THE FIVE AND DINE,

PLAYED UNTIL MY FINGERS BLED,

IT WAD THE SUMMER OF '69!

ME AND SOME GUYS FROM SCHOOL,

WE HAD A BAND AND WE TRIED REAL HARD,

THEN JIMMY QUIT,

JODY GOT MARRIED,

SHOULD HAVE KNOW THAT WE'D NEVER GET FAR!"

This is the fun part if my job. Since this feed store is so remote, we probably get about one visitor a week, I can sing at the top of my lungs if I feel like it.

Or so I think.

"Hello? Sorry, don't mean to interrupt your, ah, concert or anything, but I need to get some feed." I look up, blushing. A young guy, my age probably, is standing by a stack of bags full of complete feed.

"What? Oh no, I'm just... yeah... can I help you?" I ask mortified and embarrassed. I have a terrible voice. This is another reason I am in love with horses. I can sing to them as loud as I can, and even though I can tell they don't like my voice, they can't protest against it.

"You could actually... do you have any salt blocks?" he asks.

"Um..." scanning room, scanning room, scanning room... aha! Salt blocks! "yep! Just over there, underneath the window." I point to where the brown blocks of salt are piled up in a large stack underneath a large window.

"Thanks!" he grabs three, and brings them over to me. I blush, still embarrassed as I swipe his card, and he pays.

"Here you go," I hand him back his card and the salt blocks, "have a nice day!" He leaves the store, but then jumps back in, and says,

"Nice voice by the way!"

AN: So, tried to turn on my humour switch. I epically failed. This was a filler chapter. 0 Percent exciting. Any-who, let me know what you think! Vote, fan, comment. Thanks to xMagical, you are still the only one reading this. I really appreciate you lasting support!

-Bella:)