Amateur Hour

Franklin

Dispirited, tired to the bone, and hot (he was always hot, and thirsty), Franklin dragged his way back to the shack, from work. He hadn’t gotten the new job. He’d been bitterly frustrated, when the word came down, through his supervisor, this morning. For the first two hours, of his shift, he had spaded gravel, like a fiend, to cope with this frustration.

Each spadeful had clattered into the cultivated cactus bed, sounding to his ears like: why, why, why. He’d wracked his brains, trying to figure it out. What had he done, or not done, that had disqualified him?

His mind had kept returning to the bat incident, and had kept rejecting that, as the cause. He hadn’t been docked for it, nor had Dale (to Franklin’s relief). No one had mentioned it, since, but he knew word had gotten around. Even his supervisor had taken to calling him Batman, with a smirk of amusement.

Franklin stopped plodding through the dust, long enough to down the last couple of mouthfuls, in his canteen. A shadow passed overhead, and he looked up to see a trio of buzzards, circling. They weren’t circling him, of course, but that didn’t keep him from yelling: “Not yet, you filthy bastards!” at the top of his lungs. His shout drew the attention of a few fellow plodders, and patrons in line, at the roach coaches, which were spaced, intermittently along the main road.

For an instant, he regretted his loss of control. He had been trying to civilize his speech, in order to make better impressions, for a while. Now, he was about half past give a fuck. He was going to rot, here, and the buzzards would have the last laugh.

He was surprised to see Dale, when he opened the door. Usually, the other boy came in later. Yet, there he was, standing in front of the bunks, with the air of someone who had been impatiently waiting.

“You didn’t get the job,” Dale said.

“How did you know?”

“Because you got a delivery, instead. We both did.” Dale stepped to one side, to reveal two large boxes, stacked one atop the other, on his bunk.

“We…”

“We’re going to the City, bro!” Dale exclaimed, with an ear to ear grin. He let out a whoop, and clapped Franklin, on the shoulder.

“You’re sure? You didn’t open yours?”

“Hell, no, man! I’ve been waiting, on you,” he laughed. “I’m sure. I rode home, with the guy who delivers them. He stopped into the caf, for a to-go iced tea, and said he’d take anyone, who was heading this way, since it was on his route. He told me, on the way, what he was delivering, to someone. I almost fell off the porch, when he got out of the truck, and carried the boxes up! Yours is the one, on top.”

Franklin stepped forward, slowly, then seized the top box, and carried it to the table. It was a small table, but there was just enough room for both cartons, and Dale joined him.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” he demanded, tearing at the tape.

“I don’t know what to say. I thought… Walking home, I thought I was going to rot here.”

“Not us, bro. We’re going to where there are books that aren’t held together with tape, decent food, clean clothes, and girls!”

“What’s a girl, Dale?” Franklin asked, recovering his sense of humor, while he ripped back the flaps of the box, in front of him.

“You’ll like ‘em, trust me.”

As it happened, the first item in the box, was a clean, intact book — a student handbook.

“Finally, the game has written rules,” Franklin observed riffling the pages.

“They even got my sizes right.” Dale was peering at the tags of his shirt collars, one after the other. There were five of them, white, with short sleeves. The three pairs of trousers under the shirts, were dark blue. He carried these, to his bunk, and placed them there.

Franklin’s shirts and trousers, likewise, were the correct sizes. When it came to the ties, however, both boys were mystified. Dale’s were dark blue, with a diagonal black stripe pattern. Franklin’s ties had a yellow stripe.

The difference made Franklin uneasy. When it came to uniforms, everything meant something. He and Dale were both Seniors, in high school. They had progressed together, through the system, here — hell, they’d even arrived on the same bus. If anything, Franklin had more ‘social’ credit than Dale, though the other boy had earned a bit more, in work credit.

“I’m sure it doesn’t mean much of anything, man,” Dale said, reading his friend’s facial expression. Franklin could see that he was concerned, too.

“I hope it doesn’t mean they’re splitting us up. You’re a total twatwaffle, but I’ve gotten used to you.”

“You’re my favorite fucknut, too. Maybe there’s something in the book, about the ties. There is a God, though — they sent us brand new socks and underwear. No blazers, with the uniform?”

“Dude, we’re in the middle of the desert. Do you really need a blazer?”

As if his own words reminded him, Franklin walked to the refrigerator, pulled out a two bottles of water, and tossed one to Dale. He chugged half of his own, in one go, and released a tremendous belch.

“Dear Student,” Dale read, from the single sheet of paper, at the bottom of his box.

“That’s not a form letter,” Franklin snarked.

“Congratulations! Your hard work, exemplary conduct, and adjusted social scores have secured your privilege to enter the City, where you will resume your education. You will begin on Monday, June 28, at 9 a.m. In the meantime, you should:

“1. Study the handbook provided, and become familiar with the rules and expectations of the City and Saguaro Springs Academy — ”

“What do you know — ” Dale interrupted himself. “This place does have a name.” He continued:

“2. Launder, press, and starch your new uniforms. Instructions are included in the handbook. Uniforms are to be placed on the appropriate hangers, and will be transported, for you.

“3. Purchase appropriate shoes, at the School Clothing and Supply store, and obtain all the classroom supplies listed on page 10, in your handbook.

“4. Dispose of all nonessential items, that you will not be bringing with you. If it cannot fit into the box your uniforms arrived in, you cannot take it.

“5. Clean your cabin. It should be left, precisely as you found it, when you moved in. On the day of your departure, leave your bed linens and towels on the front porch, for collection.

“Thank you, for your cooperation, and once more, Congratulations!”

“I sure hope those shoes aren’t expensive.”

“Well, let’s go and see.”

“It’s a hell of a long walk, Dale.”

“We’ll hitch a ride, on an inbound food delivery truck. Those guys are cool, and they know me.”

“The coyotes will get our dinner, off the porch.”

“Maybe. But, we can pick something up, at one of the roach coaches.”

“Let’s wait until morning. I’ve had it, for the day.”

“Okay. It’s not like we have to go to work. I think I must have had the same look, on my face, as you, when I got home. They fired me,” Dale grinned. “Now, I know why.”

“My supervisor felt so bad, for me, over not getting that new job, he told me to take tomorrow, off. I should have known something was up. Wanna get an ice, after dinner, to celebrate?”

“Think we can afford one?”

“My treat. You got them, last time.” He expected Dale might object, due to the difference in their ‘finances’, but he didn’t. Franklin was glad. In his own way, Dale had class.

***

Guy

“Geez, vato! Where have you been?” Steph demanded, when she picked up the phone. “I’ve called, and called —”

“Sorry. I forgot to take my phone off airplane mode.”

“Shit for brains,” she laughed, sounding relieved. “You can ignore the ten messages I left you, then.”

“Not for cash money. I’m sure each one is a bigger treat, than the last.” He muffled his own laughter, anticipating the recorded versions of Steve, gradually losing her cool, in voicemail.

“You’ve landed, then.” He could hear her, pulling her injured dignity around her.

“Landed, checked into the motel, and unpacked a couple of things. I’m waiting for Ted’s courier, to deliver my ID package. Hope he gets here, soon. The interview is tomorrow, and I’d like to get everything memorized. How are you and Galen?”

“I’m fine. He’s been kind of jazzed, about your mission. Had a dozen questions, at breakfast, and another dozen, at lunch. If he wasn’t a fan, before, he is, now. You might as well be an astronaut.”

“I suppose he’s out, playing?”

“Sorry. I’m afraid he is.”

“Nah. That’s the way it should be. Did Kayla ever make it back?”

“She’s dead asleep, upstairs. To be fair, Ted says she was a big help.”

“So, you’re talking again, you and Ted. He was very sorry, that he’d upset you.”

“I don’t think he meant to push my buttons, and I was tired. We’re sort of okay, now.”

“Did you get any sleep, at all?”

“I’m going to bed, right after dinner. I think Galen can keep Kayla from burning the house down.”

So, no, she hadn’t. She’d looked about ready to keel over, this morning, when she’d seen him off.

“He knows where the extinguishers are. I quizzed him. Hold on, a minute. Someone’s at the door.” Guy set the phone down, on the nightstand, and went to answer the knock. Sure enough, it was the courier. He signed for the package, bade the courier a good evening, and closed the door.

“I’m back,” he resumed.

“Your package?”

“Yeah.” He opened the envelope, and pulled the contents out. “The badge looks great. Wanna see?”

“Sure.”

Guy took a picture of it, and texted it to her. He also took one of the diploma, and sent it.

“That’s not bad. I can’t tell it’s been altered. Kayla claimed one of her side hustles, in junior high was faking ID’s. I believe her, now. The diploma looks legit, too.”

“She does take pride, in her work, I’ll give her that,” Guy said. He laughed. “I bet that’s Gordon’s original frame, too.”

“Probably. So, how’s Tucson?”

“Dry. Hot. As little like the southeast, as you could imagine. The moisture seems to evaporate, right out of your nose and mouth. I’ve been chewing gum, like a mad bastard. There’s even a flipping humidifier, in the room.”

“Check the filter, for mold.”

“Already did. You think I haven’t learned anything? I’ve also been out, to buy water and other drinks from the store, so I won’t pay motel prices.”

“Isn’t Ted paying?”

“Yeah, but there’s no need to gouge the guy. I’m letting him pick up the tab for room service, tonight.”

“Fair enough. Sounds like a decent place.”

“It’s not home, but it’s not miserable.”

“I suppose I should let you go. It’s about time to put dinner on.”

She sounded a little sad.

“What are you having?”

“Just a casserole. I’m not exactly Betty Crocker.”

“Betty Crocker isn’t Betty Crocker. She’s made up. You’re real.”

“All the same, the recipe is from her book.”

“Steve! Tell me you didn’t buy a cookbook! I don’t know whether to laugh, or cry.”

“Very funny, vato.”

She was smiling, a little, though. He could hear it, in her voice.

“Throw it away, or the next thing you know, you’ll be knitting,” he advised.

“Never!” she laughed.

“It’s a slippery slope. But, I’ll let you go, for now. Talk to you, in the morning. Love you.”

“Love you. Bye.”

*******

His first impression of the school, was that it was like any other school. To be sure, it was isolated, and seemed to be in the midst of its own little town, but the chain link fence around it was only six feet, in height, and he could see students, everywhere, in the small simulated oases, on the outside of the building.

The kids mixed, they chattered, they wandered from place to place, in groups and pairs, with no apparent separation of the sexes. The normalcy, after New Canaan, was mind blowing.

On the other side of the doors, he was greeted only by a couple of receptionists. There were no guards, and no scanners. He gave his name as ‘Miguel Ramirez’, took a seat, in the lobby, and waited to be called back. The lobby was decorated in southwest themes and a variety of small cacti and other succulents.

He wasn’t kept waiting long. The Dean, herself, came out to meet him, shake his hand, and lead him back to her office. It was more modern, than Starkey’s office had been; an exterior room, with a wide window that looked out on an expanse of barren land, broken only by the fence; the sole sign of human habitation. It made him think of a dwelling, on Mars.

“You come very highly recommended, Mr. Ramirez, not only by the Deans of New Canaan, but by Mr. Billie, himself. I have to admit, I don’t quite know what to make of these recommendations. Mr. Billie hasn’t been the owner of Ridgeview’s holdings for very long, and the Mileses are very new Deans, as well.”

“Mr. Billie, aside from being the son of Gordon Eldridge, was also a teacher, at New Canaan, for several years. I believe his familiarity with the school makes him an adequate judge of whom to place in the position of Dean, Dr. Hermann.”

“And, by the way, he signs your paycheck, now,” Guy thought.

“To be sure. I was unaware of his previous position, as an instructor. Thank you, for that clarification.”

“My pleasure,” Guy replied, with a smile. It wasn’t time to pull out the murderous grin, just yet. “My own time, there, as you can see, was brief,” he admitted. “I’m here, because I lacked seniority, over another, very qualified language instructor.”

“Yes… You’ve devoted quite some time, to learning to teach your native language.”

Guy smiled, again. What an adversarial broad. “As does many an English teacher, ma’am.” He paused, to allow the irony to sink in. “However, Spanish is not my native language. I grew up, speaking English. My parents, of course, are native Spanish speakers, so you’ll find my accent to be flawless, but they insisted that only English was to be spoken, in our home.”

Careful. Remember the debacle, with Janice.

He had serious doubts about this woman’s discernment, but it would be better, not to say too much. He’d been up, until midnight, reading Nathaniel Hawthorne, aloud, to scrub his speech of any trace of a Latino accent. He thought he was selling it, so far.

“You have impressive credentials, though your experience in the private education milieu isn’t all I could personally hope for. But, our system of education is based on hard work and merit, and it would be impolitic, in any case, not to give you a chance. Mr. Billie is an unknown quantity, to me, but if he wants you here, specifically…”

“I assure you, you’ll have no regrets, Dr. Hermann.”

Until he lowers the boom, on your reptilian ass.

“Have you any questions, for me, before we proceed with a tour, Mr. Ramirez?”

“No questions, but an observation, if you’ll entertain it.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes. New Canaan is a high security school. I couldn’t help but notice that the same protocols are not observed here. We are dealing with the same type of students, are we not?”

“We are, and we aren’t. The student transfers from New Canaan, and elsewhere, are the same type of students, when they arrive. By the time they have worked their way onto the main campus they are… altered, in their attitudes and behaviors. You’ll understand this, when you’ve been here, a while. As for security —” She smiled. “The desert is our security, against both intruders and would be runaways. I’m pleased to say that we’ve never lost a student. By the time they enter classes, here, they are well aware of their surroundings.”