by
Mark 'Ponyboy' Peters
Chapter Eight
I arrived home to an empty house but wishing that someone had been there to at least talk to. Even if it had been my father, even that would have been okay, just so long as I wasn't alone to wallow in my self-pity. I needed a distraction, pure and simple, so that in my mind I wasn't stuck going over the events of the day again and again and again. Was that too much to ask?
I poured myself a soft drink from the refrigerator and sat at the kitchen table, then moments later my prayers were answered when I saw my mother's car pull up outside the kitchen window. Olly jumped out and came inside, dropping his school bag inside the back door and heading straight for the cupboard where the snacks are kept. Then mum soon followed.
'Hi, honey. How was your day?' she asked.
I just looked at her. I didn't need to say anything. She could see it in my face.
In an instant she dropped her purse on the table and came to me, wrapping her arms around me and holding me close. Olly looked at the two of us as if we had totally lost the plot, before shrugging his shoulders and thumping down the hallway to his room.
'You want to tell me about it?' my mother asked.
'I had words with one of the guys that I was with Friday night,' I offered. Up until this point I had said nothing about what had actually taken place to anyone, and if possible I intended to keep it that way. 'Some boofhead footballer who saw us there on Friday heard us arguing, then put two and two together. Then later on he confronted me when I was alone.'
'Oh, dear. Did anything happen?'
'No. It was almost closing time. I got past him and signed off, then got the hell out. But it left me shaking. I don't . . . I don't know what to do,' I said, by now almost in tears. Geez I really was turning into a wuss.
'Ssshhh. Don't let it get to you. I think you need to talk to someone . . . I'm going to give Bryan a call, okay?'
'But . . . what about dad?'
'Screw your father. It's you that needs some help, and besides, what he doesn't know about he can't worry about. Just leave it with me.'
I retreated to my room after that, taking some quiet time to read a few stories on my phone from the Nifty archives website, disturbed only by my brother paying me a visit and snuggling up beside me on my bed. I put the phone down, not wanting him to read any of that or see any of the images on there - not that there were many.
'What's up, bud?' I asked him.
He looked up at me, with concern etched into his face.
'Are you okay?' he asked. 'I think you've been sad lately.'
What could I tell him? Certainly not the whole truth, that's for sure.
'I'm okay, mate. Just sad that I have to work all the time, instead of being able to goof off all day like you do.'
'I don't goof off!' he proclaimed.
'Yeah, you do!' I teased.
'Well, maybe sometimes.'
'See!' I exclaimed, then proceeded to tickle him. Like any ten-year-old, he hated to be tickled, so he was soon on his feet and running for the door, laughing. I knew how to handle my kid brother.
That night was a quiet affair with little being said in the house, so after dinner I headed for my bedroom and jumped online, wanting to try and find some articles or information about dealing with a few issues, like coming out and how to handle workplace harassment. I figured it wouldn't hurt to learn from other people's experiences and was soon rewarded with some information that I found useful. With that accomplished I put a DVD on and lay back on my bed to try and enjoy it, but after the events of today I was finding it difficult to concentrate, so it wasn't long before I switched that off, stripped for bed and then turned in.
* * * * *
The following day was Thursday and it was back to work again for me. As I drove to work I was feeling anxious about what the day might bring given what had happened yesterday afternoon, so I wasn't exactly in the right frame of mind when a motorbike suddenly whizzed past me just as I was entering the car park, forcing me to hit the brakes. As I got going again I saw the bike speed through the lane ahead of me and zoom up the ramp to the upper level parking area, which was where I was also going.
The rider pulled the bike up onto the back wheel as he sped up the ramp, becoming momentarily airborne when he reached the top, before landing safely and expertly wheeling into a parking space. Whoever it was he could obviously handle a bike, but I couldn't help but think that he was showing off.
By the time I pointed the nose of my car into a parking space the rider had unbuckled his helmet and pulled it from his head, letting his longish, strawberry-blonde hair fall back into place, before running his hands back through it and then patting it down. It was Rafael de Silva and in the morning sunlight I had to admit that he looked hot, even if he was a bit of a lair as my father would often say.
I watched him for a few moments as he walked away, admiring how his tight trousers accentuated the shape of his arse, before snapping out of my little trance and switching off the ignition, then getting out and locking my car. I followed him at a distance over to the elevator and stairs which led down into the arcade and the entrance to our store, and by the time I made it inside he was nowhere to be seen. What I did see, however, were the odd expressions on the faces of my co-workers as I made my way toward the offices at the rear of the store to sign in.
Apparently, the news was out.
I tried my best to ignore the stares and made my way out to the stock room. Once again there was no sign of Mike, but the bell at the loading bay was being rung, so I flicked the switch to raise the roller door and found a courier waiting there with a delivery.
'Mike running late today?' the driver asked. 'I've been waiting ten minutes.'
'Sorry, not sure where he is and I've only just signed on,' I replied. 'What do you have for us?'
I knew what needed to be done so I grabbed a trolley and started loading it up as the driver passed up the cartons of stock. After checking all the cartons were there I signed off on the delivery docket and said goodbye to him, just as another truck was arriving. It looked like I was going to have a busy start to the day.
Once the second truck had left I closed the roller door and parked the trolleys ready for delivery onto the shop floor, just as the Personnel Manager, Julie Mack, came through the doors.
'Oh, Grayson, just the person I was after,' she said. 'Can we have a chat?'
My first reaction was to wonder what I had done wrong.
'Errr . . . yeah, sure,' I replied, curious as to what she what might want, but also feeling some trepidation.
I followed her back out onto the shop floor and back past the cafe to the entrance to the corridor where the main offices were located and before long we were sitting in her office with the door closed. I looked about the office, where rosters and posters and various notices were pinned to a noticeboard. There were folders filled with papers sitting on shelves behind the desk, while filing cabinets lined one wall. There were no photos or awards or certificates anywhere, and everything seemed to be coloured in various shades of beige, other than a bright green fern that sat upon a timber cabinet.
I looked at her expectantly. Was I in some sort of trouble?
'So,' Julie began. 'As you're aware, Mike called in sick yesterday afternoon. And he won't be here today or tomorrow either, so do you think you will be able to look after the stockroom for a couple of days?'
'Yeah, I think I should be able to manage,' I answered.
'Good. I've asked Chris Hopwood if he can come in to help out also.'
'Okay. Thank you,' I replied.
For a few moments she sat looking at her hands, which she was holding together in front of her, looking as if she was trying to decide on saying something further.
'Gray, I don't want to pry into your personal life. In fact, I'm not even permitted to do that . . . but I've been told that you and Mike had some sort of confrontation yesterday. Is that correct?'
Suddenly my mind was racing once more.
'Y-yes, we did. We had a disagreement over . . .'
'You don't need to tell me about that,' she said, holding up her hand for me to stop. 'I assume it was a personal issue?'
'Y-yeah . . . something like that.'
'I see. And about something that happened outside of work hours?'
'Yes,' I answered.
'Okay, that's good to know. That's what Mike told me also, so the company doesn't have an issue with that. I also heard, though, that you were confronted by another staff member just before closing yesterday. Did that person see or hear your discussion with Mike?'
'Y-yes,' I answered, while suddenly needing to wipe away a tear that I could feel rolling down my cheek.
Julie picked up a box of tissues and held it out for me. I took a couple from the box and wiped my eyes with them, then sat staring at my hands in my lap; embarrassed and feeling like a total loser. Man, if my father saw me now I'm sure I would be disowned.
'We have policies about harassment in the workplace, Gray, so if that happens again you can be assured we will be taking some action, okay? It just needs to be reported, so if you have any problems like that again, just let someone know, okay?'
I nodded.
'Now, prior to yesterday, Mike told me you've been doing a good job helping him out. In fact, he even suggested that we consider putting you on full-time as a trainee. Would you be interested in that if a position arose?'
Wow. That was a twist I hadn't unexpected.
'Well, I hadn't really thought about anything like that,' I answered honestly.
'You've finished school, correct? Were you planning on further studies, or were you considering looking for work?'
'I was thinking of taking a year off, from study at least, then just see what happens, whether that means going to uni or tech college afterwards, or maybe just looking for a full-time job then. I was hoping that I'd still have my job here to see me through the year unless . . . unless something else happens.'
'Well, your job here is safe, and as I said, there may be a possibility of a traineeship if you are interested, so please give that some thought.'
'Thank you. I will.'
She got up from her chair and started for the door, so I did the same. Apparently, the meeting was over. Before opening the door, however, Julie stopped and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder.
'In the meantime, just try to ignore anything you may hear out there, okay?' she said. 'I've already heard what some folks have said and I know people can be mean, but they'll soon forget about you once they have something else to talk about. Your life outside of this workplace is nothing to do with anyone. And if you ever need to talk, my door, and Mr Webster's door, are always open for you.'
'Thank you very much,' I said, then with a nod I left her office.
When I returned to the stockroom, the buzzer by the roller door was going off again, and by the looks of it there had also been another courier delivery during the time I had been with Julie, which I would need to double-check before it went out to the relevant department.
I flicked the switch to raise the roller door once more, ready to get straight back into it, just as Hoppy arrived.
* * * * *
It proved to be quite a busy day and I was certainly grateful for Hoppy being there to help out. I saw Tom Goodwin a few times, each time either going to or leaving the invoice office, and each time he made a point of leering at me. One time he even blew a kiss in my direction, which didn't go unnoticed by Hoppy.
'What the fuck is his problem?' he asked.
'Long story,' I replied.
'I have all day!'
I stood and looked at him, unsure if I should tempt fate and spill the beans or just let him learn from the scuttlebutt that was bound to be already circulating. In the end I figured it would be best if he heard it directly from me, especially given our recent interactions. Bit by bit throughout the morning, and in hushed tones, I began bringing him up to speed on what had occurred, including my spending Friday night with Mike and Animal, and right up to my meeting with Mrs Mack in her office this morning. I couldn’t share absolutely everything with him, but he got the basics.
'Holy shit!' he exclaimed. 'It's all been happening!'
'You could say that,' I answered.
'So, is that why Mike has called in sick?'
'No idea really, but it certainly wouldn't surprise me.'
'And what about Friday night? Were you okay after that? Were you . . . ummm . . . hurt at all? Did they treat you right?'
I looked at him for what seemed like a long time, but just as I was about to answer the buzzer went off again, so we had another delivery to attend to.
Afterwards I said, 'Let's just say that it wasn't pretty. I know I'm new to this whole scene, but it wasn't exactly the introduction to this world that I had hoped for.'
'Mate, I can't even begin to imagine what that would have been like for you.'
To be continued . . .
Authors Note:
Hi there. It has been a while since I have posted anything new on Nifty. I guess life gets in the way sometimes.
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