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Daily Field Journal of A
I had to work at noon on Tuesday and I got there at exactly 11:59. I figured if I had to get right on “the floor,” as everyone called it, Mr. Ryan wouldn’t have time to yell at me. I was wrong.“Jake.”His voice sounded just like Coach’s when he’s fed up over the team’s lack of effort.“Hey,” I said, turning around. He stood in the doorway to the back room, holding the door open with his foot. I tried to look him in the eye, but he was seriously pissed, and I ended up looking at the blinking smoke alarm over his head.“May I see you a moment, please?”He was talking without totally opening his mouth. Something else Coach did.“Uh.” I looked over my shoulder for an out. “Don’t you need me to—”“Now.”I swallowed. “Okay.”As I walked past him into the back room, I ducked my head away from him. My palms were sweating, so I wiped them on my shorts. He let the door slam, which was something he told all of us never to do. Something about startling already caffeine-jittery customers.“Have a seat.”I sat in the metal chair next to his desk, which creaked and leaned sideways. My stomach swooped and I pressed my toes firmly into the tile floor to keep from going over. On his desk was an open notebook with equations scribbled all over it, and a study guide with the words “Securities Training Corporation” across the top.“I’m not even going to ask for an explanation,” he began. He stood in front of me with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes skimmed the cuts on my knuckles, and I stuffed my hands under my arms. “Because there is no explanation for what you did. Leaving here in the middle of your shift is unacceptable, do you understand me?”I nodded. “Yes, sir.”“Because of what you did, Keisha had to work out your shift, which meant she had to call in a sitter to take care of her son last minute,” he continued, not moving a muscle. Unless you counted that scary throbbing vein off the corner of his left eye. “That’s money out of her pocket so that you can act like an irresponsible jerk. Do you think that’s fair, Jake?”I stared at him. Did he really want me to answer?“Do you?”Guess so.“Um, no?”“You don’t sound entirely certain about that,” he said. “So let me make this clear for you. If you intend to continue working here, I need you to be entirely certain about it. So. Was what you did fair to your coworkers?”My face was burning like I’d gone out front and laid it down on the espresso machine. I stared at the emergency exit behind his head.“No,” I said.“No. I didn’t think so.” He turned around and walked toward the far wall, where he’d hung up all these inspirational posters. The one he was standing in front of was red with white letters and said, YOUR WORK REFLECTS ON YOU. TAKE PRIDE IN YOURSELF.“I know you kids hate to hear this, but you’re almost an adult now,” he said quietly. He looked half over his shoulder at me. “So you really need to ask yourself one question. Is this the person you really want to be?”I’ve had stingers in my calf before, and they kill. They just knock me over right where I’m ru
Daily Field Journal of A