Brian went about his morning hanging new pipe fittings on the pegs of the shortened walls, each mounted on a piece of flimsy cardboard and covered in clear plastic. Most of the pieces were made in China he noticed. He wondered if they were full of lead, then thought it was good they were wrapped in the plastic. He had been at work for nearly two hours, hanging these pieces and parts. Taking them from the boxes the receiving department had dropped at the end of his aisle. Plumbing. He wasn’t sure what he knew about plumbing, but knew it was not much. Since he began working here, on the plumbing aisle, three weeks ago, he had managed to tell one customer that they needed a “U-trap” when what they really needed was some plumbers caulk. Another customer left the store with an entire new faucet rather than just a new washer for the leaking one at home. Brian’s friends had always joked with him, telling him: “it’s a good thing you’re cute…” and never finishing the sentence.
Brian knew he had to get all the boxes emptied before too long, it was Saturday, and that meant the store would be busy all day. He had to get the boxes and their contents all put away, but after two hours of looking at pieces and parts, he was ready for a break. It was only 7am, not that many customers at 7am, he wondered if his boss would notice him slipping out back for a quick smoke. After all his bosses had told him to take a break every couple of hours. He looked up and down the aisle, no customers. He dropped the Chrome Plated Supply Line with Rubber Gaskets back down into the box, as he wondered why you would need your supply line chrome plated? For that matter he wasn’t sure what a supply line was.
It wasn’t that Brian wasn’t smart, he could figure things out, but he wasn’t the sharpest knife in the drawer. In high school, he pulled mostly “C’s”, and an occasional “B” in shop. Brian had always been good with his hands and very mechanically inclined. His guidance counselor had told him he’d be good at mechanical work: auto repair or installing air conditioners like his dad, that kind of job. Brian hadn’t minded the counselor saying this, it was the truth and he figured he’d just be doing that kind of work all his life. You know, getting paid to “do”, not to “think”. Nothing wrong with that, he would think to himself, somebody’s got to do it, and there’s a place for all of God’s creatures. He didn’t mind thinking, but he also knew he would never win a Nobel for quantum physics.
Brian’s folks lived in the Valley, in the same house Brian had lived in all his life. His sister was living there now, being two years older than Brian she had already gone to college, graduated and was back living at home until she could find a decent place to live. After Brian graduated from high school, he spent the summer going to the beach and surfing with his friends. He hadn’t had any prospects for a job and couldn’t get accepted at any good colleges. He landed a job at the company his dad worked for, mostly working in the shop. Cleaning the place up, scrubbing the toilets, putting stuff away. It was only a part time job, and the boss hired him more as a favor to Brian’s old man than having a real need for him to work there.
Still Brian appreciated it and did his best to earn his keep, earning enough to give him cigarette and gas money. And the occasional night out with his buddies at the go-cart track. A hobby he started in his sophomore year in high school. He’d gotten pretty good at it, so he entered some cart races. He would race every couple of weeks and usually win. If he didn’t win, he’d get second or third. Enough to get noticed by the fans. Over the course of the year, he had developed a fan club of sorts, mostly high school girls that couldn’t afford to hang out at the malls. Brian was a good-looking guy, good build, personable, so these were all pluses to the fans.
During the time he was working at Morgan’s Air-Conditioning Service, Brian would go on racing tours. Due to his wining streak, he was able to find a sponsor that would pay for his cart expenses. They even provided him the cart. All he needed to pay for was his transportation to and from the races and his meals. One of his buddies had a 2001 Chevy S-10 pickup truck he was selling for $2500. Brian talked him down to two grand, borrowing $1000 from his folks and cleaning out his savings account for the other $1000 he bought it. The truck had 197,653 miles on it and probably wasn’t worth the $2000, but Brian figured he would be able to fix anything that went wrong on it, so he could probably get another 50 or 60,000 miles out of it.
Brian did ok on the circuit for the first year, winning 10 out of 25 races, enough to keep his sponsor interested and paying the bills. Towards the end of the season, the sponsor wanted to change the steering mechanism, there was a new, untried, system that had just come out and they wanted to put it on Brian’s cart. Brian figured they were getting big bucks for trying out the mechanism, but didn’t like the idea of changing the cart so close to the end of the season. He spoke to his sponsor George about it, a wealthy dot commer who had only gotten into the sport because his 10-year-old son liked to race. Brian told him how the new mechanism makes the left wheel toe-in and would affect the speed and handling. George had already taken the check from the mechanism’s manufacturer, so the deal was done.
Brian raced the final four races of the season with the new mechanism and lost each race, nearly crashing on the second to last race. He didn’t just lose, he lost big, coming in at or near last during each race. George was not happy, and blamed Brian, not the mechanism. The following season George had a new driver and had relegated Brian to giving his 10 year old son lessons. Brian didn’t say anything, he went about teaching the kid how to be a race cart driver, the kid was less than an ideal pupil. Often missing lessons, not paying attention, and when he didn’t get what he wanted would threaten Brian with his job. Telling his father that Brian was the one who wouldn’t show up or that Brian was the one that was screwing up. After almost a year of the child’s tantrums and threats and with Brian’s paychecks going from paltry to non-existent, Brian quit.
He hadn’t really thought about what to do, he’d played around with the idea of going to the local junior college to learn a trade. He’d moved out from his folks place during the first season of racing and now was faced with not being able to pay his rent. He had been looking for jobs, but there was nothing available. Now at 21, he was facing a bleak future. He had put all his efforts into trusting George only to find that he had been left out of the race.
It was just by chance that he went to the hardware supply store, he hadn’t even known it existed until one day he was driving from the junior college to meet a friend for lunch. He had been needing to get a toilet plunger, so he decided to stop in on his way to lunch. He saw the sign in the door advertising help wanted. He wandered around the store eventually finding the plumbing section and the toilet plungers. He picked the cheapest one and made his way to the bank of registers. As he was paying for the plunger, he asked about the sign in the window. The clerk called the manager for a job application. The manager brought the application and handed it to Brian, as he noticed the plunger. He asked Brian if he knew anything about plumbing, Brian said no, but that he was a quick learner and could pick it up.
The store manager got called away, but before leaving he asked Brian to fill out the application then and there and that he would be back in a minute. 20 minutes later, the manager returned, Brian had been patently waiting. The manager looked over Brian’s application and asked when he could start. Brian said whenever, he was out of work and rent was due, so the sooner the better. Ten minutes later Brian was calling his friend saying that he wouldn’t be able to make it for lunch. He worked until closing that day, a full eight hour shift. Most of the day was spent trailing the manager around the store, getting familiar with where everything was. Luis, the manager, had given Brian four days a week for the first two weeks, 8 hours a day. Brian had explained the situation with his landlord and fortunately, the landlord had agreed to let him be late with the rent.
This, his third week, he had gotten his paycheck when he came into work, it was just enough to cover his rent for the month. He would call mom when he got off work and see if she could front him some cash for groceries until his next pay check two weeks from now. Brian had gotten a grant to help pay for the tuition at the JC, but it didn’t come for another couple of weeks. In the meantime, he was borrowing the course books from the library and from other students in the classes.
The work was ok, and while he wasn’t a plumber, he was picking it up. When he first started he hadn’t know the difference between a “O” ring and waste ring. Now he did, the “O” ring is a rubber gasket that fits on the valve stem of a faucet while the waste ring is the waxy seal that goes between the toilet and the floor to prevent leaking, and worse, odors from the toilet. His supervisor, Ernest, was pretty good at teaching Brian the different parts. Ernest was a big black man, standing about 6’4’, compared to Brian’s 5’8” frame, and was about 280 pounds. Ernest wasn’t fat, just big. Big boned as Brian’s mom would say. He was a nice enough guy, kind of quiet, gentle as a lamb.
The older white ladies and men too, would come in, look at Ernest and then at Brian, they would inevitably go to Brian to ask their questions. Intimidated by Ernest’s color and bulk. Brian would, in turn seek Ernest’s counsel. Ernest was a good guy, putting his kids through school and trying to keep food on the table for his family. Brian had grown to like him during the past couple of weeks. Brian was to the point in his plumbing education that Ernest would give him the “phone” when Ernest took his breaks and lunch. The phone was the wireless walkie-talkie/phone that each department had so that when someone had a question or there was a phone call from a customer, it could be transferred to the “phone” in the respective department.
Brian had gotten pretty good at answering the calls, and if he didn’t know the answer to the question, he knew where to go get it. Despite his poor grades in high school, Brian was intuitive and could figure things out. Usually on his feet, he would think the problem through and come up with the right solution, even if he hadn’t learned it through a book. This quality was what made him good at cart racing, he would be presented with a situation and react, and 9 times out of 10, the reaction was the right one. Swerve left to avoid the cart in front, anticipating the other driver was going to pull right because of the course… this made him quick in his responses. The combination had served him well through high school and the subsequent years. Now it was serving him well as the newest member of Armstrong Supply and Hardware, a chain of old fashioned hardware stores that had managed to compete with Home Depot and the other mega stores.
Ernest was off today, the rare Saturday off for him, his kid had a softball game and Ernest told Luis that Brian would be fine on his own. A fact that Brian was not too sure of, but agreed so that Ernest could be like a regular father and spend a Saturday with his kid. Ernest said he owed one to Brian, who said not to worry about it.
Brian moved the empty boxes from stocking his shelves to the loading dock, he called Luis and asked to go on break, Luis agreed and said he would cover and to get the phone to him. Brian found him at the loading dock, handed him the phone and said he’d be back in fifteen minutes. Brian walked out to his truck in the employee parking area, unlocked it and grabbed his cigarettes from the center console. He closed the door and walked to the back of the truck, he lowered the tailgate, and sat down. Lighting a cigarette, he laid back and looked up at the back of the store and up to the clear blue sky through the tangle of electric wires feeding store and the surrounding businesses.
To be continued…
© 3/01/10
Jaunty-Rabbit 