Unemployment, joyous and free as it was, could only go on for so long. Eventually, Mae had to succumb to the realities of life and find herself a paycheck by means of labor. But she was off to a rough start. Working for a place like Taco Buck meant free tacos forever, or so she hoped. But despite hiring Danny, Mae's resume apparently wasn't nearly good enough for them. Ditto the Clik Clak, which at least let her get as far as an interview. Unlike everything movies and TV taught her, diners did not, in fact, want a sassy no-nonsense waitress who was ready to tell customers how to fix their problems. They focused on boring things like "remembering orders" and "not volunteering to throw boiling coffee in the faces of people who had been there too long".
Gregg and Angus had finally managed to get their savings together, and no amount of pouting or vague nightmare eye-based threats would convince them to stay. The good news was that there was now an open spot at the Snack Falcon. The bad news was that she only lasted a week there. It was actually kind of impressive considering how much Gregg slacked off there. But apparently stealing from your own job was worse, not better, than stealing from other people.
There was still one more place to try, but Mae dreaded even thinking about it. The answer was going to be an obvious no, and worse, an obvious no from her sole remaining best friend. But she had a penchant for destruction, surely that could be turned into something halfway useful, right? Mae stepped through the door of the Pickaxe, causing that familiar little bell to ring, a Pavlovian kind of feeling. If Mae had been better at school, she might have seen the oncoming train here and now. Instead, it would take some time for her to realize she'd been training herself for something big.
At any rate, she must have had a serious hangdog look on her face because Bea caught on immediately that things weren't going well. "I take it Snack Falcon was a bust?"
Mae casually pushed herself up and sat on the edge of the counter with a forlorn noise. "Nope. I swear, I'm hopeless. I knew this would happen."
Bea sighed, that sigh she always gave, the only sigh she knew how to make, and rolled her eyes dramatically. "Mae Borowski, you are many things. Impetuous, aggravating, stupid, funny, weird. But you're not hopeless. You have at least one hope, probably others."
"How do you know? How could you possibly say with 100% certainty that I have some hope. Do you have magical hope-sensing powers? Are you a hope-witch, Bea?"
Bea rolled her eyes again, smirking a little this time. "Because I am going to give you a job here."
Mae's nightmare eyes flew wide open and she stared at her for a few silent seconds. "Like seri-"
"Yes, seriously. But there are caveats. Oh, the caveats I shall present to you." That smirk remained, and Mae would have been happy to see it if that didn't mean there was trouble on the horizon. "Until you prove you can behave like a responsible adult, I'm going to be on you like a flipping hawk. You will sort nails, you will carry rock salt, you will go out on home repairs. And when I start feeling like you and I are actually the same age again, we can be friendly here."
Holy crap, that was a lot to lay on a girl. Mae continued to look at her dumbly for a while. "I thought you didn't even really have that kinda power..."
"Eh, dad and I finally broke down and had a kind of gigantic talk about stuff. It was really messy and he was kinda wasted at the time. So obviously it's all in the works still. But I'm at least allowed to hire and fire. Which means I was able to hack and slash my way through our terrible, terrible workforce. Leaving us with plenty of room to bring you in – so that I can babysit you and turn you into a real, actual human being." She chuckled, almost evilly, and rubbed her hands together like some kind of villainous... villain. It was extra creepy when Bea did it because she never laughed.
Seeing as failing at yet another job would no doubt earn her a lecture from her parents, Mae was fully on-board with this whole thing. Because lectures suuuuucked and Beebee was coooool. She placed her right hand on her chest, left hand in the air. "I, Mae Borowski, do solemnly swear to sort nails, carry rock salt, and all that other stuff you said. Um. Amen."
As it turned out, Mae wasn't so bad at the tool and construction business. Granted, it was a long, hard climb to get there. Bea was, surprise surprise, serious about becoming a taskmaster. Every gross cleaning job, every aggravating organizational situation, every demeaning repair job that required crawling around in mud. And she took to them all with gusto. She wanted to prove herself, and more specifically she wanted to prove herself to Bea and her parents and everyone who thought she was just a trashchild. Okay, so maybe she was the only one to ever call herself a trashchild, but you could just tell everyone else did it too when she wasn't listening.
Everything culminated right where it all began. Well, not literally, there were way too many questions and arrangements needed to actually make that happen. But it did feel rather cyclical when the Pickaxe got a call from Mrs. Miranda asking that someone come fix her boiler, which had never been properly repaired since Mae bashed the hell out of it back in the fall. Bea was all-too eager to volunteer her friend for the task.
So now she stood before the monstrosity once again, wrench in hand instead of baseball bat. Bea stood just to the side, leaning against the wall and just looking so smug and cool. "So here we are, Mae Borowski. Finally, after like six months. Just you and... what the hell did you call him?"
"Clanky, duh! But soon, he shall be... Not So Clanky. Which is not a very good name, except when you are a furnace that works properly. Then, it is a badge of honor." Mae drew her wrench as though it were some kind of holy relic and set to work. And really, she was starting to get the hang of it. Bea was rough most of the time when it came to work stuff – she didn't even let the tiniest mistake go unnoticed or unaddressed. But it had actually paid off, because Mae was focused and ready, and before she knew it, Not So Clanky had been born. A beautiful, silent boy full of heat and love.
She could hear Bea at the top of the basement steps attempting to futilely turn the doorknob, then sigh, and start descending to join her. "Alright, looks like it's time for your final test. Complete this last mission and you will officially be declared 'capable'. Mrs. Miranda has locked us down here again. You have to get her attention without busting, smashing, or otherwise breaking anything. Can you do this?" It was weird, Bea was almost starting to sound more like her normal self again, amused rather than dictatorial or surly, despite the two of them being locked down here once again.
Mae looked back at the furnace and a familiar feeling washed over her. Initially it had been a sensation of terror and confusion. But for the first time ever, it actually made things... better? She smiled and looked over at Bea with a confident nod. "Easy as nuffin, muffin. Just make sure you're ready to answer the door when Mrs. Miranda shows. I'll need an extra second or two before I can leave."
Mae hadn't meant to be vague, and it made Bea nervous. "And you're not gonna so much as bash a single thing?"
"I solemnly swear, Beatrice Santello. With little more than a few wrench turns, we will be free as birds, provided the birds in question are not in jail. Because those birds are not free." She apparently chose not to bother responding and instead just went back up the stairs. With the room cleared, Mae turned her attention once more on Not So Clanky. Looking at him now, it was all so easy.
He was just... shapes.
After some lemonade and objects that Mrs. Miranda told them were scones though both girls doubted it, Bea finally spoke up. A cloud of fireflies was gathering around Mae and she gracefully caught one between her paws. "Okay so I kinda intuited that you might be good at this, but you got like... actually good. What the hell was that?"
"You have to promise not to freak out on me. Because I'm going to say something that may be slightly freak-out-ish." Of course, telling someone not to freak out often made them start to immediately do exactly that. But it was also hard to tell with Bea. So perhaps it all evened out anyway. "Um, so... Remember when everything went to hell and then we were crashing on Gregg and Angus's couch and I talked about the softball thing and college and shapes?"
"Uh, yeah Mae, it's kinda hard to forget the first time someone describes what their dissociative episodes are like." There was a definite edge to her voice, and Mae had to remind herself that it was only because Bea cared about her that she talked like that.
"This was kinda. The good version. Of that stuff. Like I could just look at the furnace and see all the bits and pieces and get a feel for how it was put together and what it needed. And I guess maybe that's because... when something is stuff, it actually has been created. It was disturbing and gross when it happened to people because they're supposed to be fleshy and unpredictable. But with stuff, it's okay, because it's supposed to be shapes and pieces. Does. Any of that actually make sense or am I just complete back in crazy town now?"
Beatrice stopped walking for a moment and eyed her down, as serious as can be. "Y'know what? After that whole death-cult thing? I'm kinda open to pretty much any possibility. But I'm going to be keeping a close eye on you, Borowski. Any sign that you're going to bash someone's face in and I'm putting you on permanent register duty. Especially since there's a 75% chance it's my face you'd bash. And I enjoy my face."
"Nah. Even Crazy Mae wouldn't dare hurt a face that cute." She had meant for that to come out as a joke. But her heart was beating a little harder now as they continued on toward Bea's car.
