The Interview
"Mr. Spencer, what brings you to San Pedro?"
"Just moved out on my own" he responded with a small shrug
"From…" He flipped the application over. "Santa Barbara?"
"Yes Sir."
"Why now?"
"Just figured it was time…you know?"
Mr. Dearsing scanned the application again. Shawn could see his eyes flicking back and forth on the page. He thought back to when he had been in the lobby, Dearsing was focusing on the exact areas dealing with his lack of complete education, and his crime.
Shit.
The silence was getting awkward. For lack of a better thing to do, he scanned the room quickly learning all he could about the man across the desk from him.
"Shawn-can I call you Shawn?"
"Sure."
"Here's the thing Shawn. You don't have any previous job experience, you didn't finish high school, and I'm a little concerned it may be because of this crime…"
Damn it.
He focused on the photo behind the desk of Mr. Dearsing with whom he assumed to be his wife and kids. There were four kids in the picture. The tallest two were clearly his, while the other two, a young African girl and an Indian Baby were clearly adopted.
This guy had a soft spot for orphans.
"I don't think we can hire you at this time."
"I'm sorry sir, let me explain."
He should have just lied earlier and been done with it.
"A week and a half ago a burglar broke into my house while my parents were sleeping. I was still up doing my homework, a project actually." He looked at Mr. Dearsing, he had his attention.
"He…he k-ki…" He reached out for the handkerchief and dabbed his eyes dramatically. "He killed my p-parents. I just couldn't stay in town anymore. I know school was so close to being done…I was planning on going to Harvard. But I couldn't stay any longer, it was too…t-traumatic."
He swore he saw the hint of tears in Mr. Dearsing's eyes.
"I stole some food the other day, I don't have any money."
He blew his nose into the tissue. Throwing the used article into the trash he stood and turned to the door.
"Thank you for your time."
He only got half way there before the man's voice called out to him.
"Mr. Spencer-Shawn?"
"Yes?"
"Can you be ready to start tomorrow morning?"
He hesitated; he would have to play this right to make sure he didn't lose his hand now. He wiped his nose on his sleeve and sniffled before responding.
"Tomorrow sir?"
"We have a cruise ship leaving in the afternoon and one of our lifeguards has recently come down with Mono. We've been trying to fill his position." Mr. Dearsing glanced back down to the application. "You say here you were on the swim team in middle school and high school?"
"Yes sir."
"Do you know CPR?"
"Yes sir, my mother is-was a doctor."
Shit, he had almost blown his story. Fortunately Mr. Dearsing seemed convinced the slip up was due to the fact he had not quite gotten over her death. In order to sell the point he sniffled once more as he rubbed his eye.
"Alright, go outside and talk to Judy, she'll get you set up with the details." Mr. Dearsing stood and crossed the room to him. "Shawn, I'm sorry about your parents, if you ever need anyone to discuss it with, I'm here for you."
He took the man's outstretched hand and shook it as Mr. Dearsing patted him on the shoulder.
"Thank you Mr. Dearsing."
"Call me Martin."
"Thank you Martin."