Chapter 4: Mercy Thompson
It had been a few days before I even got word about were some jobs might be. Even though I was under age, one person offered me a job. It was Thompson's garage, a small place in the Eastern part of Kennewick.
Monday rolled around, and I headed off into the city of Kennewick. In the words of the Native Americans, Kennewick means "grassy place." Which I was told about by Mercedes, the owner, when I asked her about some of the history of the city.
" For a long time, this community and others around the world had something called Fae, and they had higher people who told them what to do, and they were known as The Gray Lords." She explained, "But just a few years ago, they were forced to come out of hiding and show themselves to the public."
"Ah." I replied.
She looked at me curiously. "Hey kid, what do you want me to call you anyway? Do you have a name, or do you want me to just call you 'hey kid'?"
I thought for a minute. I knew that I could not tell her my real name, because then she would ask where I was from.
"Mac," I said.
I do not think she believed that that was my real name, but she went along with it anyway.
"O.k. Mac," she said in a light tone.
"You can call me Mercedes, or Mercy, whichever you like."
"Could you do me a favor?" she asked, "There's a number by the phone, and I need you to call that number and tell the people their car is ready."
I nodded, and headed for the saloon type doors in the back of the garage.
"Uh Mac, the office is over there." She said as she pointed to a red door on the left wall of the garage.
"Hehe right." I laughed as I turned on my heels to go to the red door. The door was a rather old looking door, made of wood, and showed some wear and tear. Rust was beginning to build up on the front of the doorknob, giving the door an even older look.
I opened it, and it objected with a squeak. I walked inside the office and over to the phone.
The desk where the phone was located was cluttered with piles of papers that needed to be put away and sorted. I could hardly even get to the phone. A giant 500-page catalog of auto parts lay on top of it.
Once I moved the catalog, and made the phone call, I went back and told Mercy that I had to leave. She said she's see me whenever, and I said thanks for the pay, and the shower.
She smiled as I left, then I did not see her for a few days.