Chapter Twenty-Nine: A Man's Work Is Never Done…Unless He Quits Or Gets Fired.


"Cody Jackson, you're free to go."

"If I had a penny for every time I've heard that one..." I mumbled, standing up. I walked down the hall slowly, hands in pockets.

I waited for the elevator. When it arrived, I checked to see who was in it. Finding no danger, I stepped inside, pressing the button for the first floor. Then I leaned against the side of the elevator, placing my hands back inside my pockets, resting a foot on the wall.

The elevator door opened.

I stepped out, looking around. I spotted Nathan lounging back on a chair in the lobby.

He looked up at me. "I really gotta get me one of these chairs for my room. They're so comfortable. Ready to go?"

"Yeah."


"Nice to see you back, Cody." Nelson patted my shoulder.

"Yeah." When I turned to walk up the stairs, I mumbled, "Sure it is."

"Cody?" he called to me.

"Yeah?" I opened the door to my room.

"What did you say?"

"Yes sir?" I corrected myself, looking around the room.

There were boxes stacked everywhere, creating very little walking space. I stepped back out, closing the door behind me.

Did I have the wrong room?

I headed downstairs.

"I rearranged the room," Nelson said.

"So I've noticed. Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Pool house." Nelson dangled a few keys in his hand, pulled one off the keychain, and handed it to me.

I took it, then walked to the pool house.

Inside, I found a bed, a refrigerator, a bathroom, a TV, a computer, and a whole lot more.

Nelson had followed me. "You like it?"

I smiled. "Yes sir."

"Good." He turned to leave. "I will collect rent on the first day of every month."

The smile drained from my face. "Rent?"

He turned back to me. "Yeah."

"But I don't-"

"Cody, you're nineteen-almost twenty. It's about time you take responsibility. And, plus, it's the least you could do after all that money I've spent to get you out of jail three times."

"But where am I supposed to get money?"

Before leaving, Nelson said, "Get a job."


*FLASHBACK*

"You start Monday."

"Thanks." I walked out of the fast food restaurant and got into the car.

Nathan sat in the driver's seat. "So, did you get it?"

"Yeah."

"Finally. This has been, like, the fourth place we've been to today."

"Seventh," I corrected him.

"I don't understand why those places didn't hire you."

"Mostly because of background checks."

Nathan was silent.

I have about two and a half weeks to get $300. Rent costs $400, but I already have $100 from my previous jobs that I just couldn't seem to keep.

Let's just hope I could get this money.

*END FLASHBACK*

There was a knock on the door.

Here we go.

I walked to the door and opened it.

"Rent's due." Nelson held out his hand for me to give him the money. "Pay up."

I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my wallet, then looked inside. S***! I pulled out all the money I had, handing it to Nelson.

He stood there, counting it. "You're a hundred dollars short."

"I couldn't get the money," I said quietly.

"You had a whole month. How could you not get the money?!" He was getting angry.

"It took a while to find a job. No one would hire me with my background. Plus, I'm only paid minimum wage. And I gotta buy food."

"It was hard for me to find a job when I was your age, but I did after I got a little education. Look where it got me." Nelson pointed to his house.

"But I don't have any money for college."

"Guess you shouldn't have dropped out of high school, then, huh, Cody? You could've gone to college with a full scholarship, but you quit only three months before graduation."

*FLASHBACK*

"Is Melissa here?"

"Oh, hey, Cody. Yeah, she's upstairs in her room. You can go on up if you want," Melissa's mother said.

"Thanks." I stepped into the house and walked upstairs, heading toward Melissa's room. It was the second door on the right.

I knocked on the door.

There was no answer.

"Mel?" I knocked again.

There was still no answer.

I turned the knob and stepped inside.

She wasn't in here.

"Mel?"

I heard a cry coming from the bathroom.

"Mel?" I headed to the door, then knocked on it. "Mel, you in there?"

There was another cry. "Mel, it's me: Jackson."

I heard a crash.

"Mel!" I rushed inside.

Melissa lay on the floor, razor in hand, wrists bleeding.

"Melissa! What the h*** are you doing?!"

She cried.

I sat on the floor next to her. Gently, I grabbed her arms, pulling her up to look at me. "Mel, what's wrong?"

Between sobs, she said, "They...they won't stop."

"Who won't stop, Mel?"

"The kids...kids at school."

"What are they doing?"

She didn't answer.

"Mel, what did they do?"

"They keep...p-p-picking on m-me."

"Why?"

She looked into my eyes. "B-because I...hang out with y-you."

"So? What's wrong with that?"

"They keep talking...about m-me and you...together all the time. They know...about your past. They won't stop b-bullying me."

"How long has this been going on, Mel?"

"Almost two...two years. Ever since...we got back from...from the i-island."

"I'm so sorry, Mel. I didn't know." I took the razor from her. "But you can't keep doing this to yourself."

"Then what am I supposed to do, Jackson?! Huh?! They won't stop! I'm tired of it! I can't take it anymore!"

I was silent for a moment, looking down.

Blood was all over the floor, some still dripping from her arm.

My eyes were still on the ground when I spoke with a quiet voice. "I'll quit."

*END FLASHBACK*

"Look. Can I just...pay you the money when I get it?"

"I don't know. Can you?"

"May I pay you the money when I get it?"

"You got one week," he said firmly. "And you better pay your rent on time next month."

"Alright."

Nelson looked at me.

"Yes, sir."

"One week." He put his index finger in my face. "But if you don't pay me by then..." He pointed his thumb behind him. "...you're out of here."

"Yes, Mr. McHugh." When he looked at me, I quickly added, "Sir."


"Cody, come here."

I left the cash register and walked to the manager.

"You're supposed to smile like you want to be here when you take orders."

"But I don't wanna be here."

It's not bad enough that the boss tells me to smile, pretending I want to be at work when I'd rather be anywhere else. He makes me call in every week to ask for my hours, too. And it turns into a whole extra job finding out when I'm supposed to be at my job.

So, whenever I explain these issues, the same thing always happens.

"If you hate it so much, why don't you just quit?"

"Good point. I quit."