Joe stepped into the alley and stooped down behind some trashcans. He leaned back against the wall. He had been looking for a job for hours but at every place he had been informed his application would be reviewed and if he were chosen for an interview, he would be called.
How could they call him? He had no phone; no address. He didn't even have a change of clothes. It was almost six o'clock! No one was even taking applications any more. He would probably end up sleeping down close to the river. At least there were fishermen there. Maybe, if he were really lucky, one of them would share a catch. Surely, he could find someway to cook a fish. He grimaced. Yeah, the fish in the river had a higher than normal concentration of mercury than was healthy but if he didn't eat but one or two he should be fine.
He started to rise when he heard a loud "oomph." He peered over the trashcans and saw two men holding another at bay. The two hoods were young, about twenty, and armed with knives.
"Come on, hand it over," one of the them snarled at their victim. Joe scuttled down the alley silently, visible only to the victim since the hoods had backed him to the wall. Joe held a finger to his lips, hoping the man who was being mugged would not take away his element of surprise.
Joe smiled when the man started talking, trying to keep the two occupied as Joe neared. "Hand over what?" he asked. "You surely don't think I keep money on me in this neighborhood?"
"That's okay," one of the hoods returned. "We take credit cards too. Give us your wallet," he demanded, holding the knife up and stepping closer.
Joe tapped the hood on the shoulder. He spun around, his eyes wide in surprise. Joe let fly with a right uppercut that sent him reeling back into the building. He saw from the corner of his eye that the once victim was now dealing a few swift blows of his own to the other attacker so Joe gave his full concentration to the boy he had just hit and who was now coming at him with the knife raised.
Joe dodged the knife and landed a jab in the hood's mid section as he passed by him. At the same time, Joe shot his foot out causing him to trip. As the thug fell, his knife sliced through his own pants leg, bringing a supply of blood that darkened the denim of his pants around the tear. "Let's go," he grunted, getting up and running away as fast as he could. The other hood shoved his initial victim off of him and took off after his pal.
"You okay?" asked Joe, offering the man a hand.
The dark-haired man put his hand in Joe's and let Joe help him to his feet which was a good four inches taller than Joe's own six feet. "I am," the man said, showing Joe his pearly whites as his green eyes gazed into Joe's blue ones gratefully. "Thank you for your help."
"Any time," Joe replied, giving the man a small smile that never disturbed the sadness in his eyes.
"What were you doing in the alley?" the man inquired curiously.
Joe shrugged. "Taking a break. I've been job hunting and, frankly, I'm beat."
"How long have you been at it?" the man asked.
"Since ten this morning," Joe answered. "But, no one wants to hire someone on the spot."
"You might get a call back," the man stated.
"I just got into town," Joe admitted. "I don't have a phone. I offered to call back but that, with my youthful appearance, pretty much eliminates me in most employers eyes I'm afraid."
"Not as young as you look?"
"Actually, I am," Joe confessed. "I'm seventeen but I will be eighteen in September."
"What can you do?" asked the man in a causal tone.
"I can do pretty much anything," Joe answered. "I've had part time jobs as a DJ, a sanitation worker, a photographer and a construction worker. You know, there is an idea," he continued excitedly. "Maybe I can find one of those twenty-four hour photo labs and get a job there. I used to have my own darkroom. I've been taking and developing pictures since I was ten."
"How about a job in real estate?" asked the man.
"You have to have a license for that," Joe pointed out.
"Not to take the pictures of the property and fix the brochures," the man stated. "Too, you could take pictures of resorts and arrange a layout for the resort brochure."
"I could probably do that," Joe said thoughtfully. "But I have never done layouts before and I would have to learn."
"It's settled then," the man stated, taking Joe's elbow and leading him out of the alley.
"What's settled?"
"I am Rick Tyrell," the man introduced himself. "I own and run Tyrell Enterprises. We have been using freelancers for all of our photographic work but I think it would be more cost effective to have a photographer on the payroll."
"I appreciate the offer," Joe said. "But I'm not a professional. I only worked at a photo lab back home when they needed extra help. And the only pictures I have developed personally have been my own, or for friends or family. I have no training. I taught myself."
"I admire honesty," Rick said. "But you won't have to worry. We have an internship program. You can work while you learn."
"But you said you didn't have a photo department," Joe reminded him.
"I said we didn't have a photographer," Rick corrected him. "But, now that we will, we need to install a program for a photography department. You can take any courses you need in the mornings at the local college and come to the office in the afternoons."
The hopeful smile Joe had been wearing vanished. "I can't do that," Joe disagreed. "But thank you anyway."
"Why not?"
"I haven't finished high school," Joe confessed. "I still have a year left."
"Not a problem," Rick assured him. "You can attend night school and still take the courses at the college. Since you won't be going for a degree just yet, I am sure we won't have a problem," Rick told Joe, making a mental note to make a large contribution to the local college.
"Really?" asked Joe. He couldn't believe his good fortune.
"Really," asserted Rick. He pulled out his wallet and handed Joe a business card. "Come to my office at seven tomorrow morning and we will get you set up."
"Thank you!" Joe said, gratitude appearing in his eyes. "I'll be there."
Rick smiled, nodded, and walked away. Joe looked at the card and tucked it into his pocket. Okay, in a couple of weeks he would have a regular paycheck and a decent job but he still had no money and no place to stay in the meantime. Sighing, Joe left the alley and started toward the river, grateful that at least it was still summer and he would have a paying job and hopefully a place to live before it started getting cold.
How could they call him? He had no phone; no address. He didn't even have a change of clothes. It was almost six o'clock! No one was even taking applications any more. He would probably end up sleeping down close to the river. At least there were fishermen there. Maybe, if he were really lucky, one of them would share a catch. Surely, he could find someway to cook a fish. He grimaced. Yeah, the fish in the river had a higher than normal concentration of mercury than was healthy but if he didn't eat but one or two he should be fine.
He started to rise when he heard a loud "oomph." He peered over the trashcans and saw two men holding another at bay. The two hoods were young, about twenty, and armed with knives.
"Come on, hand it over," one of the them snarled at their victim. Joe scuttled down the alley silently, visible only to the victim since the hoods had backed him to the wall. Joe held a finger to his lips, hoping the man who was being mugged would not take away his element of surprise.
Joe smiled when the man started talking, trying to keep the two occupied as Joe neared. "Hand over what?" he asked. "You surely don't think I keep money on me in this neighborhood?"
"That's okay," one of the hoods returned. "We take credit cards too. Give us your wallet," he demanded, holding the knife up and stepping closer.
Joe tapped the hood on the shoulder. He spun around, his eyes wide in surprise. Joe let fly with a right uppercut that sent him reeling back into the building. He saw from the corner of his eye that the once victim was now dealing a few swift blows of his own to the other attacker so Joe gave his full concentration to the boy he had just hit and who was now coming at him with the knife raised.
Joe dodged the knife and landed a jab in the hood's mid section as he passed by him. At the same time, Joe shot his foot out causing him to trip. As the thug fell, his knife sliced through his own pants leg, bringing a supply of blood that darkened the denim of his pants around the tear. "Let's go," he grunted, getting up and running away as fast as he could. The other hood shoved his initial victim off of him and took off after his pal.
"You okay?" asked Joe, offering the man a hand.
The dark-haired man put his hand in Joe's and let Joe help him to his feet which was a good four inches taller than Joe's own six feet. "I am," the man said, showing Joe his pearly whites as his green eyes gazed into Joe's blue ones gratefully. "Thank you for your help."
"Any time," Joe replied, giving the man a small smile that never disturbed the sadness in his eyes.
"What were you doing in the alley?" the man inquired curiously.
Joe shrugged. "Taking a break. I've been job hunting and, frankly, I'm beat."
"How long have you been at it?" the man asked.
"Since ten this morning," Joe answered. "But, no one wants to hire someone on the spot."
"You might get a call back," the man stated.
"I just got into town," Joe admitted. "I don't have a phone. I offered to call back but that, with my youthful appearance, pretty much eliminates me in most employers eyes I'm afraid."
"Not as young as you look?"
"Actually, I am," Joe confessed. "I'm seventeen but I will be eighteen in September."
"What can you do?" asked the man in a causal tone.
"I can do pretty much anything," Joe answered. "I've had part time jobs as a DJ, a sanitation worker, a photographer and a construction worker. You know, there is an idea," he continued excitedly. "Maybe I can find one of those twenty-four hour photo labs and get a job there. I used to have my own darkroom. I've been taking and developing pictures since I was ten."
"How about a job in real estate?" asked the man.
"You have to have a license for that," Joe pointed out.
"Not to take the pictures of the property and fix the brochures," the man stated. "Too, you could take pictures of resorts and arrange a layout for the resort brochure."
"I could probably do that," Joe said thoughtfully. "But I have never done layouts before and I would have to learn."
"It's settled then," the man stated, taking Joe's elbow and leading him out of the alley.
"What's settled?"
"I am Rick Tyrell," the man introduced himself. "I own and run Tyrell Enterprises. We have been using freelancers for all of our photographic work but I think it would be more cost effective to have a photographer on the payroll."
"I appreciate the offer," Joe said. "But I'm not a professional. I only worked at a photo lab back home when they needed extra help. And the only pictures I have developed personally have been my own, or for friends or family. I have no training. I taught myself."
"I admire honesty," Rick said. "But you won't have to worry. We have an internship program. You can work while you learn."
"But you said you didn't have a photo department," Joe reminded him.
"I said we didn't have a photographer," Rick corrected him. "But, now that we will, we need to install a program for a photography department. You can take any courses you need in the mornings at the local college and come to the office in the afternoons."
The hopeful smile Joe had been wearing vanished. "I can't do that," Joe disagreed. "But thank you anyway."
"Why not?"
"I haven't finished high school," Joe confessed. "I still have a year left."
"Not a problem," Rick assured him. "You can attend night school and still take the courses at the college. Since you won't be going for a degree just yet, I am sure we won't have a problem," Rick told Joe, making a mental note to make a large contribution to the local college.
"Really?" asked Joe. He couldn't believe his good fortune.
"Really," asserted Rick. He pulled out his wallet and handed Joe a business card. "Come to my office at seven tomorrow morning and we will get you set up."
"Thank you!" Joe said, gratitude appearing in his eyes. "I'll be there."
Rick smiled, nodded, and walked away. Joe looked at the card and tucked it into his pocket. Okay, in a couple of weeks he would have a regular paycheck and a decent job but he still had no money and no place to stay in the meantime. Sighing, Joe left the alley and started toward the river, grateful that at least it was still summer and he would have a paying job and hopefully a place to live before it started getting cold.