Chapter Four
Stupid, stupid Mike! Oh why did I tell her I had to go home early? She obviously wanted to spend more time with me. Well, I guess it's for the best. She might not like me if she found out I don't really have a job. Not for the time being, at least. Hopefully something will come up soon. I'd hate to lose my apartment. A few days ago I wouldn't have cared much, but now I know that she lives here. What's more, I can see her from where I am. My living room window looks directly into her bedroom window. Only problem is that I'm on the third floor, and she's on the first, which doesn't make for a spectacular view. I borrowed some binoculars from Joseph in 302, but I didn't tell him what I needed them for. Who is he to judge me anyway? He's the one who gave me all those rare porno magazines, after all.
June 8th - Mike
Mike awoke around 12:30 that afternoon, still somewhat hung over from the night before. Not that he had had that much to drink at the bar, but he did have a substantial liquor cabinet in his apartment. To someone who didn't know him (and not very many people knew him) he would appear to be a classic alcoholic, but he didn't care. With any luck, he would be doing some entertaining soon, so there would be someone else to help him consume all that booze.
"Well there go my early morning plans…" Mike mused aloud, referring to his promise to himself, made early that morning before he even went to bed, that he would get up early and begin his job search. Time for Plan B; he headed downstairs to the lobby to buy a newspaper. He moved quickly down the hallway to the stairs; he didn't particularly relish rubbing elbows with any of the other residents of the apartment building aside from his friend Joseph…and his lady love, of course. At any rate, he knew he couldn't be so lucky.
"Hello," he uttered quietly as he passed Richard Braintree in the stairwell. Richard was a middle-aged man who lived on the second floor, and was pretty much unanimously hated by everyone in the building. The man issued an annoyed grunt in reply as he continued on his way, and Mike breathed a sigh of relief. He was not going to let some friendless asshole ruin his plans for the day.
Thankfully the commons were deserted when he arrived on the first floor, so he purchased his newspaper from the machine and glanced over it en route back to the stairs until he was interrupted.
"So, did the birdwatching expedition get cancelled or something?" a voice asked teasingly, causing him to look up.
"Hey, Schreiber, what's happenin', man?" Mike greeted his friend Joseph, who entered the building and was now standing behind him. He blushed a little at the reminder of the lame excuse he'd had the night before when he borrowed the binoculars. He knew that Joseph knew better, but as he'd maintained, he was in no position to judge him, nor was anyone else.
"You know better than to try to lie to me, Findlay," Joseph continued, smiling knowingly. "I am a reporter, after all. You have to get up pretty early in the morning to get something past me."
"Yeah, I should've known," Mike said, and quickly changed the subject. "Say, you don't know of anybody that's hiring right now, do you?"
The middle-aged man pondered this. "Well, I hear the hospital is looking for some new staffers. Kitchen, janitors, that sort of thing. I guess they pay pretty well if you don't mind working some pretty late hours."
"The hospital?" Mike said hopefully. "You mean St. Jerome's right down the street here?"
"Yeah. Rachael in 106 works there, so you might talk to her about it. You might wanna talk to her anyway. She's really cute."
"Heh…" Mike couldn't help grinning at this. "I'll do that. Thanks."
Within the next fifteen minutes, Mike was dressed in his finest interview attire-black slacks and a white button-down shirt, both slightly wrinkled but still wearable-and was entering the front doors of St. Jerome's. Much to his dismay, the same receptionist that was there yesterday was there again. She looked up at him, and the recognition was evident in her eyes.
"Um, Rachael's at lunch right now," she said before he even approached her.
"Actually, I would like to put in a job application today," he said.
"Oh…" She looked around, making an obvious spectacle of searching for something. "Um, I'll have to go print up some more applications." She then disappeared into the back, where she remained for at least five minutes. When it became apparent that she was not coming back, Mike started to head back in the direction she had gone, when he ran into a short, middle-aged man pushing a wide dust mop.
"Lookin' for a job, are ya?" the man asked.
"Yeah. I think she forgot about me."
"Ah, don't pay her no mind. She steals Xanax from the drug room." He looked over his shoulder and leaned in closer. "And…my sources have it that she's been doing a little 'overtime' with Dr. Case, if you catch my drift." The man chuckled and nodded knowingly.
"Oh…" Mike laughed obligingly, and added lamely, "That probably happens a lot, doesn't it?"
"Well, yeah." The custodian leaned on his dust mop and grinned lasciviously. "But the kicker is…Dr. Case is a woman."
"Oh? Oh…hmm…" Mike felt even more uncomfortable now, especially considering the nature of those porno magazines he had at home.
"Ah, sorry about that, son. I guess that was a little too much info, especially since we ain't even been formally introduced yet." The man removed one of his work gloves and held out a hand. "I'm Jerome. I'm the eyes and ears of this institution."
"Jerome? As in, like, Saint?"
The man laughed. "You'd be surprised how often I get asked that. So ya want a job or not, kid?"
"You…you'd give me a job just like that? I don't have to interview and stuff?"
Jerome shrugged. "Don't really see the point of goin' through all that professional interview crap for a person who's just gonna unclog toilets all day."
"So…I'm hired?"
"Yep. Come in tomorrow mornin' and I'll show ya the ropes."
Mike nearly jumped out of his skin, but somehow maintained his composure, though he did nearly wrench the man's arm out of its socket with his enthusiastic handshake.
"Thanks a lot. You have no idea how much this means to me," he said.
"Well you're welcome, kid. But I'll tell ya right now before you get your hopes up, you ain't gonna get rich on this job. In fact, you'll be lucky to barely get by. That's just the nature of this job, though."
Mike beamed. "Oh don't worry about me. I'm not in it for the money anyway."
---
By that time the following day, Mike had been at work at his new job for four hours and in that time had learned more than he ever cared to know about the field of custodial work. The mops had to be laundered by themselves every night in the designated washing machine in the basement, each spray bottle of cleaning chemicals had to be washed and sanitized before being refilled-in their own designated sink in the basement, of course-and the mop water had to be made with the hottest water possible and with the proper PPI of sanitizing solution (whatever the hell PPI meant.) At any rate, he wasn't particularly concerned with becoming employee of the month. What did concern him was the fact that he had been there all day and did not see Rachael once. Perhaps she didn't work today, he pondered to himself as he moseyed into the second floor break room to check the trash cans. He was standing there debating whether to empty one that was only about ¾ full when he felt the presence of another person in the room.
"Oh, it's you." A surge of hope rushed through him when he turned to see a woman standing there, but it dissipated quickly when he saw that it was the front desk receptionist. The blonde smirked as she observed him.
"I…don't think we've met," Mike said awkwardly.
"No, we've met, we just haven't been introduced," she said somewhat facetiously, holding out her hand. "I'm Cheryl."
"Mike." As he took her hand, he noticed that she had a tattoo of a tribal design on the underside of her wrist. He was wont to notice things like that about a person right off the bat. Moving on, he noticed that her straight, shoulder-length blonde locks were tinged with the ever-so noticeable hint of blue streaks, indicating that she might consider herself to be something of a punk. Her tight pants and sheer white blouse, left unbuttoned just so, were enough to pull a person's attention from her hair, though. Overall, he had to admit that she was indeed quite attractive, despite her churlish demeanor. He also recalled Jerome's little story about her, and a whole flood of sordid thoughts filled his head. He wondered if she fancied Rachael, and perhaps that could explain her attitude toward him. For that matter, if this were the case, had those two ever…
No, he chided himself mentally. Best not to go there.
"So, did Rachael get you a job here or something?" she asked, still eying him unsettlingly. Her tone suggested that she was on to him, but he thought quickly.
"Um…well, yes and no," he said as casually as he could. "She let me know that they were looking for help."
"Hmm." Cheryl shouldered past him and opened the refridgerator behind him, reaching for a Mountain Dew bottle in the door. He searched desperately for something else to do in the room, when in walked yet another distraction, only this time it was one he actually wanted.
"Hey Cheryl, I…" Rachael stopped in her tracks when she saw Mike standing there. "Mike…?"
"Hey, how are you doing?" he blurted, and felt a sinking sensation in his stomach as soon as the words left his mouth. He realized then how unnatural this must have appeared, and unfortunately it seemed Cheryl was privy to this. She observed with folded arms and a knowing grin.
"You…work here?" Rachael said.
Damn, damn, damn, Mike mentally screamed. It was too late even to ask her to play along. At any rate, if he asked her to do that she would want to know why, and he wasn't ready for that.
"Yeah, today is my first day," he said, imagining himself being shot out of a cannon face-first into the wall right then.
"Oh…well, that's great! I hope you like it here." She looked over at Cheryl with a vacant expression. "Have you met Cheryl?"
"Oh yes, we were just in here talking," Cheryl answered for him, staring him down the entire time.
"That's cool." Rachael was already heading for the door. "Well, I'll see you guys around. Oh, andgood luck with the job, Mike."
Mike held his breath until she was gone, feeling Cheryl's scrutinizing gaze. She chuckled as she ambled to the door.
"And they say romance is dead."
