Chapter 3

The tall, slender woman who leaned back casually in a cracked, black-vinyl office chair had the manner of someone presiding over an executive boardroom. In fact, the woman presided over nothing but a cheap wood-veneer-topped desk in a closet-sized, windowless office. An even cheaper acrylic nameplate at the front of the desk announced that the woman's name was Jessica Sweets. A strange last name, Joshua thought. Under "Jessica Sweets", the nameplate revealed that the woman was a career counselor. Given Sweets' smug expression that clearly telegraphed her inflated self-opinion, Joshua was sure she thought she was the best career counselor on the planet. It almost made Joshua wish he could be one too.

Jessica studied Joshua with narrowed eyes magnified and contorted by thick, black-rimmed glasses. The eyewear dominated a smooth face topped by a high forehead.

Jessica flashed Joshua a grin. The grin was toothy and looked more like a grimace than a smile.

"So, Joshua," Jessica said, "what's your deal?"

Jessica's gaze ran up and down the length of Joshua as if she was sizing him up. She continued to recline in her chair. One of her large feet was propped against the ugly, scarred desk. The foot wagged as if Jessica was keeping time with a tune that only she could hear.

"Well, Josh?" Jessica asked. "Mind if I call you Josh?"

Joshua shrugged. He didn't care what Jessica called him. He didn't care what she had to say, either. Anything she said would be annoying. She seemed to have a grating voice - silky and sing-songy to an irritating degree. It was as if she couldn't figure out who she was or what she wanted to sound like.

But whatever. Joshua didn't care about why Jessica sounded the way she did. All Joshua wanted to do was get this meeting over with.

"So, what are you, Josh?" Jessica asked. "Some kind of head case?" She used her wiggling foot to push off the desk. She straightened her chair and leaned forward, propping her elbows on the beige felt blotter that held a single manilla file folder and red coffee mug, which appeared to be empty. The folder was the only one on Jessica's desk. Other than an old landline phone and an empty metal-mesh inbox, the desk looked like it was never needed for any actual work.

"Dr. Jekyll and Mr. I-Like-To-Beat-People-Up," Jessica sneered. "Is that who you are?"

Joshua stared at Jessica. Not only was the woman saying nothing he had expected to hear, there was something off about her. Jessica's nose twitched. Maybe it was her odor. Joshua couldn't place it. It wasn't sweat or anything like that. It wasn't perfume or food. It was something…musky…something that made Joshua think of the damp basement in his childhood home. He'd never liked going down into that basement. He didn't like Jessica, either.

Jessica didn't seem to care that Joshua remained mute. "You attack a woman in broad daylight…," she said.

Joshua's inner eye replayed the fight in the fountain. He felt the cold water, tasted the coppery blood. Joshua licked his lips and stayed silent.

"...in front of her own child," Jessica went on. "So, you like beating women? Gonna try and beat me too?"

Joshua's memory took him back to the fountain again. He remembered the pressure of Jacq's arm around his shoulders, and his voice shouting his name. Joshua had fought against Jacq in as his gaze had searched for the little boy he'd just rescued. Then he heard the boy screaming for his mother. Still holding his toy Piplup, the boy had scrambled into the fountain to reach the woman Joshua was attacking. That's when Joshua had finally let Jacq pull him away.

"One has to wonder," Jessica said, tearing Joshua from the shameful memory, "what would possess a man to attack a woman the way that you did?"

Joshua looked down at his hands, which were twisted together against his churning stomach. "It was a misunderstanding," he said softly. "I thought that-"

"Yes," Jessica interrupted as she opened the folder in front of her. "There's a note here." She tapped the top page in the file. "Given your…unique…history, I understand how you could've made that mistake. But that's not the whole story of Josh, is it?"

Jessica flipped through a few pages of Joshua's file. She paused and cleared her throat. Tapping a page, she read, "Big Tire Shop. Sales associate. Two months. Employment terminated for cause. Insubordination. Media Central. Custodial staff. One week. Fired because of a…," Jessica leaned over the page and read even more slowly "'...generally unpleasant disposition.'" Jessica looked up. "Want some coffee?"

"What?" Joshua asked. The non sequitur caught him off-guard.

"Would you like some coffee?" Jessica asked again.

Joshua couldn't process the request. How had they gone from a walk down the memory lane of his failures to a friendly offer of coffee? All Joshua could do was stare at Jessica.

Jessica shrugged and pushed out of her chair. She grabbed the red mug and took two steps to a coffee maker that sat on top of the gray filing cabinet in the corner of the office. Joshua hadn't noticed the coffee maker. He hadn't noticed the aroma of coffee, either. He'd been too distracted by that acrid odor that seemed to emanate from Jessica.

Joshua shifted in his chair to look at Jessica's shoes. Had she stepped in something that was causing the stench? Joshua couldn't tell. Jessica wore white-and-blue sneakers. They didn't appear to be stained.

Jessica poured her coffee, and Joshua finally caught the nutty scent of the brew. She tore open a packet of sugar and added it to the mug. She didn't bother to stir it. Instead, she turned and looked at Joshua.

"I'm gonna be brutally honest with you, Josh," Jessica said. "Given your track record, your options are gonna be extremely limited."

Joshua made a face. Time to grovel.

"I'll take anything," Joshua said. "Any job you have."

"I get that part," Jessica said. She lifted her mug and took a sip of her coffee. She smiled and closed her eyes briefly, as if savoring the flavor.

Joshua resisted the urge to squirm with impatience. He watched Jessica amble back to her desk chair.

"Even so," Jessica added on, "let's say I put you up for…oh, I don't know…let's say a dishwashing job. Next thing, I'm getting a phone call telling me that you tried to drown the fry cook in the sink with all the dirty dishes."

Jessica set down her mug and tapped it with her index finger. The dull clunking sound made Joshua realize that it was oddly quiet in Jessica's office. Even though the adjacent offices were occupied by other social workers and those inside needed help, the nearby conversations sounded like little more than a swishy sort of roar, like the distant crash of ocean waves.

Jessica leaned forward and nailed Joshua with a look so severe that Joshua was tempted to lean away. Jessica's superior, jovial air seemed to morph into something else, something almost threatening.

"That would be very bad for me, Josh," Jessica said. "Very bad. Not to mention the poor fry cook." She leaned back, and the corner of her mouth twitched slightly. Joviality returned.

Is she screwing with me? Joshua thought. But what could he do about it? Nothing. All he could do was return to groveling. "I'm not a violent person," he said.

"I'm sure you're not," Jessica replied, her words dripped in sarcasm. Her mouth quirked.

Joshua clenched his fists. He so desperately wanted to beat the pompous expression off of Jessica's face, but that would serve to prove his last statement to be a lie.

"I can tell this is hard for you, Josh," Jessica said.

Joshua saw the twinkle in Jessica's eyes. She was seriously enjoying baiting him.

"You don't like being here, do you?" Jessica went on.

Joshua didn't bother to respond.

"You strike me," Jessica continued, "as someone who'd rather…I don't know…dig their own eye out with a spoon than ask for help."

Joshua stood up. "You know what? Forget this." He started to turn away from Jessica's desk.

"I think I do have a job for you," Jessica said finally.

Joshua rotated his head back toward Jessica. But he remained standing.

"Come on," Jessica said. "I like to make jokes. A little levity lightens the mood. Why don't you sit down?"

Joshua crossed his arms and begrudgingly sat back down in his seat. He looked down at the woman behind the tacky desk. "You…think you have a job for me?" he asked.

Jessica tilted back in her chair. "It's a security gig," she said. "Full disclosure: it's not great. 'High turnover' is what we in the business call it. But you'd get to be your own boss…sort of. And you only have to worry about one thing."

Joshua waited. He suspected Jessica was still toying with him.

"All you'd have to do is keep people out," Jessica finally said. "And keep the place tidy."

"That's two things," Joshua said.

A muscle twitched at the corner of Jessica's eye. The right side of her jaw bulged briefly.

That's what it feels like to be messed with, Joshua thought. Deal with it.

"You want the job or not?" Jessica asked.

Joshua shifted his feet. He tentatively allowed himself to feel a little anticipation. "How's the pay?"

Jessica snorted. "Not great. But…the hours are worse."

Joshua's anticipation dissolved into disappointment. Bad hours meant nights.

"I can't do nights," Joshua muttered.

Jessica cocked her head. "Excuse me?"

"I can't do nights," Joshua repeated, loud enough for Jessica to hear this time.

Jessica picked up her mug and took a long, noisy slurp of coffee. Joshua inhaled the smell of coffee beans but wrinkled his nose when he once again caught the strange stench that wafted from Jessica.

"Why can't you do nights?" Jessica asked.

Joshua wasn't about to try to explain his situation to her. It wasn't her business. It was personal. So, Joshua said nothing.

Silence grew into such a commanding presence that it felt like a third person had stepped into the office. Jessica attempted to stare down Joshua. And Joshua held Jessica's gaze, not moving a muscle.

Jessica finally gave in. "That's a shame," she said. She then reached out and pulled open the desk drawer in front of her lean stomach. She rummaged in the drawer. Joshua heard a clatter, a rustle, and a metallic thunk. Finally, Jessica plucked out a business card. She held it out over her desk. "In case you have a change of heart," she said.

Joshua didn't want to take the card. All he wanted was to get out of there. But he wasn't in a position to burn bridges. He took the card. Then he stomped out of Jessica's office.

After Joshua had left Jessica's office, he'd gone on his own job hunt. Who needed Jessica? Joshua could find his own job…or maybe not.

By the time Joshua gave up and headed toward home, the oppressive gray clouds were being consumed by a night that seemed to be in a big hurry to take over. Even though the day still held on to some light, the sun was nowhere to be seen. Just as well. Joshua wasn't in the mood for sunlight in his eyes.

As Joshua turned the corner onto his street, something began to happen to his car. It lurched, and Joshua had to stomp on the gas to keep the car from stalling out. He hated the car. An amalgamation of old parts from other cars, it might have been the ugliest vehicle on the road. If he hadn't been so grateful to have something with wheels and an engine, he'd have been embarrassed to be seen in the thing. But then again, he wasn't really that embarrassed. With him carrying around the regret he hauled everywhere he went, the usual things that embarrassed people didn't make a dent.

For instance, the neighborhood Joshua lived in was a bedraggled street of little more than shacks. It was originally built as makeshift housing for the dirt-poor residents of Cabo Poco, and the petite houses hadn't been much when they were put up. Now they were even less.

All the houses on the street were essentially identical - give or take the variety of faded colors and the various old cars, lawn equipment, toys, and other junk piled around them. Joshua and Ava's house was brownish-gray, or at least it used to be. It was more gray than brown now because it was so dirty. The shallow roof, originally black, was fuzzy with green moss. Like many of the houses on the street, Joshua's place had no front lawn. All it had was a collection of weeds and the ever-widening oil stain that Joshua's car added to every day.

Joshua turned into his driveway - a dirt and gravel expanse that held said oil stain. He turned off his car, and the engine coughed several times before expiring for the night. As soon as the engine went silent, Joshua pulled the key from the ignition. But he didn't move.

Sometimes Joshua got stuck in the moment. He couldn't convince himself that moving onto the next thing was worth his trouble.

It wasn't that Joshua was suicidal or anything. He wasn't ready to meet his maker…he wasn't even ready for that accounting. But Joshua often wished life came with time-outs. Or maybe freeze-frames. It would've been helpful to have a remote so he could stop time and catch his breath.

Nearby, an engine revved. The sound kick-started Joshua again. He opened his car door, got out, and loped up to his front porch…if it could be called that. It was only a three-foot-square rise of concrete under a miniscule overhang that led to a door with peeling, dirty, white paint. A red sheet of paper was taped to the door.

Joshua grabbed the rusting doorknob with his right hand. With his left hand, he tore the paper off the door. He knew he didn't need to look at it, but he did anyway. It was like looking at a car wreck. Sometimes it was impossible to turn away from foulness.

The paper said exactly what Joshua expected it to say: NOTICE OF DELINQUENCY.

Tell me something I don't know, Joshua thought as he stuffed the paper in the pocket of his wrinkled black slacks and opened his front door.

Ann had heard Joshua's car pull up in front of the house. How could she not? The beater needed a new muffler, among many other things. When the engine's thunderous sputter had gone silent, Ann had waited to hear the car door slam shut. When it didn't, she knew that Joshua's day hadn't gone well. If only Ann could comfort him.

Ann snorted and turned up the volume on Joshua's TV. The TV was an old analog set, one with some really shitty reception. Continuous wiggles of static wormed across the screen, no matter what channel was on.

Ann was currently watching an old beauty shopping channel which she liked.

When Joshua had teased Ann about her addiction to the shopping channel, she had pretended that his words hadn't bothered her at all. Ann was good at pretending. Nonchalance was her go-to defense mechanism. When she wore a bored expression, moved languidly, and kept her words few and as apathetic as possible, no one knew what she was actually thinking or feeling. It made for good armor. Ann could never be hurt because she pretended that she was hurt-proof. Or at least that's what she told herself.

Ann finally heard Joshua's car door slam as her favorite hostess introduced the next product, a silver ring with a ruby-cut cubic zirconia stone. The ring was one in a line of "affordable" jewelry designed by the other woman on the screen, an ex-actress who probably now made more money selling rings and bracelets and necklaces than she'd ever earned from her B-movie roles. Both the hostess and ex-actress had big hair and fake tans, but Ann didn't mind that. The superficial fakery was part of the show's appeal for Ann. She enjoyed watching others put on the same kind of don't-look-at me show that she did.

"Not every guy can afford a real diamond," the hostess said, "so it's awesome that you've created this line of cubic zirconia engagement rings."

"Isn't it?" the ex-actress responded ever-so-humbly. "This particular ring is one of my favorites."

Even though Ann watched the shopping show obsessively, she didn't like all that much of what the channel hawked. The ring on the screen was gaudy in the extreme, and its price tag was laughably high.

"It's worth less than a wad of tinfoil," Ann told the screen.

Just then, Joshua came through the front door, and Ann quickly affected a bored, I-don't-give-a-shit-about-anything posture. Already reclining, she let her lids fall half-closed, and she made sure her feet were drooping over the edge of the sofa's sagging nutmeg-colored cushions. She quickly arranged the navy-blue shirt she wore with faded jeans so it revealed just the right amount of cleavage.

In her mind's eye, Ann assessed the picture she made. A slender five foot five, she was petite enough to look a lot more feminine and helpless than she was. Sometimes that annoyed her, but other times she liked to make it work for her. With large, wide-spaced eyes and mid-to-high cheekbones, Ann knew she was attractive enough. She had long dark hair that was thin and shiny. Guys went for that. Or at least most guys did.

The one guy that Ann cared about stepped into the shabby, stamp-sized living room. Ann gave him a limp wave. Not a care in the world. Doesn't matter at all that you don't see me.

Ann had given a lot of thought to why Joshua was immune to her charms. But at least she wasn't ugly, and she was only a few years younger than him. She wasn't dumb or obnoxious or anything else of that sort. If anything, she was smarter than Joshua. She was taking social sciences classes at Naranja Academy, and sometimes she even read a book for fun in between marathon sessions of watching the shopping channel.

"Hey, Annie," Joshua said.

Ann tried to ignore the way her shoulders tightened when Joshua used her nickname. She had been trying to wean people off that name for years. She didn't want to be Annie. She just wanted to be Ann. Not some perky, sophisticated Annie. Unfortunately, "Ann" wasn't catching on. To everyone but herself, Ann was Annie.

"There's a little pizza in the microwave," Ann told Joshua. "Should still be warm if you're hungry."

Joshua dropped onto the red vinyl seat of one of the chrome chairs next to the small tan-colored kitchen. He looked toward the small microwave that sat on the counter in between the old squat refrigerator and the dingy, white-porcelain sink. Ann had left half of the microwaved pizza in a plastic pan on the other side of the counter.

"Did Ava eat?" Joshua asked.

Ann swung her legs off the sofa and raised an eyebrow at Joshua. "What do you think?"

Joshua gave Ann a half-grin. Something about the grin got past Ann's normal defenses. Her gaze landed on the ugly ring on the TV, and she sighed. Before she could think about what she was saying, she blurted, "I wish someone would buy me a ring."

Joshua said nothing.

Immediately mortified at her slip, Ann stood up, switched off the TV, and picked up her jacket and old black leather backpack from the end of the sofa. Keeping her face turned away from Joshua, Ann said, "Ava's been in her room all evening. She's yakking away with those friends of hers."

Ann glanced at Joshua in time to see him frown. She hurriedly went on. "She's getting really good, by the way. At drawing?"

Joshua grunted as he pulled a crumpled piece of red paper from his pocket. Ann knew what that was. She was surprised he was reading it.

She crossed a few feet from the sofa to the kitchen table. She paused behind Joshua and looked down at him. She liked being this close to him. He smelled really good, not sweet like cologne or anything. He smelled like a man. Just clean and simple.

"Y'all should get a big Pokémon," Ann said. "A really big one, like a Garganacl, and keep it outside."

Joshua stood up; the skin crumpled between his brows. "Huh?"

Ann pointed at the delinquency notice. "We used to get those, too," she said. "Then we got a Garganacl. Poof. No more notices."

The furrows between Joshua's brows deepened, but otherwise his expression didn't change. "I'll keep that in mind," he said.

Ann shrugged. She didn't care. She headed toward the front door. Just before she reached for the doorknob, she stopped and spun back to look at Joshua. "I almost forgot," she said. "Your aunt called."

Joshua made a snorting sound.

"Something about lawyers and you'd be there tomorrow or else?" Ann went on.

Joshua dropped his head into his hands. Ann stared at his long fingers and the thick hair between them. Her own hand twitched, wanting so much to reach out to him and…

Ann got a grip on herself. She turned back toward the door. "Well, see ya," she said as she opened it and stepped outside. She tried not to let it bother her at Joshua didn't say goodbye.