The Last Stand of Haviland Dinwiddie

Chapter 4

By Dabeagle

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I started a load of laundry and then decided to check in on the paperwork I'd filled out the night before. I walked into the shop, and Hav glanced up from behind the counter.

“Everything okay?” he asked.

Momentarily confused, I nodded. “Yes. Do I look worried or something?”

He shook his head. “Old building. Sometimes things go wonky. Electric. Plumbing. Meth lab.”

I stared for a moment.

“Just kidding.” He paused. “The electric's pretty solid.” He smiled.

I laughed a little. “I just came down to see Sandy about the paperwork Daphne had me fill out last night.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said, settling down on a stool. “Where have you worked before?”

I shifted on my feet. “Never had a job before.” I decided not to add that I hadn't been allowed to have a job.

“Oh. Well, that means I don't have any bad habits to break you of.” He smiled a little bit. “Rigby'll probably give you some, though.”

I tilted my head to think about that for a second. “Bad habits you mean?”

“He's squirrelly. Also nuttier than squirrel shit.” He smiled again. “I like symmetry.” He glanced over his shoulder. “Sandy! Put your bra on and come out here.”

“No!” she called out, then broke into her smoky laugh. She appeared from the office, grinning at Hav, and maybe because he'd brought it up, I could see she clearly wasn't wearing a bra. She saw me and held an arm out in front of Hav. “Here's your one chance! Take it and run!” Then she doubled up laughing over her joke.

“I think Daphne would hunt me down. She knows where I live,” I said, smiling uncertainly at them. “Um, are you married?”

“To her?”

“To him?”

They both made faces and then spoke over each other, tossing digs back and forth. I watched them with some amusement until Sandy lifted a middle finger at him. “Know what this is?” Then she started waving all her fingers. “Here's a whole flock of 'em!”

“Twat? I cunt hear you.”

“Eh, you'll finger it out,” she replied and then burst out laughing, then starting to cough.

Hav looked at me. “She buys the cheap cigarettes so she can save for her iron lung.”

“Shut up.”

I decided not to ask what an iron lung was.

“I'm going to put you on a couple of nights in different areas so you can learn where everything is and what each area does,” Sandy said. “But the number one rule is we drop everything to help the customer.”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Come on in back, and we'll get you penciled in,” she said. I slipped past Hav and into the back office. There were two desks in a small space facing away from each other. Both had papers all over them. One had a PC, and Sandy sat down there. “Okay, we'll put you in the back for a few nights – oh, how about tonight? We got a shipment today, so they can use an extra hand.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I can do that.”

“Okay. Uh, don't wear anything nice, okay? Jeans and a tee shirt. We'll give you a little vest; you don't want to wear your school clothes.”

I really didn't like the idea of wearing a tee shirt, but I liked even less the idea of damaging my clothes.

“You'll work with Paul tonight in the back to pack up orders that are being picked up or delivered tomorrow,” she continued.

“Um, weird question,” I said.

“I love those! What is it?” she asked, laughing, of course. She seemed to laugh about everything.

“Well, Rigby was concerned about losing hours? Maybe getting fired? Daphne said that wasn't a thing, but she's not in charge so....”

“Don't tell her that! Girl practically thinks she owns the place!” More laughter. Was it a nervous laugh? Was she jovial to the point of...what, even? I had no idea. “It's sweet for you to consider Rigby, but I think he thinks that because Hav gives him a hard time. Okay, go home and change, have something to eat, come back at five. Sound good?”

“I'll be here,” I said with a nod. Hav was helping a customer with something, so I headed back up to the apartment. After getting through my first day, and being kind of excited to start a job that evening, I stretched out on my bed and listened to music for a bit and let my mind wander. I wasn't surprised that I'd been judged for my clothes; that had happened at my old school too. If we'd been able to afford it, I think my father would have sent me to a private school, but as it was I'd been in public. I'd always wanted to fit in, but my upbringing had made me an outsider; when people realized my father was a cop, that only got worse.

I'd been looking forward to shedding that, to getting to find out who I could be away from him. I hadn't thought that originally. It wasn't until that final fight, the courtroom drama and us slipping away while he was required to wear an ankle monitor and stay away from us that I began to think about who I might become. I wasn't thinking of anything big, like an athlete or scientist, just...could I have friends? Would I be popular?

Now I understood that my father was still controlling me, and falling into the situation with my clothing at school was an example of that. It wasn't like I was just going to buy a new wardrobe, but maybe I could start to modify some of my choices within what I had – and that would start by not wearing a polo to work that night.

“Honey, why don't you have something to eat before work?” my mother asked, poking her head in the open door.

“Okay.” I joined her in the kitchen, and we had leftovers from the night before.

“So are you excited? First job?” she asked, smiling.

I nodded. “Yeah. Little nervous.”

“Did you make any friends today? Or anyone that might be eventually?”

I nodded for a moment as I finished chewing. “I think so? I mean there's a few people that are friendly, so maybe?”

“I'm stuck in this apartment, so don't keep your mother hanging! Tell me, tell me,” she said with a grin.

I laughed a little. “It's nothing crazy. Daphne and Rigby work downstairs. Tony's Daphne's boyfriend – you met them at the school.”

“They seemed nice,” she said with a nod. “Tell me about Rigby.”

“Oh, you saw him too, actually,” I said with a laugh. “Remember that guy that was in trouble when we went to the school for registration?”

She frowned. “The one that was yelling at that girl?”

“She was yelling too,” I pointed out. “She'd cheated on him, and they were breaking up. But yeah, that's Rigby.”

“I don't know,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“He's not like Dad,” I said quietly. “I've talked to him outside of that; he's harmless.”

She smiled weakly. “Well, I have an online interview tomorrow morning, so hopefully I'll be working soon.”

“Oh, that's good. You said it's a help desk?”

She nodded. “It's something for a few different retailers, a line people call for issues. I'll need some training, but it's fully remote.”

“That's good.”

I swapped my clothes to the dryer and asked my mom to get them later, since I was headed downstairs to work. I felt a little strange for a bit wearing the tee shirt, but I forgot once I got down to the store.

“Yay! You got hired!” Daphne said.

“Wait, I thought you were the hiring manager? That's what Sandy said,” I replied with a little smile.

“They just need a little push sometimes,” she replied.

“Sandy said I'd be working with Paul tonight? Packaging orders for pick up tomorrow?”

“Yeah. We get shipments on Tuesday, so a lot of people come in today and tomorrow to get things. Come on, I'll walk you back real quick.”

“I'll take him,” Hav said, emerging from the office area. “I'm going back there anyway. Make sure Paul's not sleeping in a corner.”

Daphne rolled her eyes at me, and I nodded before falling in behind Hav. We walked to the back of the store and through a set of double door into a large, warehouse kind of space. It seemed bigger with the ceiling being unfinished, unlike the drop ceiling in the retail part of the store. Hav introduced me to Paul who he said would keep me busy, then he started checking the order tickets against what was done already.

“Hey, kid. Let me show you how this works,” Paul said. He was thin, with a bit of hair around the sides of his head but bald on top. What hair he did have was starting to go gray. I followed along as he showed me where the printed order tickets were kept and then walked me around to the various areas where items were kept in order to assemble the order.

“This only happens once a week?” I asked.

“Orders happen every day,” he replied. “We get replenishment on Tuesdays, so sometimes something a customer was waiting on will come in. Mostly we organize things and get them ready for pick up.”

We worked steadily, and I started to get a feel for where things were located and Paul's method for arranging things so the order could be found the next day. As we worked, Rigby walked into the back, and Hav pointed at a box and said something I couldn't hear. In a little bit it became clear that he was assembling a wagon, and I stopped to observe when Paul went over to find out why Rigby was swearing so much.

“This tire!” Rigby complained. “I got everything together, but this tire won't hold air.”

“Lemme see,” Paul told him and picked up the small rubber tire. He placed the air nozzle to the plastic stem and tried to fill the tire. The tire inflated a bit, but as soon as he removed the air nozzle, the air could be heard exiting the tire. “Okay. I don't think the tire's bad,” Paul muttered. He filled it again and then held his hand near the plastic tube as the tire deflated, and he nodded. “Bad valve.”

“What valve?” Rigby asked.

“This here,” Paul said, pointing the the filler tube. “See that little pin there? It's a valve on a spring. When you put the air nozzle in, it pushes that down and opens the valve. When you take the air nozzle out, that valve should close, and that keeps the air in the tire. That valve is bad, and it's letting the air out.”

Rigby grunted. “Can we fix it?”

“Oh yeah,” Paul said with a nod. “Harv, grab that blue tool box under the bench there?”

I nodded. As I went to comply, I heard Rigby say, “He doesn't like Harv. We call him E.”

I rolled my eyes at Rigby, and he grinned like a little shit. I put the toolbox on the bench near Paul, and he dug inside, pulling out a small plastic container and a metal tube.

“This tool here takes the valve out,” he said, sliding the metal tube, a tool I now knew, inside the filler tube of the tire. “Riggy, grab a new valve out of the box there, would ya?”

I crossed my arms and smiled. “Yeah, Riggy.”

He flipped me off while grinning, then grabbed the new valve as Paul extracted the old one. Paul studied the old valve and then said, “Yeah, bad seal.” He took the new valve from Rigby and screwed it down. “Try that.” He handed the tire back to Rigby. This time the tire filled without issue. Rigby said he could finally finish the cart and went back to his task. Paul told me to take five while he went to have a smoke.

“Let's go bug Daphne,” Rigby said, setting the cart down and using the handle to pull it by. I trailed behind him to the front of the store. There were a few people on the sales floor grabbing various items, and Daphne was checking someone out, so I followed Rigby out front, where he positioned the cart and then ran a metal cable through the bottom of the cart and locked it.

“That'll keep the locals from stealing it too easy,” Rigby declared.

“That a big problem?”

“Shit. People around here steal like it's their job,” he said with a laugh.

Not sure what to say next, I asked, “So how long were you and your girlfriend dating?”

He scratched his head and looked a little embarrassed. “About a month. Just before school started we hung out a little. I mean, I knew her – we all know each other around here. Not sure why I thought it would be any different.”

I nodded. “Did that thing for school go in all right? What you were working on in class?”

“Oh, yeah. I think so. I just couldn't do it, because my laptop was dead.” He shrugged. “Lost power overnight. Shit happens.”

Thinking of the other assignments he was missing, I wasn't so sure. “Truth.”

“So you told Kate she was fat?” he asked, smiling widely. “I'd a liked to been there for that.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Why do I think this is going to end up being a big deal?”

“Eh. Her and her two friends just like to start shit. Fighting with them is kind of a lose, lose. It's like that thing Hav says sometimes about wrestling with a pig – the pig likes it, and you both get dirty.”

I grinned. “Did you just call them pigs? And you're giving me a hard time for implying one was overweight?”

“Pigs are clean animals,” Rigby said defensively. “Plus, you know, no need to fat shame.”

“Whoa, fat shame? Easy, Riggy,” I teased.

“You brought up the idea she was pregnant, E, so let's not pretend it wasn't about weight.” He raised an eyebrow while grinning.

“Look, maybe you have a small point, but I think this is more that you like 'em bigger. I saw your ex,” I told him, enjoying the back and forth.

“Bruh.” He dropped his chin and looked at me. “As a guy with a smaller build, I have nightmares about being handcuffed to a bed when one of these girls has a stroke and I'm stuck underneath a dead body.”

I widened my eyes and burst out laughing. “That is so weirdly specific!”

“Don't make fun of my fears, bruh,” he replied, giggling.

“I mean,” I said, trying to master my giggles, “you're not that small.”

“Lot of big girls in town,” he said as we headed back inside.

“Wait, and you're giving me shit about fat shaming?”

“What are you two laughing about?” Daphne asked as we got closer to the counter.

“E's a fat-phobe,” Rigby said.

“I am not,” I replied with a roll of my eyes. “Rigby is trying to make me sound bad.”

“I'm going to make him sound unemployed if he doesn't get back to work,” Hav called out from the office area.

“I just tied that cart up out front!” Rigby protested.

“Go help Paul, then,” Hav replied. “Don't corrupt the new guy.”

He sighed dramatically, and we headed back into the warehouse. The rest of my shift was unremarkable. I got a pretty good idea where things were in the back and more or less did what Paul told me to, so I wasn't really engaging my brain that much. Rigby was kind of entertaining, though in the back of my mind I wondered why he wasn't doing his work at school. The more I engaged with him, the less he struck me as dumb.

^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^

School the rest of the week was more of the same; some minor barbs with the coven, lunch with Tony and his friends, an afternoon class with both Daphne and Rigby and then home, sometimes working a shift. I ran a little, but mostly kept to myself. I liked Tony, Daphne and Rigby, but I didn't really know them. I wanted to, but it made me anxious to step out of the bubble my father had built around me. Work was pretty significant from that point of view, and I felt like I was getting comfortable with that.

I suppose things could have kept going like that, maybe kind of slowly letting me adjust, but I was eager for more. Anxious, but eager. I wanted to have more social interactions, but I wasn't sure how much I could handle. Inevitably things will turn personal, and what do I say? Mom and I are hiding from my abusive dad? Maybe I could tell them about the last night we were all together as a 'family'?

Yeah, I could. I could describe the fear and chaos. I could talk about the screams and the blood. I could talk about calling the state police instead of the local cops, since the locals were probably on my dad's side. I could talk about the feeling of getting into an ambulance with my mom and the embarrassment – the shame – of having my body photographed to show off the bruising. Listening to the doctors describe the evidence in the x-rays of broken ribs that had healed.

I closed my eyes and tried to even out my breath. How could I have more and not cross that? Or at least not yet? Was there a polite way? Something these new friends would accept?

Sunday I opened up my school laptop to double check I hadn't missed any assignments, not that I thought I had; I was just bored. When I went to log in, the account name box showed my saved login and another – Rigby. I really had no right. On the other hand, maybe Rigby could use someone who reminded him of stuff that was due? Maybe no specific stuff, but if I looked and saw he had things due, I could ask about his school work? Besides, maybe the power thing at his house was a regular thing? Or maybe he treated his school laptop like I treated my headphones and was just crap at remembering to charge it, so it wasn't ready when he could do his work?

I knew I was talking myself into being nosy, but I did it anyway. Using his saved login, I opened his school account. His grades were still bad, of course, so I took a look at what he had overdue. Scanning the items by class, I noticed his math grade was okay; it was other things he seemed to be having trouble with. There was a woodworking class he was doing okay in, but English, social and science were failing. On a whim I opened up the list of English work he had due and clicked on the first item that was past due.

The first item was a digital worksheet that was straightforward multiple choice questions on a short story. Curious, I followed the link to the short story and read through it in about ten minutes. I wished the thing would tell me if the worksheet had been opened before – like if he'd tried and not finished or if he'd just skipped out. With nothing else to do, I answered the questions on the worksheet and submitted it. I found similar overdue items in both social and science, and I did those as well. It didn't take me more than an hour, and I turned in about five things for him.

I was seriously confused though. Why wasn't he doing his work? I felt confident he could handle it, so what was it? I hated to think it was just being lazy; he worked hard, despite what Hav likes to say. He seemed engaged with the world around him. What was up there?

My mom asked me to keep things down as she wanted to nap; she had a slight fever and wanted to rest. Eventually I got bored enough to go for a run, then showered and headed down to the store. They had shorter hours on Sundays, but Daphne was there.

“Hey, new guy,” she said with a smile. “I was going to text you to come visit me, because it's dead and I”m bored, but I don't have your number.”

I chuckled. “Well, that I can fix.” We spent a few minutes plugging each other's socials into our phones. Mine were just accounts to like things and to communicate; I had no pictures to share or videos to post.

“Ugh. I have to start working on an article analysis for social,” she said with a sigh. “I've read the article like five times, but it's so boring. I get we have an economy and it's important, but it's really tough to stick to reading an article about it and understanding it all.”

I wished I could ask about that in relation to Rigby's work, but I wasn't sure how to do that. “Maybe you should talk to someone that's good with numbers? Sometimes it just needs to be explained in a different way.”

“Oh, it's just dry,” she said. “I have to force myself to focus.”

Nodding, I asked where Tony was.

“He's at his cousin's house. Birthday party. So glad I'm working; his cousin is so meh.”

I smiled. “I'm surprised I made the cut – you don't seem to like many people.”

“You know what?” she said with a smile. “I don't! But...maybe it's this town, but people just seem to be so...selfish.”

“Have you known Rigby a long time? You said you and Tony have been together about a year.”

“Yeah, I've known Rigby on and off since grade school. He does dumb stuff, but he's good where it counts, I think.” She brushed her hair from the side of her face and over her shoulder. “He's just drowning here, though, like so many other people. What gets me is how few of them understand they're drowning.”

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

She leaned forward, resting her arms on the counter. “There's no future here. It's not like you're going to grow up and get a good job or meet new people that open your world. Instead you get people with nowhere to go, no job prospects – like, our main exports here are unwed mothers and deadbeat dads.”

I widened my eyes. “I mean...is that from your life?”

“My parents divorced, but they were together for like ten years first. It was pretty simple. I split time, and they were always good about putting me first, really. But then there are girls like Mari, whose mom also had her young. Her dad works somewhere outside of town, and I think all she really knows about him is her mom had sex with him and there's some money every month that comes in.” She paused. “I mean, I think she knows her mom had sex with him.”

I snorted and started to laugh, and she joined me.

“So no, my parents were better than some others. Like fucking Rigby's parents can't keep the lights on half the time.”

“Yeah, he um, was behind on some of his school work,” I said. “He borrowed my school laptop in class the other day to turn some stuff in.”

She shook her head. “I don't know. I mean, I know Rigby, but I don't know him. We don't hang out on our own time or anything.

“Oh? Huh. I know I've only been here like a few days, but you guys seem to get along here. I thought you were friends. Or closer friends, I guess.”

She tilted her head, and I thought her expression was thoughtful. “There's a lot of...no, let me start over.” She straightened up and moved her gaze to me. “I just had about six discussions in my head. First I was like, why are you questioning me, and then I wondered why I felt like I was being questioned, and then I was wondering if I was supposed to bring my mom something from the store tonight, and I forgot for a second what we were talking about.”

I looked at her for a moment and then started to laugh, and she joined me, though looking a little embarrassed.

“Best thing I can say is I have nothing against Rigby. I just don't think it ever seemed like we had much in common. Tony's a tall, skinny nerd, and I like that – especially the nerd part. He's curious about things outside of this town and just things in general.”

I held a hand up. “I wasn't trying to criticize or anything.”

“You're not,” she said, waving a hand dismissively. “It's just, Rigby and I have always been friendly, but never actual friends. Partly that was because he was hanging around with Gordo, the ex-best friend. Gordo's just a stupid accident waiting to happen, and I don't mean pregnancy.” She raised her eyebrows. “Gordo does things like try to light burps on fire, but that's not enough. Then he wants to try doing one of those things where people spray something from their mouth and light it on fire? Instead Gordo just, you know, sets things on fire? Just about the only thing he hasn't wrecked is his car, and that's because he loves that piece of shit.”

“I...guess I'll pass on meeting Gordo.”

“I would,” she said, and then adopted a more curious tone. “Maybe Rigby will be someone else without Gordo's influence. We'll see.”

“So...what's your future, then? Not here?”

“Huh uh,” she shook her head. “I'm applying for every scholarship, every grant – I'm going to school, not because I love school, but because it's somewhere else.”

I nodded, understanding. I'd felt something like that living in my old town, though for different reasons.

Eventually I said good night and went back upstairs. My mom was still lying down, so I sat down to watch something on TV, but my mind wasn't on the show. I kept wondering about why Rigby didn't do his work. It's stupid, but my dad had made me paranoid about making sure my work was done, and it would feel like ants were crawling under my skin to leave that much work undone.

I was brought back to the real world by my mom emerging from her room, coughing.

“That sounds bad, Mom,” I said, unable to keep the concern from my voice.

“Ugh, it feels bad,” she said. “Hang on.” She went into the bathroom and I waited, wondering if I should try to make something for her. I heard the sink running and then she came back out. “Honey, let me give you a list. Would you get me a few things from the store?”

Relieved to be able to do something, I stood quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

“Okay. Good. Thank you,” she said almost absently. “I want to make some chicken soup – none of the canned stuff. I also want some menthol rub for my chest and nose.” She covered her mouth to cough. “A bag of cough drops, too.”

“Sure, Mom.”

She wrote down her list of ingredients and handed me her card. I tucked both in my pocket, made sure I had my keys and wallet, and went down to the car. Like the day we'd arrived, the sun looked pretty around the buildings as it set, and I started out for the store. I stopped for a traffic light and tapped my fingers on the wheel, thinking of the items I was getting, even though I had the list in my pocket. As the light changed, someone came running around the corner on the sidewalk. As I pulled through the light I noted swirling lights down the street and recognized Rigby as the runner. I pulled over and honked.

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