Poem: "Work Worth Doing"
This poem is spillover from the June 4, 2019 Poetry Fishbowl. It was inspired by prompts from ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
readera, zeeth_kyrah, readera, and 
zianuray. It also fills the "Home" square in my 6-1-19 card for the Cottoncandy Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with fuzzyred, technoshaman, and book_worm5. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series. This directly follows "The Smallest Decisions," "If You Don't Stick Up for Them," "Getting Close to a New Guy," and "The Supreme Quality for Leadership," so read those first or this won't make much sense.
"Work Worth Doing"
[Tuesday, April 10, 2012]
Shiv woke in a big soft bed
so unfamiliar that at first he had
no idea how he wound up in it.
Then he tried to move, and
a wave of pain over his back
brought it all rushing back to him.
Turtledove drugging him, and
him getting back at her for it.
Boss Batir screaming at him
for messing up a medic, and then
strapping the skin off his back.
The long, miserable bus ride
from Lincoln to Omaha.
Meeting Brown Bottle
at the bus station, then
following him home.
Meeting Boss White at
Blues Moon, and then ...
Shiv sighed at the memory
of Boss White's mind wrapping
around his own, the touch
somehow soothing and
terrifying at the same time.
He wasn't used to wanting
things as desperately as that.
It was all so new to him.
Shiv wasn't sure exactly how
he had gotten into this bed,
but he figured they meant
for him to be here -- maybe
he'd passed out on them
and they put him in it.
All that mattered was
that he was warm and dry,
and not getting hassled.
That thought brought Shiv
scrambling upright, despite
pangs of protest from his back.
A quick check revealed that
none of his clothes had been
opened -- his belt was still on,
jeans fastened, and shoes tied.
The base of his back itched fiercely
where blood had soaked into
the waistband of his jeans.
Also, he really needed to pee.
Shiv pushed himself to his feet,
and the room did one slow spin.
He didn't fall over, so that was good,
but his back was just killing him.
Looking around, Shiv saw
that somebody had left
a covered glass of water
and two blue pills in
a tiny paper cup.
Under those lay
a piece of paper like
a prescription slip with
instructions written on it.
Shiv hesitated, tempted.
He really needed something
to kill the pain if he expected
to manage anything today, but
he damn well knew better than
to put random pills in his mouth.
Sighing in regret, Shiv bypassed
the pills and looked further.
It was a beautiful room.
The walls were covered
with musical scenes, and
an electric guitar hung
over the large bed.
There was a closet,
and beyond that a door.
Shiv dragged himself
to the door in hopes
of finding a bathroom.
When he opened it, he
almost ran into Boss White.
Shiv squeaked in dismay and
nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Easy there," Boss White said,
catching him by the elbow.
"Did you find the pills?"
"Yeah, but they're not
sealed," Shiv said.
Boss White chuckled.
"Well, that's because
the good stuff doesn't come
in a packet you can buy at
a gas station," he said. "We
may not have a patcher, but
we got a damn fine candy man."
"Who?" Shiv wondered.
"Brown Bottle," said Boss White.
"Go take your medicine. You
won't get any work done if
you can barely move."
"I don't want to sleep
the day away," Shiv said.
"You won't," Boss White said,
and gave Shiv a gentle nudge.
"Those are half-and-halfs. They
should keep you mostly comfortable,
but not knock you out or let you
forget that you're injured and
wind up hurting yourself."
Shiv hesitated, but then
a ripple of reassurance
washed across his mind.
The feeling was so unfamiliar
that it took a moment for him
to identify it as safety.
So he went back and
swallowed the pills.
"Well done," the boss said
when Shiv came out again.
"Give those half an hour or so
to kick in. If you don't feel
comfortable by then, you tell
Brown Bottle and he'll get
you something stronger."
"I'm a light touch," Shiv said.
"It doesn't take much for me."
He didn't usually mention that,
but it seemed like the sort of thing
that these people should know.
"Ah well, if you fall asleep, it's
our fault," Boss White said. "Don't
worry about timing -- Brown Bottle
can keep track of that for you. Just
tell him how you're feeling and he'll
do the drug math, he's good at that."
Shiv weighed the risk of letting
someone else do that right after
the shitstorm with Turtledove
against the probability of
fucking it up himself.
"Yeah, I guess," he said.
Boss White beckoned to Shiv.
"Yesterday we didn't have a chance
to give you much of a tour, so I'll start
here. My office is right across from
the guest room, then on your side
is the lunch room and kitchen."
Shiv's stomach gurgled a demand.
"That's okay, we'll get your breakfast
shortly," said Boss White. "Here's
the staff dottie, and beyond that is
the guest bathroom with a shower.
Don't get your back wet, just clean up
as best you can. If you need help, I'll
send Brown Bottle to give you a hand."
"I don't have anything clean to wear,"
Shiv said with a sigh. "Just this."
He didn't even know where
his t-shirt was, and he hated
running around topless.
"Look in the guest bathroom;
Brown brought you some stuff
from the storage building next door,"
said Boss White. "Later on, he can
take you there to pick out whatever else
you need to get started in town."
"Great," Shiv said, heading
into the guest bathroom.
It was pretty good size,
done in brown and cream tile.
The shower had a tall nozzle on
one end, and a shorter handheld one
on the other end above a bench.
On the shelf above the toilet sat
a brown paper bag with his name on it.
Inside, Shiv found a jogging suit worn soft
with many washings, which had probably
started out navy, now faded to foggy blue.
There was also a gray t-shirt, boxers,
socks, and a pair of blue shoes,
the kind that rolled up to pack.
A smaller bag held a comb, a razor,
a toothbrush, toothpaste, and other toiletries.
The soap was a sliver wrapped in paper, and
the shower supplies were in tiny bottles
boosted from various hotel chains.
Shiv double-checked that the door
was locked, then did his business.
It took a lot longer to peel off
his grungy clothes, and they left
deep red marks in his skin.
Shiv washed off as best he
could, moving slowly to avoid
alarming Boss White because
he didn't want Brown in here.
He found a bottle of lotion and
rubbed that over the red marks,
hoping they'd go away soon.
Shiv still felt glad that nobody had
messed with his clothes, though.
He got dressed, wincing at the pull
on his back, although it didn't hurt
as much as it had when he woke up.
At least the hoodie zipped open
so he could put it on easier.
Unsure what to do with
the dirty clothes, Shiv stuffed
them into the empty bag.
There was no shea butter
in his kit, and without it
his hair would frizz up.
Shiv had seen plenty of
black people around, so he
rummaged in the bathroom and
found some in the supplies there.
Hopefully nobody would miss the tiny dab
that Shiv needed to flatten his hair down.
As soon as Shiv left the bathroom,
Boss White was there to meet him.
"Is there, um, a laundromat around here?"
Shiv said, holding up the bag of laundry.
"You don't need to walk that far today,"
Boss White said. "Give it here, and
I'll have someone wash it for you."
"Wow," Shiv said, handing it over.
"Come upstairs," Boss White said.
"Cook will give you some breakfast."
Shiv followed him up a stairwell
painted black, with pictures of
jazz musicians done in white paint.
He heard the kitchen sounds first,
then smelled good food cooking.
It made Shiv's mouth water.
"Here's the rule about kitchen traffic,"
Boss White said. "Always look before
you walk in, because somebody might be
carrying hot stuff. If they are, you get out of
the way. Empty hands yield to full hands."
"Got it, boss," Shiv assured him.
Boss White led him into the kitchen.
"Cook, this is Shiv, he's new here.
Feed him, then send him down to me."
Cook was a big black man leaning over
a fragrant grill. "Hi, Shiv," he said.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Food?" Shiv said. "I can
eat just about anything."
The foster homes that offered
food first thing tended to suck less,
so this was an encouraging sign.
"Here, start with this," Cook said,
slopping up a bowl full of oatmeal
from a big pot of it on the stove.
"I'll fix you some bacon and eggs."
Shiv would've been plenty grateful
for the hot cereal alone, but he
sure wouldn't turn down more.
He scarfed down the oatmeal
just in time for Cook to put out
a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon,
and toast swimming with butter.
A jar of grape jelly thumped
onto the little wooden table
that barely fit into the kitchen.
Shiv used as much of it
as he could fit on his toast.
He barely managed to clean
his plate, there was so much food.
"All right, put the dishes in the sink,"
Cook said. "Time for a safety lecture."
Shiv cringed. "I suck at school,"
he said. "I'm stupid. I won't
remember it five minutes later."
Cook eyed him, then shook his head.
"Boss White don't hire many stupid people,"
he said. "You got eyes, so use 'em.
See the different colors of tape?"
"Yeah, so?" Shiv said, looking around.
"Yellow shows the walking lanes,"
Cook said. "You stay inside those for
now. Never run into a crowded kitchen
without looking, or you could bump into
someone carrying a pot of hot chili."
"Got it," Shiv said. "Don't run
into people carrying hot stuff."
"White tape around black mats shows
where the people stand," Cook said.
"Each one of those is a workstation."
Shiv could see how the yellow lines
led to the white ones, but kept work
outside the main flow of traffic.
"Safety equipment's in red-and-white,"
Cook went on, pointing to the first aid kit.
"Active hazards have black-and-yellow,
like the lye for making hominy. That stuff
will take your skin off if you get it on you."
"I like hominy," Shiv said softly. "It
tastes good, and it sticks to your ribs."
"Sho'nuff," Cook said, grinning at him.
"Now repeat what I just said about the tape."
Shiv was surprised to find that he could
remember it just fine, with the colors
right there on the floor and walls.
"Good job," Cook said. "Remember
where Boss White's office is?"
"Yeah, it's downstairs across
from the guest room," Shiv said.
"Get on back to him then,"
Cook said. "I got a kitchen
to run here, and I'm busy."
So Shiv went downstairs
and knocked tentatively
on the door of the office.
A black lady opened it
and beckoned him in.
"I'm Dymin," she said.
"I'm Boss White's secretary."
"Shiv," he said. "I'm new here."
"I remember you from last night,"
Dymin said. "Go on back now,
the boss is expecting you."
Shiv presented himself
in front of the big desk.
Boss White looked up from
his daybook and said, "It's
good to see you again, Shiv.
How are you doing? Did
you get enough breakfast?"
"Yeah, I'm stuffed," Shiv said.
"My back mostly quit bothering me,
unless I move the wrong way."
"That's as it should be,"
Boss White said, and waved
at a rolling chair. "Sit down."
Shiv sat, trying not to feel like
he was in a principal's office.
His superpower flick-flick-flicked at
the zipper pull on his hoodie anyhow.
"Relax," Boss White said, backing it
with a soft touch of telepathy that
made Shiv go boneless in his chair.
"We're just going to cover some basics.
We'll review all of it in a week or two
when you are actually sober."
"Okay," Shiv said. "What basics?"
"Let's start with what you can do,"
Boss White said. "Last night you listed
fighting, stealing, and mopping floors.
Do you know how to wait tables?
Set them with plates and silver?"
"No," Shiv said, wilting in place.
"I don't know much fancy stuff."
"Well, you'll learn," Boss White said.
Can you wash and dry dishes?"
"Yeah, if I have to," Shiv said.
"All right, we'll start you on
mopping and dishwashing duty,"
Boss White said. "You need a job
other than making trouble, which I don't
need made fresh every day like bread."
Shiv couldn't help it; he snickered.
"Sorry, boss," he said, ducking.
"I made a joke, Shiv, you're
allowed to laugh," Boss White said.
"Pay starts at minimum wage. You get
time-and-a-half for overtime past 40 hours
a week, double for holidays, and hazard pay
typically runs double to triple depending on
current risks, plus bonuses of course."
"Oh ... kay," Shiv said slowly.
His head spun. He wasn't
good with numbers or money.
They kind of scared him.
"Start where you are. You
learn more, you earn more,"
Boss White said. "That holds for
club work and street work alike.
Far and away the best prize that
life has to offer is the chance
to work hard at work worth doing."
"I like what I do," Shiv said.
"D'ruther bust heads and
nick things than mop, but
I'll take whatever I can get,
especially if the money's good."
"Don't worry, we'll sort it out,"
Boss White said. "Ask Dymin
if you need help with math."
Shiv just nodded. He was
afraid to bother the secretary,
though. She seemed fierce.
"I'm guessing you won't take to
a flop room very well, so you can
crash in the guest apartment until
you find a place of your own,"
Boss White said. "Dymin can
help you look for one later."
"I don't need much, just
a place to sleep and doors
that really lock," Shiv said.
"You deserve that and more,"
Boss White said, which just
bent Shiv's head again.
"So um ... what's the gang
like?" Shiv wondered.
"As you can tell from
the name, we're mixed race,
and I don't hold with prejudice
of any kind," Boss White said.
"I expect to teach you that too,
since I have to with most folks."
"I grew up in mixed houses,
or black ones, a lot of the time,"
Shiv said. "I'm smooth with it."
Boss White smiled. "That's good
to hear. I like it when my boys don't
have to unlearn a lot of bad habits."
Shiv was nothing but bad habits.
He didn't mention that, though.
"Some of us have superpowers,
although most don't," Boss White said.
"We got a membership at a gym, and
that's a perk you get too. You can
practice there, or ask Brown Bottle
to show you some good places."
"I'm good at what I do," Shiv said,
lifting his chin. "I can do my work!"
"That don't mean you got no room
for improvement," Boss White said.
"You'll practice just like everyone else."
"Yeah, boss," Shiv muttered.
"Now, I expect you to obey me
because I'm the boss," he said.
"Can you do that for me?"
Shiv looked down. He was
supposed to tell the truth,
but if he did, that would
get him canned for sure.
"Spit it out, and remember
what I told you about lying,"
Boss White ordered him.
"I can try, but ... I'm no good
at minding people," Shiv said.
"I always wind up in trouble
sooner or later, usually sooner.
S'why people dump me so fast."
"Finders keepers, losers weepers,"
Boss White said instantly. "We'll
just add obedience to the list of
things you can work on here.
Maybe you've just never had
anyone worth following before."
That was ... not wrong, Shiv realized.
"When you mess up, which everyone
does sometimes, then there will be
consequences --" Boss White said.
Shiv shied away, which made his back
bump against the chair, which hurt,
forcing him to flinch forward again.
"Settle down," Boss White said.
"I ain't like that fool Batir. If you make
an honest mistake, we'll work it out.
Screw around on purpose, or get
careless, and you'll find yourself
cleaning the johns for a few days --
which is a job that nobody wants.
I don't hit my boys. Understand?"
Shiv didn't understand, but he
wanted to. "Okay," he said.
"That's enough to go on for now,"
Boss White said. "We can go over
the details next week, and we'll
check in from time to time too,
in case you want to change
anything in our agreement.
How does that sound, Shiv?"
"Too good to be true,"
he said without thinking,
then winced. "Sorry."
"Well, give it a kick and see
if it falls over," Boss White said.
"You've heard about our gang,
so you know it's good enough
to last. The question is whether
it's good enough for you."
"I want it to be," Shiv said,
licking his lips. "I really do."
"It's an unwritten contract,
but binding as far as it goes,"
Boss White said. "Are you
willing to give us a fair try?
Don't shake on it if you
don't mean it, Shiv."
The boss got up and
walked around the desk,
then offered Shiv his hand.
"Yeah, boss," Shiv said,
his small pale hand vanishing
inside Boss White's big dark one.
"I'll come to work for you."
"In that case," Boss White said,
"Welcome home, Shiv."
Something inside him
cracked open at that, and
he didn't know what it was.
It hurt a little, but it also let in
more of the warm energy that
he was coming to recognize
as Boss White's signature.
Shiv never really had a home,
but he liked the idea of staying
in this quirky, colorful place.
"Home," he echoed. "Yeah, okay."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so the notes appear elsewhere.
readera, zeeth_kyrah, readera, and zianuray. It also fills the "Home" square in my 6-1-19 card for the Cottoncandy Bingo fest. This poem has been sponsored by a pool with fuzzyred, technoshaman, and book_worm5. It belongs to the Shiv thread of the Polychrome Heroics series. This directly follows "The Smallest Decisions," "If You Don't Stick Up for Them," "Getting Close to a New Guy," and "The Supreme Quality for Leadership," so read those first or this won't make much sense."Work Worth Doing"
[Tuesday, April 10, 2012]
Shiv woke in a big soft bed
so unfamiliar that at first he had
no idea how he wound up in it.
Then he tried to move, and
a wave of pain over his back
brought it all rushing back to him.
Turtledove drugging him, and
him getting back at her for it.
Boss Batir screaming at him
for messing up a medic, and then
strapping the skin off his back.
The long, miserable bus ride
from Lincoln to Omaha.
Meeting Brown Bottle
at the bus station, then
following him home.
Meeting Boss White at
Blues Moon, and then ...
Shiv sighed at the memory
of Boss White's mind wrapping
around his own, the touch
somehow soothing and
terrifying at the same time.
He wasn't used to wanting
things as desperately as that.
It was all so new to him.
Shiv wasn't sure exactly how
he had gotten into this bed,
but he figured they meant
for him to be here -- maybe
he'd passed out on them
and they put him in it.
All that mattered was
that he was warm and dry,
and not getting hassled.
That thought brought Shiv
scrambling upright, despite
pangs of protest from his back.
A quick check revealed that
none of his clothes had been
opened -- his belt was still on,
jeans fastened, and shoes tied.
The base of his back itched fiercely
where blood had soaked into
the waistband of his jeans.
Also, he really needed to pee.
Shiv pushed himself to his feet,
and the room did one slow spin.
He didn't fall over, so that was good,
but his back was just killing him.
Looking around, Shiv saw
that somebody had left
a covered glass of water
and two blue pills in
a tiny paper cup.
Under those lay
a piece of paper like
a prescription slip with
instructions written on it.
Shiv hesitated, tempted.
He really needed something
to kill the pain if he expected
to manage anything today, but
he damn well knew better than
to put random pills in his mouth.
Sighing in regret, Shiv bypassed
the pills and looked further.
It was a beautiful room.
The walls were covered
with musical scenes, and
an electric guitar hung
over the large bed.
There was a closet,
and beyond that a door.
Shiv dragged himself
to the door in hopes
of finding a bathroom.
When he opened it, he
almost ran into Boss White.
Shiv squeaked in dismay and
nearly tripped over his own feet.
"Easy there," Boss White said,
catching him by the elbow.
"Did you find the pills?"
"Yeah, but they're not
sealed," Shiv said.
Boss White chuckled.
"Well, that's because
the good stuff doesn't come
in a packet you can buy at
a gas station," he said. "We
may not have a patcher, but
we got a damn fine candy man."
"Who?" Shiv wondered.
"Brown Bottle," said Boss White.
"Go take your medicine. You
won't get any work done if
you can barely move."
"I don't want to sleep
the day away," Shiv said.
"You won't," Boss White said,
and gave Shiv a gentle nudge.
"Those are half-and-halfs. They
should keep you mostly comfortable,
but not knock you out or let you
forget that you're injured and
wind up hurting yourself."
Shiv hesitated, but then
a ripple of reassurance
washed across his mind.
The feeling was so unfamiliar
that it took a moment for him
to identify it as safety.
So he went back and
swallowed the pills.
"Well done," the boss said
when Shiv came out again.
"Give those half an hour or so
to kick in. If you don't feel
comfortable by then, you tell
Brown Bottle and he'll get
you something stronger."
"I'm a light touch," Shiv said.
"It doesn't take much for me."
He didn't usually mention that,
but it seemed like the sort of thing
that these people should know.
"Ah well, if you fall asleep, it's
our fault," Boss White said. "Don't
worry about timing -- Brown Bottle
can keep track of that for you. Just
tell him how you're feeling and he'll
do the drug math, he's good at that."
Shiv weighed the risk of letting
someone else do that right after
the shitstorm with Turtledove
against the probability of
fucking it up himself.
"Yeah, I guess," he said.
Boss White beckoned to Shiv.
"Yesterday we didn't have a chance
to give you much of a tour, so I'll start
here. My office is right across from
the guest room, then on your side
is the lunch room and kitchen."
Shiv's stomach gurgled a demand.
"That's okay, we'll get your breakfast
shortly," said Boss White. "Here's
the staff dottie, and beyond that is
the guest bathroom with a shower.
Don't get your back wet, just clean up
as best you can. If you need help, I'll
send Brown Bottle to give you a hand."
"I don't have anything clean to wear,"
Shiv said with a sigh. "Just this."
He didn't even know where
his t-shirt was, and he hated
running around topless.
"Look in the guest bathroom;
Brown brought you some stuff
from the storage building next door,"
said Boss White. "Later on, he can
take you there to pick out whatever else
you need to get started in town."
"Great," Shiv said, heading
into the guest bathroom.
It was pretty good size,
done in brown and cream tile.
The shower had a tall nozzle on
one end, and a shorter handheld one
on the other end above a bench.
On the shelf above the toilet sat
a brown paper bag with his name on it.
Inside, Shiv found a jogging suit worn soft
with many washings, which had probably
started out navy, now faded to foggy blue.
There was also a gray t-shirt, boxers,
socks, and a pair of blue shoes,
the kind that rolled up to pack.
A smaller bag held a comb, a razor,
a toothbrush, toothpaste, and other toiletries.
The soap was a sliver wrapped in paper, and
the shower supplies were in tiny bottles
boosted from various hotel chains.
Shiv double-checked that the door
was locked, then did his business.
It took a lot longer to peel off
his grungy clothes, and they left
deep red marks in his skin.
Shiv washed off as best he
could, moving slowly to avoid
alarming Boss White because
he didn't want Brown in here.
He found a bottle of lotion and
rubbed that over the red marks,
hoping they'd go away soon.
Shiv still felt glad that nobody had
messed with his clothes, though.
He got dressed, wincing at the pull
on his back, although it didn't hurt
as much as it had when he woke up.
At least the hoodie zipped open
so he could put it on easier.
Unsure what to do with
the dirty clothes, Shiv stuffed
them into the empty bag.
There was no shea butter
in his kit, and without it
his hair would frizz up.
Shiv had seen plenty of
black people around, so he
rummaged in the bathroom and
found some in the supplies there.
Hopefully nobody would miss the tiny dab
that Shiv needed to flatten his hair down.
As soon as Shiv left the bathroom,
Boss White was there to meet him.
"Is there, um, a laundromat around here?"
Shiv said, holding up the bag of laundry.
"You don't need to walk that far today,"
Boss White said. "Give it here, and
I'll have someone wash it for you."
"Wow," Shiv said, handing it over.
"Come upstairs," Boss White said.
"Cook will give you some breakfast."
Shiv followed him up a stairwell
painted black, with pictures of
jazz musicians done in white paint.
He heard the kitchen sounds first,
then smelled good food cooking.
It made Shiv's mouth water.
"Here's the rule about kitchen traffic,"
Boss White said. "Always look before
you walk in, because somebody might be
carrying hot stuff. If they are, you get out of
the way. Empty hands yield to full hands."
"Got it, boss," Shiv assured him.
Boss White led him into the kitchen.
"Cook, this is Shiv, he's new here.
Feed him, then send him down to me."
Cook was a big black man leaning over
a fragrant grill. "Hi, Shiv," he said.
"What do you want to eat?"
"Food?" Shiv said. "I can
eat just about anything."
The foster homes that offered
food first thing tended to suck less,
so this was an encouraging sign.
"Here, start with this," Cook said,
slopping up a bowl full of oatmeal
from a big pot of it on the stove.
"I'll fix you some bacon and eggs."
Shiv would've been plenty grateful
for the hot cereal alone, but he
sure wouldn't turn down more.
He scarfed down the oatmeal
just in time for Cook to put out
a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon,
and toast swimming with butter.
A jar of grape jelly thumped
onto the little wooden table
that barely fit into the kitchen.
Shiv used as much of it
as he could fit on his toast.
He barely managed to clean
his plate, there was so much food.
"All right, put the dishes in the sink,"
Cook said. "Time for a safety lecture."
Shiv cringed. "I suck at school,"
he said. "I'm stupid. I won't
remember it five minutes later."
Cook eyed him, then shook his head.
"Boss White don't hire many stupid people,"
he said. "You got eyes, so use 'em.
See the different colors of tape?"
"Yeah, so?" Shiv said, looking around.
"Yellow shows the walking lanes,"
Cook said. "You stay inside those for
now. Never run into a crowded kitchen
without looking, or you could bump into
someone carrying a pot of hot chili."
"Got it," Shiv said. "Don't run
into people carrying hot stuff."
"White tape around black mats shows
where the people stand," Cook said.
"Each one of those is a workstation."
Shiv could see how the yellow lines
led to the white ones, but kept work
outside the main flow of traffic.
"Safety equipment's in red-and-white,"
Cook went on, pointing to the first aid kit.
"Active hazards have black-and-yellow,
like the lye for making hominy. That stuff
will take your skin off if you get it on you."
"I like hominy," Shiv said softly. "It
tastes good, and it sticks to your ribs."
"Sho'nuff," Cook said, grinning at him.
"Now repeat what I just said about the tape."
Shiv was surprised to find that he could
remember it just fine, with the colors
right there on the floor and walls.
"Good job," Cook said. "Remember
where Boss White's office is?"
"Yeah, it's downstairs across
from the guest room," Shiv said.
"Get on back to him then,"
Cook said. "I got a kitchen
to run here, and I'm busy."
So Shiv went downstairs
and knocked tentatively
on the door of the office.
A black lady opened it
and beckoned him in.
"I'm Dymin," she said.
"I'm Boss White's secretary."
"Shiv," he said. "I'm new here."
"I remember you from last night,"
Dymin said. "Go on back now,
the boss is expecting you."
Shiv presented himself
in front of the big desk.
Boss White looked up from
his daybook and said, "It's
good to see you again, Shiv.
How are you doing? Did
you get enough breakfast?"
"Yeah, I'm stuffed," Shiv said.
"My back mostly quit bothering me,
unless I move the wrong way."
"That's as it should be,"
Boss White said, and waved
at a rolling chair. "Sit down."
Shiv sat, trying not to feel like
he was in a principal's office.
His superpower flick-flick-flicked at
the zipper pull on his hoodie anyhow.
"Relax," Boss White said, backing it
with a soft touch of telepathy that
made Shiv go boneless in his chair.
"We're just going to cover some basics.
We'll review all of it in a week or two
when you are actually sober."
"Okay," Shiv said. "What basics?"
"Let's start with what you can do,"
Boss White said. "Last night you listed
fighting, stealing, and mopping floors.
Do you know how to wait tables?
Set them with plates and silver?"
"No," Shiv said, wilting in place.
"I don't know much fancy stuff."
"Well, you'll learn," Boss White said.
Can you wash and dry dishes?"
"Yeah, if I have to," Shiv said.
"All right, we'll start you on
mopping and dishwashing duty,"
Boss White said. "You need a job
other than making trouble, which I don't
need made fresh every day like bread."
Shiv couldn't help it; he snickered.
"Sorry, boss," he said, ducking.
"I made a joke, Shiv, you're
allowed to laugh," Boss White said.
"Pay starts at minimum wage. You get
time-and-a-half for overtime past 40 hours
a week, double for holidays, and hazard pay
typically runs double to triple depending on
current risks, plus bonuses of course."
"Oh ... kay," Shiv said slowly.
His head spun. He wasn't
good with numbers or money.
They kind of scared him.
"Start where you are. You
learn more, you earn more,"
Boss White said. "That holds for
club work and street work alike.
Far and away the best prize that
life has to offer is the chance
to work hard at work worth doing."
"I like what I do," Shiv said.
"D'ruther bust heads and
nick things than mop, but
I'll take whatever I can get,
especially if the money's good."
"Don't worry, we'll sort it out,"
Boss White said. "Ask Dymin
if you need help with math."
Shiv just nodded. He was
afraid to bother the secretary,
though. She seemed fierce.
"I'm guessing you won't take to
a flop room very well, so you can
crash in the guest apartment until
you find a place of your own,"
Boss White said. "Dymin can
help you look for one later."
"I don't need much, just
a place to sleep and doors
that really lock," Shiv said.
"You deserve that and more,"
Boss White said, which just
bent Shiv's head again.
"So um ... what's the gang
like?" Shiv wondered.
"As you can tell from
the name, we're mixed race,
and I don't hold with prejudice
of any kind," Boss White said.
"I expect to teach you that too,
since I have to with most folks."
"I grew up in mixed houses,
or black ones, a lot of the time,"
Shiv said. "I'm smooth with it."
Boss White smiled. "That's good
to hear. I like it when my boys don't
have to unlearn a lot of bad habits."
Shiv was nothing but bad habits.
He didn't mention that, though.
"Some of us have superpowers,
although most don't," Boss White said.
"We got a membership at a gym, and
that's a perk you get too. You can
practice there, or ask Brown Bottle
to show you some good places."
"I'm good at what I do," Shiv said,
lifting his chin. "I can do my work!"
"That don't mean you got no room
for improvement," Boss White said.
"You'll practice just like everyone else."
"Yeah, boss," Shiv muttered.
"Now, I expect you to obey me
because I'm the boss," he said.
"Can you do that for me?"
Shiv looked down. He was
supposed to tell the truth,
but if he did, that would
get him canned for sure.
"Spit it out, and remember
what I told you about lying,"
Boss White ordered him.
"I can try, but ... I'm no good
at minding people," Shiv said.
"I always wind up in trouble
sooner or later, usually sooner.
S'why people dump me so fast."
"Finders keepers, losers weepers,"
Boss White said instantly. "We'll
just add obedience to the list of
things you can work on here.
Maybe you've just never had
anyone worth following before."
That was ... not wrong, Shiv realized.
"When you mess up, which everyone
does sometimes, then there will be
consequences --" Boss White said.
Shiv shied away, which made his back
bump against the chair, which hurt,
forcing him to flinch forward again.
"Settle down," Boss White said.
"I ain't like that fool Batir. If you make
an honest mistake, we'll work it out.
Screw around on purpose, or get
careless, and you'll find yourself
cleaning the johns for a few days --
which is a job that nobody wants.
I don't hit my boys. Understand?"
Shiv didn't understand, but he
wanted to. "Okay," he said.
"That's enough to go on for now,"
Boss White said. "We can go over
the details next week, and we'll
check in from time to time too,
in case you want to change
anything in our agreement.
How does that sound, Shiv?"
"Too good to be true,"
he said without thinking,
then winced. "Sorry."
"Well, give it a kick and see
if it falls over," Boss White said.
"You've heard about our gang,
so you know it's good enough
to last. The question is whether
it's good enough for you."
"I want it to be," Shiv said,
licking his lips. "I really do."
"It's an unwritten contract,
but binding as far as it goes,"
Boss White said. "Are you
willing to give us a fair try?
Don't shake on it if you
don't mean it, Shiv."
The boss got up and
walked around the desk,
then offered Shiv his hand.
"Yeah, boss," Shiv said,
his small pale hand vanishing
inside Boss White's big dark one.
"I'll come to work for you."
"In that case," Boss White said,
"Welcome home, Shiv."
Something inside him
cracked open at that, and
he didn't know what it was.
It hurt a little, but it also let in
more of the warm energy that
he was coming to recognize
as Boss White's signature.
Shiv never really had a home,
but he liked the idea of staying
in this quirky, colorful place.
"Home," he echoed. "Yeah, okay."
* * *
Notes:
This poem is long, so the notes appear elsewhere.