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“The position’s yours if you want it.”
Kaitlyn grabbed his arm and squealed in delight.
A warmth spread upward from the pit of Bradley’s stomach. “I would be honoured.”
“Honoured?” Eunji’s brown eyes darted back and forth between him and Kaitlyn. “You do understand this is just a supervisor position, right? Not a presidency. We’re talking a dollar fifty more an hour in exchange for an excessive increase in workload, including the impossible task of scheduling a couple dozen employees who don’t really want to be here.”
“Absolutely honoured,” he repeated.
Eunji cracked a smile. “All right, then.” She started walking away but spun around. “Forgot to ask. You know how to use Excel, right?”
“Excel. Of course. No problem.”
“Excellent. We’ll talk more once we make it through the busy season.” Eunji strode off.
Kaitlyn shook his arm. “Our new president! Speaking of the schedule, I have a few thoughts on—”
“You don’t happen to know how to use Excel, do you?”
“Sure. But I’m not sure what a fitness tracker app has to do with—”
A crackle came through their staff radios: “Code brown in one of the portable washrooms. I repeat, code brown. We’re going to need someone down there with a mop ASAP.”
Kaitlyn grimaced and reached down to rub the ankle of her boot. “Would you mind?”
Bradley cleaned the washroom. He worked with a dedicated efficiency, keeping busy, because stillness was often his greatest enemy. It felt as though there was an outstretched hand perpetually in front of him, waiting to guide him back to the dark side if he should stop moving, if his will should weaken for a single second.
Once the job was finished, he strode through the winding corridors of the seasonal tent looking for his next opportunity to be helpful. His thumbs slung through the loops that held his shiny black Santa belt, he greeted his coworkers by tipping his Santa hat. He may have taken Eunji’s holiday-dress recommendation a little too far.
“How was the barbecue with the grandkids, Zhi?”
“Barbara! I’m still waiting for the next instalment of your fan fiction. Don’t keep me hanging.”
When he spotted Gladys, a “mature” lady—Bradley didn’t like referring to her as old—who was pushing a loaded tote dolly in millimetre increments, as if the boxes were sliding on the ground and not on wheels, he rushed over. “Here, let me.”
“No need.” Grunt. “I’ve got it.” Grunt. “I—Aah…” Gladys exhaled in relief as Bradley took over, manoeuvring the trolley with relative ease. “I could have done it myself, you know. The Bridge Ladies recommended this new strengthening elixir, and it’s been doing wonders for my muscles.” She raised her arms, and Bradley imagined she was flexing fairly decent biceps underneath her baggy bell-shaped sleeves.
“No doubt. But I’m behind on my daily goal and could really use the steps. If you don’t mind?”
“Well, if you need the steps.” Gladys sashayed beside him, her dangly earrings swaying as she moved, her jet-black hair with a bright-white fringe sprawling wavy and wild down to her shoulder blades—none of which met employee code. “But while I may be getting on in my years, I’m still happy to help.” She chuckled. “After all, I’m not dead yet.”
Her comment vaguely stirred up the memory of the poor little bird. But after Bradley deposited the tote dolly, he worked through the rest of his shift without another consideration for the dead thing found on his front step. Until he returned home to find another one waiting for him.
This time, it was a mouse.
Bradley sighed. He felt less inclined to hold an impromptu funeral for a rodent. But it didn’t seem right to show kindness toward one animal and not another based on some arbitrary hierarchy of cuteness. So he found his gloves, disposed of the mouse in the bin around back, and said a few words.
He was speaking about a possible love of cheese and enjoyment of mazes when he felt eyes on him. Turning around, he found they belonged to the biggest orange-and-white tabby cat he’d ever seen. The animal sat perched on the fence, head tilted to the side.
“Hello, kitty. And who might you be?”
The cat hissed. Bradley took a step back. He thought about the bird and the mouse. “Did those belong to you, little kitty? Don’t tell me I accidently tossed away your supper.”
At this, the cat jumped down and hissed even louder, the sound approaching a roar.
Bradley shuffled back, boots crunching on the hard snow. Hands spread wide to ward off the cat’s approach, he slowly leaned in to look for a collar or any indication this was, in fact, a domesticated cat and not some wild thing that had wandered over from the forest.
“Easy, girl. I’m sure we can work this out.”
