Another journal

Written during my month of writing.  You can find all the sections here.

Emily had never been on a long trip before and began to feel overwhelmed as soon as she found out that she was leaving for the Sidhe in a little over a week.

“Though really, shouldn’t I mount my steed and be off with the sunset, carrying nought but a cloak, knife, knapsack of vittles and your well-wishes for a shield?” Emily was going over a to-do list at the kitchen island, watching Janice make iced tea from a powdered mix. Her aunt, for someone who drank instant, was very picky about her drink. The result was half the counter covered in jars and measuring utensils, looking like an alchemist’s worktable.

Janice levelled a spoon of brown sugar, softly packing it down. As she tapped it into a small bowl, she glanced up at Emily. “Don’t be crude.”

“Crude?”

“Vittles. Who the hell says ‘vittles’? We’re faeries, not cowboys.” Pushing hair from her face with the back of her hand, Janice turned to the white sugar and began measuring it out.

Emily snorted. “I thought you guys hated that word, Becky flinches like it’s a racial swear.”

“Yes, well, I’m reclaiming it. Like they do in that rap.”

“That rap?”

“Hush, I’m measuring.” With a flounce Janice spooned tea into the bowl, on top of a small pile of sugar.

Emily doodled on the list around ‘pack’, which had a helpful blank space for a list of key items to bring. Feeling productive, she wrote “knife.” The heat and a general sense of unreality made her feel languid, like preparing for the trip was no different than a crossword she could decide not to finish.

“You’re calling her Becky now?” Emily blinked, she’d forgotten the thread of their conversation. Her aunt was pouring a portion of water into the bowl, mixing as she did to make a syrup.

“She asked me to? Kind of.” Emily clicked her pen. “It seemed appropriate to the situation.”

Janice poured the sugary tea syrup into an old glass gallon bottle, scraping the last pools out with a spatula. Emily watched, smiling. She’d seen her aunt make tea thousands of times, but it still grossed her out and impressed her at the same time.

“Today’s your last day at work?” Janice set the bowl in the sink and ran water in it to soak, tossing in the various measuring tools and spoons. “Or, it is if they don’t demand a two week notice.”

“I feel bad asking to leave on no notice. It’s slow season right now, but it’s unfair to the other people who work there. And it will definitely influence any reference they give later.” She watched as Janice slowly began adding water to the jar, mixing it into the syrup with a giant chopstick.

Talking as she poured, Janice kept her eyes on the bottle. “For that job that you’ll be going to after you visit the Sidhe, you’ll need a good reference, right.” Bottle filled, she gave it a last stir and spun the lid on, wrenching it tight. “Because after you’ve returned the court to their rightful place, what a grocery store says about you is totally vital.” With a huff, she levered up the bottle and slowly began shaking it, turning it upside down.

Emily stuck her tongue out at Janice and went to change into her uniform.

Sitting in her manager’s small grey office, Emily fidgeted, tapping an envelope against her knee. The door behind her swung open, admitting Mr. Louston, who carried two cups of coffee from the breakroom. Setting one in front of Emily, he sidled around the side of the desk with the other, avoiding open boxes of register tape and file cabinets.

“I can guess what this is.” He fell comfortably into his chair, keeping his coffee level. “When a great—a solid and dependable—eighteen-year old employee nervously asks to see me after her shift, I can only assume they’ll be leaving our family of workers.” He eyed Emily over his cup, sipping delicately.

“I wrote a formal notice—” Emily trailed off, reaching the envelope across the desk.

“Of course you did, that’s what you’re supposed to do and so you did it.” He slipped the typewritten sheet of paper out and began to read it. “We’ll be sad to lose you Emily, you’ve been a boon.” Emily started, covering her movement by picking up her coffee. She hunched over the cup as Mr. Louston read.

“I feel awful asking for immediate leave, but it’s slow right now and both James and Fiona have been wanting more hours and this opportunity to go on a trip and intern is too good to pass up, but they gave me no notice either and I just don’t know how long I’ll be gone.” She took a deep breath and looked fixedly at the corner of the desk.

Mr. Louston hummed a little as he re-read her notice. “Did you use a typewriter?”

“Um, yes. I tried typing it at the library’s computer to print out, but I just could not concentrate.” She met her manager’s eyes briefly before returning her focus to the desk. He set the paper down and leaned back in his chair.

“To tell the truth, I was expecting something like this, but only because I’m a pessimist.” His voice was surprisingly kind and it made Emily look up again. “We’d been wanting to promote you to a department manager position, what with Sandra leaving to have her baby, but I know that things are tumultuous right after gradation—even though you weren’t expecting to leave, there was a good chance you would anyway.” He paused to drink, “you underestimate your abilities and potential. Listen. If this internship doesn’t work out to something better, you’re always welcome back here as a checker, and if you decide to stay, we’ll fast-track you to management.

Flattered, and a little teary, Emily shook his hand. “Sure thing, Mr. Louston.”

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.