Jimmy Time

Jimmy Time

Mandy Zeller

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2013 Mandy Zeller

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Chapter One

Jimmy put his hands on his hips and cocked his head to one side. He didn’t like the look of those clouds. It looked like it might rain.

He had stopped at the grocery store on his way to work to get what he always got: two twenty-four ounce cans of Rockstar energy drink. The flavor wasn’t important, just whatever happened to be available that day, and close to the front of the display so he didn’t have to reach too far. Today it was Juiced (Mango Orange Passion Fruit). He drank them so fast he couldn’t tell one from the other, anyway.

It was probably going to rain. Why was life always so hard? He couldn’t face the thought of driving his scooter all the way to work through the rain. It would most likely be a downpour. He should just call in to work and let them know he won’t be coming in today. That would be the best thing to do in this situation.

He dialed the number. He told Boss that his scooter had broken down on his way in. (Jimmy had called in with the rain excuse earlier that month. It didn’t go over so well.)

This new excuse didn’t seem to be working, either. Boss just offered to drive out and pick him up! What to do now?

Jimmy tried to think quickly. Uh… That’s okay, I called someone. They’re comin’ out to fix it. I’ll probably be able to make it in tomorrow.

That’s alright, I don’t mind. I can leave right now. Where are you?

Damn. Boss sure was helpful. At the Pick & Purchase parking lot.

Well, you just sit tight, Jimmy. I’ll be right over to get you.

But I can’t just leave my scooter here! Something might happen to it! Whew! Finally - a foolproof excuse for a day off. Jimmy could practically feel the couch cushion beneath his ass.

Oh, don’t you worry about your scooter. I drive a van, remember? I’m sure there’s room for it in the back. We’ll take it back to work with us. I can take a look at it on my lunch break, maybe even get it running for you before your shift ends. You’re at the grocery store? Hang on, I’ll be there in five!

Well hell. That didn’t work the way he had hoped at all. No way around it - looks like Jimmy is going to work today.

The place Jimmy was trying to avoid is the Chip ‘n’ Dip: an ice cream parlor/cookie bakery, located less than a mile from the grocery store parking lot he was currently sitting in. Jimmy’s responsibilities at the Chip ‘n’ Dip were sweeping up sprinkles and crumbs, wiping off tables, and straightening up the chairs after the customers left. It was grueling work. His shift was four long hours, with only two breaks and nothing to eat but ice cream and cookies. Well, he could pack a lunch from home, but the ice cream and cookies were free. Four hours of back-breaking labor and free ice cream and cookies day after day after day. Plus, he only got three days off each week. (Well, four, when his broken scooter excuse actually worked.)

Jimmy hated his job. He sat down on the bench outside the grocery store entrance and opened one of the Rockstar drinks. He waited for Boss to pull up in his van, and wished for a better life.

Things would be so much better if he could get out of this town. Everyone was so mean to him here. Everyone always watching him and ratting him out for the least little thing. If it wasn’t for those busybody tattletales, he could drive a car to work instead of this puny scooter. Sheesh- you make one or two (or four) little boo-boos like, say, go for a drive after a party and accidentally run over a few mailboxes - or sideswipe an elderly couple’s Buick - or simply pass out behind the wheel and end up stuck in a neighbor’s koi pond – and suddenly you’re like some sort of criminal who isn’t fit to drive a motor vehicle anymore! Ridiculous!

Boss’s van entered the parking lot. Jimmy groaned loudly as he hauled his ample frame from the bench. God must hate me, he muttered as he watched Boss load the scooter into the back of his van. The dark clouds that threatened on the horizon moments ago were gone now. Doesn’t look like it’s gonna rain, after all.

Now on his way to work, Jimmy was visibly bummed. Boss did his best to cheer him up.

I’m sure we’ll get that thing running again, buddy, he cooed, soothingly. What exactly was giving you trouble before it quit? Did you maybe forget to fill it up again?

Dammit! Forget to put gas in the tank just one (or three) times and nobody ever lets you forget it. Nah. It just wouldn’t start when I came out of the store. I don’t know what the problem is. Just my lousy luck, I guess. I couldn’t get a break if I tried. Jimmy sighed, loudly, and hung his head.

Aw, chin up, pal. We’ll get you rolling again in no time! Did you get your drinks at the store? The Chip ‘n’ Dip didn’t sell Rockstar, and Boss wanted to be sure Jimmy had his favorite beverage. Betty-Ann was just pulling a batch of double-fudge walnut out of the oven when I left. Why don’t you have a couple before you get started today?

Yeah. Maybe. Jimmy cocked his head to one side, stared blankly out the van window, and thought about how God hated him.

It would have taken Jimmy twice as long to travel the mile or so to the ice cream/cookie store. His scooter’s top speed was 27 mph. Boss’s van made the journey much too quickly, as far as Jimmy was concerned. He punched the time-clock and sat down in the small employee break-room in the rear of the shop. Boss joined him, bringing a plate of fresh chocolate cookies and a cup of coffee.

Here you go, buddy! This oughta get the ol’ motor going again! Seeing Jimmy’s despondent expression, he rushed to apologize. Aw, I shouldn’t have said it like that. I didn’t mean to bring up your vehicle troubles. Just forget all that and have a snack. The sweeping can wait a while longer.

Jimmy shoved a few cookies into his mouth. Boss sat a paper bag on the table. I brought some more Herbalife in for you. You said you finished up the last tub. I’ll keep it on my desk ’til your shift is over. You can pick it up when you leave. Boss was a fanatic about this stuff. Jimmy wasn’t even sure what it was. But Boss was sure it was the solution to Jimmy’s problems, so he brought a tub of the powdered drink mix in for him every few weeks. Jimmy took them home and stuck them in the cabinet under the sink.

Some other employees were entering the break-room now, about to enjoy a legitimate break. Jimmy wasn’t exactly sure of their names. He’d only worked at the Chip ‘n’ Dip for about eight months. Jimmy wasn’t so good at remembering names. One of the ice cream girls rolled her eyes and elbowed the girl next to her, nodding her head in Jimmy’s direction. Jimmy had his head down, scooping cookies into his mouth, so he didn’t notice. Sometimes it seemed like the other employees didn’t approve of Jimmy’s extra breaks. But they didn’t know about Jimmy’s hard life. They didn’t realize that sometimes Jimmy needs a little extra time (and cookies, and a pep talk from Boss) to get his head together.

Omph! Mmhph mmhumm phummmf. Jimmy announced around a mouthful of cookies.

What’s that you said? Boss had already moved to his office in the next room, his door open so he could keep an eye on Jimmy if he needed anything.

Jimmy groaned, loudly, as he got up from the break-room table. He left his coffee cup and cookie plate behind for whomever it was that cleaned up after his breaks. He joined Boss in the office, loudly announcing, I need to see a dentist about my tooth. It’s been killin’ me lately. I probably won’t be able to make it in tomorrow.

Oh? A toothache? I’m sorry to hear that. Poor kid. I never would have forced those walnut cookies on you if I had known about your dental issues. Sorry, buddy! Boss opened a desk drawer and pulled out yet another Time Off Request form.

What? Jimmy picked a walnut bit free from a back tooth with his finger. Oh, yeah. My tooth. That’s okay, you didn’t know. It’s really killin’ me, though. He grunted and rubbed his jaw for emphasis. It was unnecessary. Boss was already filling out the form.

Seriously?! A voice came from the office doorway. It was Mindy— or Megan…or was her name Cheryl? Jimmy wasn’t sure. Whatever her name was, she sure didn’t seem to be happy about him taking tomorrow off. Why the hell does he need to miss work for a lousy dentist appointment? He’s only here four hours out of the day – surely he can take care of that on his own time.

The girl in the doorway was becoming red faced, and Boss tried to diffuse the situation. Oh I’m sure the rest of us can pick up the slack for a bit while Jimmy gets his tooth looked at. Dental health is important.

But Jimmy’s coworker wasn’t having it. She approached Boss’s desk. "We’re always picking up the slack! He’s never here! And when he is here, he spends most of his time in the break-room with you! He only took this job so he could stay out of jail on work release last summer. The rest of us do most of the sweeping and straightening up. JIMMY IS THE WORST EMPLOYEE EVER!!"

The room was quiet and there was a second or two when absolutely nothing happened. Her tirade at an end, Cheryl (or Megan) turned to leave. She knew it was useless to talk sense to this bunch of yokels, but sometimes yelling made her feel better. The phrase, WORST EMPLOYEE EVER seemed to float in the room around them. Cheryl (no, maybe it was Megan after all) had taken just two steps toward the office door when Jimmy picked up a pen from the desk and stabbed it into her neck.

A whole bunch of stuff happened then. Jimmy bellowed, SPRINKLES ARE HARD TO SWEEP UP!! Megan collapsed on the floor. (Wait- maybe her name was Mindy? Yeah, Mindy sounds right.) Blood soon coated the desk and splattered the walls of the office. Boss, moving faster than he was normally known to, rushed to close the door.

I’ll have to call the police eventually, buddy, Boss informed Jimmy, gently. You’d better get going. Here - take this with you. He stepped over the blood-soaked corpse to give him the brown paper bag of Herbalife. Jimmy still stood, trancelike. Boss smacked his shoulder. GO, JIMMY! GO!

Jimmy cocked his head to one side and stared at his boss. Then, taking the bag, he rushed out of the office and through the front door of the Chip ‘n’ Dip before anyone had a chance to question his departure. Boss’s van was unlocked, but it wasn’t easy unloading the scooter from the back all by himself. He managed it, though, and was pleased when the engine complied with his request on the first try. As well it should - there was never anything wrong with it to begin with. Jimmy raced out toward the highway at twenty-seven miles per hour.

Chapter Two

His first thought was to head home. He did head in that direction for a mile or so. But even in his panicked state he realized that was the first place the authorities would look. Home was no good. This town was no good. He always knew that. Now was the time. Time to start a new life.

Jimmy had plans for his new life. If you had ever spent more than fifteen minutes with him I’m sure he would have told you. He told everyone. Sweeping sprinkles was not for him. Jimmy’s dream was to become a blacksmith. He was going to escape this town of snitches and start anew, forging badass swords and the like. He’d travel to some place where folks didn’t watch him all the time, waiting for him to slip up. Finally things would be the way they should be. His hard life would be over.

Now it was happening! He was on his way! If only he could have went home to pack. He could have picked up his battered copy of The Art of Blacksmithing. The book didn’t acquire its worn condition from being read often. Jimmy just carried it around with him, hoping to engage bystanders in a conversation about his dream. Occasionally he opened it and thumbed through a few pages, looking around to see if perhaps someone was about to ask him what it was he was reading, but it was pretty dry stuff. No pictures,