Fluke by David Elliott, Bart Hopkins Read Free Book Online Page A

office was in Pensacola.   He was a nice guy who always had a good joke for us when he made his visits.   Even though Perry was able to slap his own name on the building he was still franchised out from a bigger company.   He enjoyed talking about the day he would "own this place.”   I couldn't imagine sweating my entire life away in the kitchen of a pizza shack, dreaming of the day that it would be mine.   There had to be something better, right?  
    “Do you think we could lobby to have Mike and Big P swap positions?” I asked her, smiling.
    “Jesus, Fluke, what’s wrong with you?   Do you actually want happy people working here?   All that smiling and laughing couldn’t be good for business, or else Perry would have tried it already.”   She held up her cigarette and asked me again, “One more time: smoke?”
    “Sure,” I told her. “Always time to smoke.”   I picked up Perry’s items, tossed them on the counter and followed Heather.
    “Always,” she agreed, her ponytail swinging from side to side as she walked ahead of me towards the rear of the kitchen.  
    We went to the back door and propped it open with a large gray plastic trashcan that was set on top of a metal frame with wheels.   The can was empty now, but by the end of the night the thing would have an awful reek emanating from it due to old pizza, empty olive cans, and other unused food items and waste having been in it all day.   I normally got stuck emptying the damn thing.   Never again.   Well, at least not for Perry, never again.
    “What were you talking about back there?   The ‘root of all evil’ thing?” I asked her as we both exhaled from our first drag on our respective smokes.
    “Oh, yeah,” she said and giggled.   “Perry’s little joke this week has been ‘Adam bit the apple, and now YOU pay for his sins.’   He blurts it out every time he tells somebody about a change he’s made in the schedule involving that person, ‘because of Adam’.   It’s kind of sick; he’s really holding some weird grudge against you.   He laughs when he says it, and you can just see the threads strain on his shirt when that big stomach starts bouncing around.”   She laughed more as she said this, and, not able to help myself, I laughed too.   She really was a funny girl, but we had never hung out together aside from our talks at work.
    Why is that? I wondered.   She was a good-looking woman with a good sense of humor, and she seemed to be into me.
    The laughter subsided, and she went on: “He left you an envelope we’re supposed to give you if we see you.   Oh, yeah, and we’re supposed to tell you that you owe him $19.88 for a pizza and delivery change.”
    “Yeah, yeah, I know.   I brought Perry his damn money.   What a schmuck.”   I laughed a little at the thought of how his itty-bitty mind must work and flung my cigarette butt against the side of his building.   Heather stepped in front of me and flung hers against the side of the building also, imitating me quite well, and causing me to laugh more.   We walked inside dragging the oversized garbage can with us, and let the self-locking metal door swing shut behind us with a loud clunk. We made our way to Perry’s office, and Heather looked over his desk and handed me a small manila envelope with A. FLUKE written on it.
    I ripped it open and found my check for 18 hours’ worth of work and a handwritten note, which read: “Depending on your attitude, and sincereness , you might get your job back if you ask.   You can pay the $19.88 you owe to whoever is on shift.”
    “Dumb prick,” I sniggered, smiling at Heather
    “What?” She leaned towards me to get a glimpse of the note.   I smelled on her a hint of some fruity perfume, mingled in with the unavoidable smell of pizza sauce.   It was impossible to work here and not carry the scent of pizza on your body, in your hair, and, if you delivered them, in your car.   Sara had mentioned it at the pub