Forgotten: Seventeen and Homeless by Melody Carlson Read Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Melody Carlson
writing.
I smile at her. "Filling out a job application."
Her pale blue eyes widen. "To work here?"
I nod. "Do you think I'd like to work here?"
She looks over her shoulder, then back at me with a thoughtful expression. "You seem like a nice girl."
Now I'm not sure what she means by this observation, but I thank her. "Do you think a nice girl would want to work here?"
She lifts a shaky hand to rub her chin. "Well, I suppose a nice girl might want to work here for a while. But not for too long."
"Yes ... well, it would only be part time."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
She looks shocked. "Oh my. You're only a girl."
"How old are you?"
She gets a sly look. "Twenty-nine."
I try not to laugh.
She lowers her head in a confidential way. "If you reverse the numerals, you can guess my age. I like number games. I used to be a teacher."
I figure she must be ninety-two. And she seems to be mentally sharp, which makes me wonder why she's in here. But I don't think it's polite to ask. I'm sure there are all kinds of reasons elderly people are in here.
"Now I must get my exercise," she tells me as she pushes her walker away. "I fell and broke my hip, and the doctor says the only way I can get better is to walk and walk and walk. And if I get well enough, I can go back to my house."
"Oh, that's good. Yes, be sure you get your exercise."
She pauses. "What's your name?"
"Adele."
"Oh, such a pretty name."
"Thank you. What's your name?"
"I'm Mrs. Ashburn."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ashburn."
Then she smiles and shuffles away. And I turn my attention back to the application. By the time I'm done, I feel rather pleased with myself. For my age, I think my work references are fairly impressive. Hopefully whoever reads this will agree.
"Here you go." I hand my application to the woman at the reception desk.
"That didn't take long." She glances down at the application, then nods. "But it looks like you filled in all the blanks."
"I did my best."
She studies me with interest now. "You know, the manager is on the premises this morning. I'll bet she could see you now if you like."
"For an interview?"
"Why not? Do you want me to buzz her and see if she's interested?"
I agree, and less than five minutes later, I am sitting in front of Ms. Michaels. I'm guessing she's about my mom's age, but she dresses more conservatively and has an air of authority about her. "You seem young to have had quite a bit of work experience." She peers over her reading glasses at me with a curious expression.
I decide to keep everything about this interview as honest as possible. "My parents divorced when I was twelve. My mom has had some health challenges, so I've tried to help out by working when I can. Summer jobs ... part time after school ... however I can earn some extra money. The jobs just kind of added up."
She sets down the application. "I can see that."
"And we just moved here in August for my mom's job, but now it looks like she's unable to work. So it's important I find work ... as soon as possible."
Ms. Michaels nods. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother's poor health. Hopefully she'll get some kind of assistance."
"Yes, that would be good." I'm curious as to what kind of assistance Ms. Michaels is referring to, but I want to stick to the interview. "So, anyway, in the meantime I need to do what I can to help out. And since I live within walking distance, this seemed like a good place to start."
"I noticed you live nearby. And you say you can work evenings and weekends?"
"That's right."
"And I assume these are the correct names and phone numbers for your references?" She studies me closely, as if she thinks I just made them up.
"As far as I know, they're correct." I nod firmly. "I always keep references handy in case I need to find a new job. And I'm pretty sure their recommendations will all be positive."
"You seem like an intelligent girl. And I'm guessing you're a hard worker too. But how are you with elderly people? Do
I smile at her. "Filling out a job application."
Her pale blue eyes widen. "To work here?"
I nod. "Do you think I'd like to work here?"
She looks over her shoulder, then back at me with a thoughtful expression. "You seem like a nice girl."
Now I'm not sure what she means by this observation, but I thank her. "Do you think a nice girl would want to work here?"
She lifts a shaky hand to rub her chin. "Well, I suppose a nice girl might want to work here for a while. But not for too long."
"Yes ... well, it would only be part time."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen."
She looks shocked. "Oh my. You're only a girl."
"How old are you?"
She gets a sly look. "Twenty-nine."
I try not to laugh.
She lowers her head in a confidential way. "If you reverse the numerals, you can guess my age. I like number games. I used to be a teacher."
I figure she must be ninety-two. And she seems to be mentally sharp, which makes me wonder why she's in here. But I don't think it's polite to ask. I'm sure there are all kinds of reasons elderly people are in here.
"Now I must get my exercise," she tells me as she pushes her walker away. "I fell and broke my hip, and the doctor says the only way I can get better is to walk and walk and walk. And if I get well enough, I can go back to my house."
"Oh, that's good. Yes, be sure you get your exercise."
She pauses. "What's your name?"
"Adele."
"Oh, such a pretty name."
"Thank you. What's your name?"
"I'm Mrs. Ashburn."
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Ashburn."
Then she smiles and shuffles away. And I turn my attention back to the application. By the time I'm done, I feel rather pleased with myself. For my age, I think my work references are fairly impressive. Hopefully whoever reads this will agree.
"Here you go." I hand my application to the woman at the reception desk.
"That didn't take long." She glances down at the application, then nods. "But it looks like you filled in all the blanks."
"I did my best."
She studies me with interest now. "You know, the manager is on the premises this morning. I'll bet she could see you now if you like."
"For an interview?"
"Why not? Do you want me to buzz her and see if she's interested?"
I agree, and less than five minutes later, I am sitting in front of Ms. Michaels. I'm guessing she's about my mom's age, but she dresses more conservatively and has an air of authority about her. "You seem young to have had quite a bit of work experience." She peers over her reading glasses at me with a curious expression.
I decide to keep everything about this interview as honest as possible. "My parents divorced when I was twelve. My mom has had some health challenges, so I've tried to help out by working when I can. Summer jobs ... part time after school ... however I can earn some extra money. The jobs just kind of added up."
She sets down the application. "I can see that."
"And we just moved here in August for my mom's job, but now it looks like she's unable to work. So it's important I find work ... as soon as possible."
Ms. Michaels nods. "I'm sorry to hear about your mother's poor health. Hopefully she'll get some kind of assistance."
"Yes, that would be good." I'm curious as to what kind of assistance Ms. Michaels is referring to, but I want to stick to the interview. "So, anyway, in the meantime I need to do what I can to help out. And since I live within walking distance, this seemed like a good place to start."
"I noticed you live nearby. And you say you can work evenings and weekends?"
"That's right."
"And I assume these are the correct names and phone numbers for your references?" She studies me closely, as if she thinks I just made them up.
"As far as I know, they're correct." I nod firmly. "I always keep references handy in case I need to find a new job. And I'm pretty sure their recommendations will all be positive."
"You seem like an intelligent girl. And I'm guessing you're a hard worker too. But how are you with elderly people? Do
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