Bookfield, Chris - Part 1

I took what Robbie had to say about finding a ride for delivery week seriously. I set it as a goal, and would ask at every house after I tried selling there. I didn’t have much luck. Evan had offered to help, but he did not have a vehicle, since he wrecked his truck. There was no way we could deliver books on his motorcycle.

It was mid day the next week when I came upon a house on the top of a small hill. It was in a pleasant neighborhood that was not quite suburban, but not quite rural either. The woman who answered the door let me in. I showed her the Family Bible Library.

“Oh, my son is too old for that kind of thing. We’re not really very religious either. I’m sorry.”

“Really. He’s older?”

“Yes, he’s going to be starting his senior year of high school in September.”

“Does he drive?”

“Yes. Why do you ask?”

“I’m looking for someone to help me deliver books next week. I need someone who has a car. I’m paying $20 a day for six days plus meals and gas.”

“He is looking for a job. He might be interested but he’s not home right now. Could you stop back later?”

“Where is he now?”

“He’s at the Dairy Queen with his friends for lunch.”

“That’s not far. I could go see him there.”

“Sure if you like. His name is Jeff. He’s tall and thin with wavy brown hair.” She looked a little baffled.

“Thanks a lot Ma’am.” With that I left. Finally I had a lead on a driver and I wasn’t going to let it go cold, either. I picked up my bike and headed off to the Dairy Queen. The sun glinted off of the red and white ‘DQ’ sign, somehow invoking thoughts of ice cream in me.

I parked my bike in front of the big glass window so that I could keep an eye on it. I walked into the DQ and surveyed the patrons for someone fitting Jeff’s description. I recognized him sitting with two other kids at a booth. He really was quite handsome; could have been a model. I went to the counter and ordered a banana split with everything on it. It was a work of art when completed. I paid and took my frozen lunch over to Jeff’s table. I stood a few feet from the end of their table and said to the one that looked like Jeff, “Hi there, Jeff. My name is Susan Fairview. I was just up at your house and your Mom said you might be looking for some work toward the end of the summer.”

“Yes I am. How did you find me here?”

“Your Mom told me you were here.”

“Oh. Please join us. This is Linda and James.”

“Thanks. So what are you kids studying in school?” I decided to make light conversation with them.

“Nothing.” they answered dejectedly in unison. Then they laughed at their simultaneous replies. We all got into a conversation about schools in the area. Apparently, some kids went to a private school that was really respected. These kids did not. They seemed barely literate. Their English was poor and they had no knowledge of anything they should have had by their age. They seemed to know it too. But, none of them had any lofty goals such as going on to college or, heck, even graduating seem lofty to one of them. But they all seemed happy as clams. After a while, Jeff’s two friends excused themselves so that Jeff and I could get down to business.

“So, what is the deal?” he asked.

“I need someone to drive me around with my books to be delivered for a week. The pay is $20 per day with meals and gas. Are you interested?”

“Sure. I could use the work. Thanks.” He added that he drove an older model dark green Impala. The car was large enough to do the job.

We made some arrangements and I left.