Page 8 of Don't Scare Me, My Love

“I told you, I was.”

“That sign isn’t up there for fun. Iactuallyneed help.”

“And Iactuallywant to apply.”

A drizzle caught my head. We both looked up at the sky as if the drizzle wasn’t enough of a sign that it was going to rain again.

“You’re not from around here. Do you even have a place to stay?”

“That’s not a problem. If I don’t get the job, I won’t need one.”

He made a face and motioned inside, holding the door open for me. I walked past him, but he didn’t follow me. He jumped to the little shed that was tucked away in the trees, unscrewed the lid on the gas can, and put it under the little nook so it wouldn’t get wet before he jogged back to me, his head down in as if the rain was an unpleasant sensation.

I held the door open for him, and he thanked me with an appreciative nod.

“You worked at a gas station before?” he asked as he made his way back to the counter.

“No. The thought never occurred to me, but when I walked in here this morning, it felt like something I wanted to experience. But I’ve worked hard and honestly at every job I've had. I’m a fast learner. I never get sick. And I like to make myself useful.”

He still stared at me as if I was babbling just to keep talking.

”Do you think your boss will mind that I don’t have any particular experience?”

He shook his head. “I’m the boss, manager, owner—call it what you will. It’s not a complicated job that requires a lot of prior knowledge. I don’t mind.”

My heart sank into my stomach. “Oh, I’m so sorry for assuming…”

He opened a drawer under the counter and pulled out a business card. “Happens. Don’t worry.” He handed me the card. “I’m Jason.”

My head jumped up. “Don’t tell me your last name is Vorhees.” The words came out before I could even think about it.

“It isn’t.” Another raised eyebrow. “It’s Taft. Like it says on the card.”

“Sorry. You know who Jason Voorhees is, right?”

He stared at me as if I had gone completely insane.

“One of the most famous movie killers of all time?” I added to explain. “Friday the 13th?”

He inhaled slowly as he fixed his eye on me.

“I promise I’m not just horror movies. I’ve worked a lot of jobs that have taught me a lot of skills. I’m sure I can be useful in other ways besides working the cash register.” My hands moved in front of me as if I was speaking to the nation. “I’m Nicholas, by the way,” I added. “Nicholas Burns, as in ‘Nicholasburnsin hell for talking about nothing but horror movies.’ Some people call me Nick.”

His eyebrows furrowed as the corners of his mouth twitched up. “No need to send yourself to hell just because you get excited about something.” He lowered his gaze. “Just,uh, don’t talk to the older folks about horror movies. They’re more into game shows and sitcoms.” He pointed at the business card and snatched it back out of my hand. He pulled a pen from the drawer and wrote something on the back. “Please send me a resume, so I have something to file away.” He handed me the card again. On the back was [email protected] in blue block letters. “Come back tomorrow morning at six-thirty, and I’ll show you around and have you fill out some forms.”

“Don’t we need to, like, have a job interview?”

“I can pay you nineteen dollars an hour. Shifts are eight hours with two fifteen-minute breaks. We’ll do a trial run for a week and then take it from there. Sounds good to you?”

“Sure.”

“Then that concludes the job interview.”

I tilted my head to my right shoulder. This was much more unconventional than any other job interview. “So… I’m hired?”

He nodded, making a face as if he didn’t understand why I was so surprised. “If you’re crazy enough to want to work here, I won’t hold you back. I need all the help I can get.”

He held out his hand to me.

---