Jack's Job, Kyle's Career

Jack hated working at SaveMart.

Six months ago, Jack had taken a second job, in addition to the business that he had started. Stocking shelves didn’t pay well, at all, but the extra paycheck helped him get from one week to the next.

He had worked far more demanding, strenuous jobs. Here, all Jack had to do was stock, unload the truck, and help customers find what they were looking for. It was easy. So easy, in fact, that he had been named employee of the month, three months running.

To honor him, they hung his picture by the door, for all the shoppers to see. He hated that picture, and everyone seeing it.

He was thirty years old, barely making ends meet, and working a job meant for teenagers.

If anything angered Jack nearly as much as having his picture on display, it was Kyle. Every time their shifts overlapped, Jack had to endure Kyle. He hated Kyle. He hated everything about him.

From across the store, he would see Kyle lumbering toward him. He waddled, lazily. He was portly, unshaven, and wore glasses. His shirt was perpetually untucked. His hair was unkempt, uncut, and uncared for. And at least one of his shoe laces always needed tying.

But no matter how many different ways Jack was superior to Kyle, it did not matter. They still had the same job, the same pay, the same status.

Despite the fact, or perhaps because, Jack did not say very much to anyone, Kyle always found Jack–as soon as he could. He would blather on and on about whatever came to his mind. Never intelligent, never pertinent.

He would, unknowingly, test Jack’s patience until he saw a manager heading their way. Kyle would either have to tuck in his shirt to avoid a warning, or duck away to the back room. Luckily for Jack, Kyle usually chose to hide.

In most cases, if Jack wanted to avoid someone, he would go into the freezer. He would pretend to look for TV dinners, or ice cream. No one wanted to spend much time in the sub-zero temperature. But Kyle would follow Jack wherever he went. Though, it did not stop Jack from trying to shake him every now and again.

“Good news,” Kyle said, following Jack into the freezer. “My Grandma is having surgery, and she lives far away, like in Bay City. It’s by Saginaw–”

“Move,” Jack said, pulling a rolling cart out from behind him. Jack did not really need that specific cart, but he liked to see how many times he could inconvenience Kyle in minor ways before he noticed. He almost never did, and even then, he thought it was a friendly joke.

Kyle continued, unabated. “Well, that’s not the good news.” Kyle laughed and waited for Jack to reciprocate. He did not.

“That my Grandma is having surgery… That’s not the good news.”

Clearly, Kyle was waiting for Jack to respond. He gave in. “Yeah.”

Kyle followed Jack onto the floor without grabbing a cart of his own to work on. “The good news is: my Mom and Aunt are going up there for it.”

Kyle paused, waiting for a reaction.

Determined not to reply this time, Jack put on his gloves, and grabbed the frost covered dairy cartons.

“They’re going to be out of town.” Kyle paused, dramatically. He smiled, barely able to contain his excitement. “All weekend. And guess who’s invited over?”

Despite the seething rage that warmed Jack in front of the open freezer, he did not want to be overtly rude. So, he glanced at Kyle, and replied as generously as he could, “Who?”

“You,” Kyle said. “Well, a few people are. Like, kids from my block. You don’t know them, but they’re cool. You’ll like them.”

Jack stopped moving ice cream around, and closed the door. But before he could say anything, Kyle spoke again.

“And don’t say, you gotta get up early tomorrow. It’s Saturday. So you don’t have your other job. And you don’t have to work here, till four. I checked.”

Jack had taken off his gloves and rubbed his hands over his bare arms. On Kyle’s off days, Jack never worked the refrigerated isles, much less the frozen ones.

He wanted to believe that the cold that had numbed his brain. That, if he was not so preoccupied on staying warm, that he would have found a way to wriggle out of the invitation. But Jack knew the real reason he was stuck. And it stunned him. Kyle –dumb, dense, dimwitted Kyle– had outmaneuvered him.

Kyle had repeatedly invited Jack over, but with two jobs, he always had to wake up early. Now, the one time he had a morning off, Kyle pounced. The fact that his Mother was out of town was just dumb luck.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” Jack said.

“No excuses.” Kyle smiled. “You can come straight over after work.”

Kyle started to walk away, then turned back to Jack. “Actually, I need a ride home, anyway.”



JACK HATED WHEN KYLE gave directions to his trailer park. He knew exactly where Kyle lived. He drove him home at least once or twice a week. Whenever they had a closing shift together.

Maybe Kyle would need to be constantly reminded where a building was, despite having been there fifty times, Jack thought. But he did not.

Jack looked at the little rectangles lining the cracked, blacktop road. He could not imagine living in a glorified shipping container.

Flowers and early Halloween decorations brightened the drab, chipped paint covering the aluminum siding. Jack wondered why the people bothered.

“Accept that you live in a trailer park, and start drinking yourself to death,” Jack mumbled.

“What?” Kyle asked, from the passenger seat.

“Nothing,” Jack said, as he turned onto the little road that Kyle lived on.

“Just down there.” Kyle pointed, carelessly smudging his finger against the windshield. “Past the street light. Little further.”

“I know.”

Jack pulled into the drive and parked. Kyle jumped out of the car, and headed for the door, ready to start the night. “I forgot to tell you, I rented the new Grand Theft, we should play.”

Jack turned the car off, and just– sat. With a thousand-yard-stare, he attempted to gather strength. The longer he sat motionless, the harder it was to move.

Kyle fidgeted with the key on the small wooden porch leading to his side door. Jack wondered how long he could sit there before Kyle said anything.

After opening the door, then walking inside, Kyle poked his head back out and smiled. “Dude! You coming?”

Jack squeezed the steering wheel, and took a deep breath.

The trailer was smaller than Jack had expected.

He had seen the inside of one before. A double-wide. He had been surprised by how much space there was. Multiple rooms, a kitchen, cozy couches, carpet.

But this? This was small.

Jack made another comment under his breath. “Still saving up for a double-wide, I see.”

Blue carpet covered both the living room and kitchen. Which, did not seem strange, because, in truth, they were the same room. The ‘entertainment center’ sat in the far corner. A 27” flatscreen perched atop a tall, skinny cabinet. A worn out couch and lazy-boy provided guests with comfortable places to sit, if one avoided random bits of foam spilling out the occasional tears in the cushions.

“Wanna beer?” Kyle said, opening the fridge.

“God yes, I need one.” But as soon as Jack spoke, he regretted it. What kind of beer would he have? Blue Ribbon? Natty Light?

Two bottles of beer emerged from the fridge. Bud Lights. There were worse beers on the planet, Jack thought, but not many.

Kyle placed them on the counter, which was plenty big enough to fit the two beers, heck, three or four beers. But not much more than that.

After a prolonged rummage through a junk drawer, Kyle pulled out a can opener.

“No Sam Adams?” Jack asked. He knew imports or IPA’s were out of the question. But he hoped that his ‘joke’ would result in Kyle pulling out something with actual taste.

“Ick. No. That stuff is nasty,” Kyle said, popping off the top of a beer.

Jack waited until after Kyle had finished opening both bottles, then said, “You know those are twist offs, right?”

After twenty minutes of watching Kyle highjack cars, kill prostitutes, and run from the police, Jack said, “I thought you said you had friends coming over?”

“Yeah, they get off at one,” Kyle said, as he crashed into a cement medium.

Jack got up, and looked out the window. His car leaked, needed a new muffler, and had terrible gas milage. Still, he couldn’t help but worry that someone would jimmy the lock and drive away with it.

How much longer would he have to stay?

Jack had choked down a bottle and a half of tasteless sewer water. He moved toward the ‘kitchen.’

“Where’s the bathroom?” Jack asked, pointing to the other end of the trailer.

“Second door on the left,” Kyle said, tapping the controller repeatedly.

Jack walked down a narrow hallway, and passed an open door. He could see a bedroom with pink sheets, and pastel wallpaper. He had remembered Kyle saying something about an older sister.

He continued down the hallway, which lead into a utility room. Though there was barely enough room for clothes to be left on the floor in front of the economy sized washer/dryer, Jack still had to step over shirts, bras, and towels to enter the bathroom.

As he closed the door, Jack tried to decide which he like better, this bathroom, or an airplane lavatory. The toilet had two handles. One flushed as normal. The other, as he would soon discover, opened a valve at the bottom of the bowel. Gravity drained the contents, without flushing, and wasting extra water.

The soap dispenser only spurted out flecks of foam. Spots of the mirror had been chipped or rubbed off.

Jack looked at his reflection. “I have to get the hell out of here.”

Jack found Kyle exactly where he left him, and said, “Listen, Kyle. I hate to do this, but I really gotta go.”

Kyle paused his game, and looked at his guest. “What’s wrong?”

As cold as he acted toward Kyle, Jack prided himself on his subtly. If Kyle had any idea of how much Jack disliked him, Jack would have felt guilty. Jack knew that this did not make him a good person, in fact, it only proved him a weak one. If he was going to be a dick, he might as well just be a dick, and save them both a lot of trouble.

But Jack could not bring himself to do it.

“Nothing, everything’s cool.” Jack put his hand on his stomach. “I’m just not feeling so good.”

Diarrhea was the one, and perhaps only, rock solid excuse. That is, without evoking a familial death. Anyone brave enough to play that card was either truly sick, or was sufficiently desperate enough, that they would be released from any obligation without question. What could Kyle say?

“Aw, that sucks man. We finally get a chance to hang out.”

“Yeah, I know. Sucks.” Jack walked to the door. “We’ll have to do it again, sometime.”

Jack settled into the driver's seat of his car, and exhaled. “Thank God.”

Jack turned the key. His heart sank.

The engine sputtered, but would not turn over.

He cranked the key forward again. No luck.

He tried again, and again. The door to the trailer opened. Kyle poked his head out, and tried to hide his smile.



“ARE YOU SURE THIS guy can fix it?” Jack asked, as they walked back to Kyle’s street.

The pair had knocked on the door of another trailer. Kyle had given assurances, ’this guy knows everything about cars.’ But a heavyset latino woman answered the door, and told them, through drags of her cigarette, that Carlo would not be back for an hour.

“Don’t worry, he fixes my Aunt’s car all the time.”

Without a working car, Jack needed Kyle. So, he fought the urge to pull a SaveMart trick, and walk quickly. He could outpace Kyle easily at work, but now, at the end of the day, Kyle struggled to keep up, even more.

When they crossed the small patch of grass in front of Kyle’s, Jack saw the first appealing thing he had found, since pulling into the trailer park. A girl.

She sat, sipping a beer, on a swinging bench. She wore a white tank top and dangerously short, cut-off jeans.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked.

“Jack, Crystal. Crystal, Jack.” Normally, this type of introduction from Kyle would have agitated Jack. He had, no doubt, seen it in a movie, and thought either, it was cool, or just how people talked. To Jack, it was neither.

But he hardly noticed Kyle’s lazy intro, or the way Kyle’s palm slapped his thighs after he pointed to each of them in turn. Jack’s eyes were glued on the girl.

Her hair was thrown up in a quick ponytail. Strands of blonde fell down her neck, playing against her golden brown skin.

“Wanna beer?” she asked, shaking the now empty bottle at Jack.

“Thought you’d never ask.”

“Kyle, go get two more beers,” she said.

Without a word, Kyle complied. Jack sat down next to Crystal.

“Must be nice to have a little brother to order around,” Jack said.

“Only when he listens.” Crystal set down her empty bottle, and pushed her bare foot against the ground, setting them in motion. “You work at SaveMart with Kyle?”

Very few people knew that Jack stocked shelves in his spare time. And that, was by design. He purposely applied at a location far away from his house. Once, he spotted an old acquaintance, in the pasta isle. He hid in the back room, and pretended to organize boxes of paper towels for forty-five minutes, until they left.

“I own my own business. I work at SaveMart on the weekends, for extra cash.”

“What do you need extra cash for, if you own a business? You’re the boss, give yourself a raise.”

“I hear that all the time,” Jack laughed. “I wish it worked that way.”

Crystal looked at Jack, and smiled. “I thought you looked a little old for SaveMart.”

Jack heard the door slap shut, and plodding footsteps approach. He looked at Crystal one last time before Kyle was able to divert his attention.

Crystal took one look at her brother as he returned with three beers in his hands. “Ohh, Mom’s gone, so you think you can do whatever you want, huh?”

Jack looked, as Kyle passed beers out. He kept one for himself.

“Oh shit, that’s right. You’re only twenty,” Jack said.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve been drinking since I was sixteen.” Kyle took an extra long swig to prove his point.

Crystal dangled her foot off the bench, then pushed off the ground again. “Yeah, I still remember having to clean up your mess, after you puked all over my room.”

“So,” Jack said, changing the subject. “What do you guys do for fun, around here?”

“Drink.” Kyle answered.

Jack looked at Crystal. He saw a glimpse of her tongue as she opened her mouth and led the long stemmed bottle to her lips.

He let his eyes linger on her as long as he dared, then said, “I’ll bet you know how to find trouble.”

“We should go out to the woods,” Crystal said.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Kyle said. “Jack’s not feeling–”

“I feel fine. I’m good,” Jack said. “I just needed a beer.”

Jack stood, and faced Crystal. “Let's go.”



JACK DID NOT LIKE the outdoors. But the summer had lingered, and the surrounding trees that enveloped them made Jack feel like an alien visitor in a strange place. The fact that, even when they did venture back from the woods, he would be greeted by the equally unfamiliar trailer park, comforted him. His stress, and bills, and worries waited, but not anywhere near this place.

“We should take him to our old fort,” Kyle said. “We used to have this place, well, it wasn’t a fort. But that’s what we called it. It was cool. You’ll like it.”

Crystal led the way through a few feet of thick brush, that gave way to thinner greenery. “Kyle, it’s been a long time, it’ll be a lot smaller than you think. Besides, it’s just a little circle of trees.”

“A clearing. Sounds good to me,” Jack said.

“No. No one cleared it. It’s just like that. Like a natural fort.” Kyle said.

Jack bit his tongue. Did Crystal know her brother was an idiot?

Jack mirrored Crystal's steps, and pulled in a little closer. “This must have been a fun place to grow up.”

Regardless of which sibling Jack had meant his statement for, Kyle had responded anyway. “This place? Are you kidding? This place sucks. Trust me, there’s nothing to do here.”

Jack did not know whether he was putting a positive spin on things because of Crystal, or he was really starting to warm up to the place, but he defended his position. “Lot a kids here, room to run around. Plus, the woods.”

“Oh, we had a good time, trust me,” Crystal said, with a flirtatious smile.

“Yeah, we always played baseball in that field over there,” Kyle added, as they walked.

The only thing keeping Jack from breaking off a tree branch, whittling it down into a shiv, and stabbing Kyle to death, was the slight chance that Crystal might be put off by the fact that her brother had just been killed. His chances would be dashed. So, Jack decided on a nonviolent course of action.

As the trio neared the childhood fort, Jack pulled out his phone and checked the time. “Hey, Kyle. It’s one o’clock. Aren’t your friends supposed to be here?”

“Oh, shit. It’s one?” Kyle asked. “Come on, we gotta go back.”

With a glance, Jack told Crystal that he would handle this. “Why don’t you go back, and see if they’re there. I wanna see the fort. Crack open some more beers, and we’ll be right behind you.”

Jack could see the wheels turning in Kyle’s brain. He imagined what he must be thinking. Of course Jack would want to see a cool fort, like this. Why else would he want to stay out in the woods?

“Great idea,” Kyle said.

Jack watched Kyle walk back to the park, and counted to fifteen in his mind.

“Ok,” Jack turned to Crystal. “Let's see it.”

Crystal fought, and lost, a battle with an oncoming grin. “You’re shameless.”

Jack looked at her daisy dukes as she bent over. She fought her way into her forgotten playground. He wondered just how far he would get. Trailer park girls had a reputation. Maybe living in a place like this wouldn’t be so bad, after all.

“There’s not much room,” she said, as they stood up in the tiny clearing.

Jack surveyed the fort. The trees and brush would have made a perfect hiding spot, in the summer. But the dead and dying leaves did not provide near as much cover. They were exposed, but Jack did not care. “I don’t mind tight spaces.”

Crystal rolled her eyes. “Enough with the lines. I’m here.”

Jack pulled her close, and kissed her. His hands wandered to her back, then down. He squeezed, and held on, as he lifted her, just enough to lay her down on a bed of cracked and broken leaves.



WALKING BACK, JACK HAD never felt so euphoric. He knew the science of his experience. Endorphins were released in his brain. A Cro-Magnon reward for attempting to propagate the species. But this was different. More than brain chemistry.

Crystal told him about growing up in a trailer park. She told him about how difficult it was for the repo-man. Every time one came, half the community would come out and throw glass bottles, and rocks, and sticks. Once, the old man on the corner, had fired off his shotgun.

Jack held Crystal’s fingers in one hand, and her shoes in the other. She had put them on before going into the woods. But decided to stay barefoot after shedding them in the fort.

Jack wondered, if he threw her shoes back into the woods, to be lost forever, would she really miss them? She only seemed to wear them when she absolutely had to. And this life did not require much.

Jack had worked so hard to stay at a certain standard of living. But these people, they didn’t stress. They had accepted their station, but they weren’t drinking themselves to death. They were drinking, and living, and having sex in the woods.

“What took you guys so long?” Kyle yelled, unconcerned that he might be waking someone up.

“We got lost,” Jack said, without bothering to sound convincing.

Kyle hurried toward them, out of the darkness. Jack and Crystal dropped each other’s hand.

“Carlo fixed your car.”

“How much?” Jack asked.

Kyle shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. He said it was an easy fix.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Come on, I want you to meet the guys.”



THE NEXT DAY AT SaveMart Jack strolled down the pasta isle. He had not grabbed a cart to work, and was not in a hurry to do so. He did not know if he was looking forward to seeing Kyle or not. So he put it out of his mind.

He untucked his shirt to see what all the fuss was about. But Jack quickly decided that it was not for him, and tucked it back in.

Two hours later, when he saw Kyle, he could not help but shake his head at Kyle’s ridiculous gait, and ill-fitting khakis. But he did not try to avoid him.

“Hey,” Kyle said, loudly while he was still twenty feet away. “Admit it, you’re glad your car wouldn’t start.”

“It was fun,” Jack admitted.

The pair stocked the cereal aisle, then moved on to canned goods. Bored of work, they meandered back and forth between the floor and backroom. The store was big enough to avoid the manager’s hawk-like eyes, if they kept moving.

As usual, Kyle blathered. But this time, Jack joined in. He told Kyle about his financial troubles. He could not miss another payment on his condo, or he would be out on the street.

Kyle suggested, as Jack assumed he would, that Jack buy a trailer in his neighborhood. It was only a few thousand dollars, he said.

Sooner or later, if his business did not pick up, Jack would have to do something drastic like that. But for the first time, the thought of downgrading did not terrify him.

“It crossed my mind, actually,” Jack said. “Maybe.”

A manager ambushed Jack and Kyle when they were browsing through the magazine rack. “You two working for our magazine vendor now?”

Jack spun around. He thought quickly on his feet. “We found a magazine in the dog food isle. Just putting it back.”

“Well, that’s your excuse,” the Manager said, then turned his attention to Kyle. “But it doesn’t take both of you to return a magazine.”

Kyle froze.

The Manager continued, “And if it does, then we’re paying you way too much.”

“Uh, sorry–” Kyle started.

“And how many times have I told you to tuck that shirt in?”



JACK BUSIED HIMSELF WITH in the produce section while Kyle served his punishment: mopping the backroom. He said he would try to find Jack when he was done. It would not have been much longer now.

A broken produce mister was getting the better of him, when Jack noticed someone he knew. A neighbor of his, looking lost in the pop aisle.

“Can I help you find anything, sir?” Jack said.

The man turned, and began to ask where the lightbulbs were. “Jack! I didn’t even recognize you.”

The man slapped Jack on the shoulder. “I didn’t know you worked here. Boy, you must never have a day off.”


Jack wiped a few beads of perspiration from his forehead, and forced a smile. This was harder than he thought. “Yeah, I’ve been working here on the weekends for a few months. Keeps me out of trouble.”

The man laughed, and asked Jack about his start-up business.

“It’s going good. Really good. We’re turning a profit.”

The two made small talk for another minute. Jack relaxed. He did not have a secret to hide. No need to keep up appearances. It felt good.

Looking back, Jack wished he had ended the conversation, just a half a minute earlier.

Kyle ambled down the rows of two liters, and inserted himself into Jack’s conversation. “Hey.”

Jack took a breath, and introduced Kyle. “This is my neighbor, Rob.”

“Neighbor? Did you break the bad news?” Kyle asked.

For a split second, Jack honestly did not know what Kyle was referring to. He paused.

“Bad news?” Rob, the neighbor, asked.

“Jack’s gonna move,” Kyle said.

Rob’s eyes widened, he twisted toward Jack. “Really?”

“Well–”

“Yeah,” Kyle continued. “He’s gonna move in, right by me.”

“Well–”

“Oh, I see. Where do you live?” Rob asked Kyle.

“Just down the street, here,” Kyle said, pointing. “There’s a trailer park right there. You’ve probably passed it, and never realized.”

“So you live somewhere over there?”

“Yeah, I live in the trailer park.”

Rob’s face registered before his words could catch up. His eyebrows went up, and he nodded a few times.

“Oh. Great. Very good,” Rob said, politely.

Every muscle in Jack’s body tensed. He said nothing.

“Well,” Rob said, lightly touching Jack’s shoulder again. “I gotta get going.”

Jack nodded, and gave a tight, awkward smile.

Rob looked to Kyle. And with a wave, said, “Nice meeting you.”

Jack turned and power-walked toward the backroom. Kyle quickly followed.

“Hey, why are managers such dicks. It’s like they won’t hire anyone else. That was funny though. When we to the backroom, and you were stocking, or whatever, he was like, ‘if I have to tell you one more time, you’ll be cleaning the toilets everyday for a month.’ ”

Kyle laughed. “Man that was funny.”

As soon as they reached the backroom, Jack spun on his heel, doing a 180. “Kyle, stop.”

His words hung in the air. Too late now, Jack thought. Might as well be a dick.

“Kyle, you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I have ever met in my entire life. I cannot stand you. You’re clueless, you’re a mess. And you’re a fucking idiot.”

Jack walked back onto the floor. He walked down the pasta isle. He walked past the cash registers, to the front door.

His manager stood, nodding his head as an old lady complained about an expired coupon.

Jack interrupted the old lady, and said, “I quit.”

Jack walked toward the front door. Before leaving, he reached up with both hands, and yanked his picture off the wall.