I worked on-call at the library.

I scanned books as people returned them. I pulled hold slips from the printer and found books for people waiting to pick them up. I signed people onto the public computers.

I made friends with the security guard.

Sometimes, I collected a fine.

When things got quiet, I shelved.

Fiction.

History.

Biographies.

Reference.

When the cart was empty, I went back for another.

I could do it without thinking.

~

My dad came home from his Jeet Kune Do class one Saturday afternoon and told me I had a job.

“My instructor has a friend who’s an electrician. He needs an apprentice.”

I looked at him.

“I don’t know anything about electrical work.”

“Apparently that doesn’t matter.”

He paused.

“Just give it a try. I already said yes.”

~

Two weeks later, I showed up at my new employer’s house.

He was already outside.

Tall, with strong arms. He looked more like someone who should be carrying lumber than running a business.

He shook my hand.

“So, you’re going to work for me? How much experience do you have?”

I hesitated.

“I can shelve books. Before that I was bagging groceries—”

He stopped me.

“Doesn’t matter. Just do what I say and we’ll be good.”

He handed me a tool and pointed toward the house.

I followed him inside.

I didn’t yet know what any of the tools were for.

A few minutes later, I was on my stomach in a crawlspace.

It was dark enough that I couldn’t see the other end—only squares of light through the vents.

The dirt underneath me was damp, and something moved in the beam of my flashlight.

I stopped.

“Spider?”

“Probably. You afraid of spiders?”

“Not particularly.”

“Good.”

He disappeared ahead of me.

I followed.

By the time I crawled back out, dirt covered my shirt and my arms were scratched up.

Brody looked at me.

“You good?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Get the wire.”

I did. This time, I went in alone.

The next morning we went into an attic.

That was worse.

The heat hit me when I pulled myself through the opening. Fiberglass insulation covered everything. Within minutes, sweat ran down my back and the insulation stuck to my arms.

He was already moving.

“Come on. We need to run wire for the customer’s new lights.”

So I followed him between the rafters.

A few weeks later, I was pulling wire.
Then I was reading plans.
Then Brody started leaving me alone to finish things.

I came home itchy every night, fiberglass stuck to my skin, my fingers raw from working.
I loved it.

Then, on a Friday, he told me not to come back Monday.

That was it.

I assumed I’d screwed something up.

~

Monday morning, I went back to the library.

The cart was waiting.

I scanned the books.

I pushed it between the shelves.

I could do the job without thinking.