The Job (original short story)
Award Winning Fiction
This short story was written by me and later won the Listowel Writer’s Week Creative Writing Award for Adults with Learning Difficutlies in May 2023.
The story below has been uploaded with permission from the commitee. I would like to thank the LWW for their award and approval in redistributing the piece.
The story now follows…
“And finally Kevin,” the interviewer asked, one broken light hanging loosely over his head “why do you want this job? This isn’t something a man of your age would be interested in.”
Kevin rubbed a gentle hand over his beard stubble. That one question had been on his mind the most during the leadup to this application. And more than any other query asked before it, he was more than prepared to answer it.
Finally he said,
“You see sir, my father, Kiran Young, was a notorious man in our neighbourhood. He tried to kill the president, hoping a car dropped from a construction crane would do the trick.
“Unfortunately though, the suspension of the winch was cautious of looney toons logic and nearly collapsed when it was being raised. The police were tipped off by the grating sounds of the machine, almost squealing in pain.
“I was the oldest of four children. My mother left when I was 5, and neither she nor anyone else would want to take me and my siblings in after my father’s actions. We were perceived as the devil’s children.
“So, seeing how my dad would be spending more than a summer at the slammer, it fell upon 10 year old me to provide for the rest of my brothers and sisters. Daunting as it was.
“First thing I did was apply for a position at my local library. The chief organisers were a little nervous about hiring me but they also admired that someone my age, with three smaller mouths to feed; was willing to work as long as they wanted.
“My tasks were helping the newer visitors to the library. Setting up reservation accounts, hosting reading mornings with parents on the weekends. When I wasn’t at school that is.
“College was far from my mind. Not just because of finances but also helping to look after my family as they aged up, moved through classes and years.
“By the time the last of them finished secondary school, they had all gotten their own jobs to provide for themselves. And as I turned 22 one of them suggested that I should go out into the world for myself.
“They had seen the amount of travel books I would often borrow then return the following day, and likely figured living those experiences instead of just reading them would be a nice pace changer for me. So I did.
“Next thing I know, I booked a holiday for myself for Egypt, around the time the revolutionaries were in the headlines. As dangerous as it was, the excitement felt, barely one camera shot from appearing in the history books was uncanny.
“During that time, I was in a market place when I came across an ancient soothsayer, his grey bread thin and long enough to drape the floor as his knelt.
“He must have seen something in me because he then tells me of the yet to be harnessed energy inside of me. That despite all the hurdles life had hit me, I had to prove further that I was willing to hit back.
“The man tasked me with a doable but lengthy task. A walk through the Rub-al-khali desert, all 600 miles worth. Do it in three days and a friend he knew would help me release that potential.
“I can’t even describe how hot it was. Every step I took felt like my shoes would just melt at any given moment. I might have even drunk the melted soles given how I wasn’t allowed to bring any water with me either.
“I was truly at the mercy of the elements. My nights filled with watching the stars for directions and to hug myself tightly as the winds attempted to peel my flesh off. And in the mornings, I was left to stagger, to slump aimlessly through the sea of sand, until I came across a line of tents the evening of my third day.
“In the lead tent, an old man with a grained face welcomed me. He was the sheikh of the caravan, having gotten wind from the Soothsayer of my arrival. He too saw something behind my dedication and asked if I could be his successor.
“Next morning, he and his men are up at dawn, wanting to train me in the art of sword fighting, horseback riding, all in an attempt to prepare for my coronation. The second in command, the sheikh’s only boy, wasn’t too happy with me.
“I felt responsible for the issue and asked the sheikh if his son could lead instead. The man agreed, just before he passed away the following week.
“At his funeral, I was given the leader’s blade, with arabic on the hilt. When translated from Arabic it read “To my greatest student. And to yours to come.”
“When I got home, it was just as my youngest brother graduated from law school.
“I bought the best suits and dresses I could afford for all of us and went to his graduation at College Dublin University.
“I could barely see him behind the literal tears of joy I had. Knowing everything I did for my family pay off, and to have it reconfirmed by my two mentors before me. I knew I had done well. And that is why I stand before you.”
Kevin did so, rising to his feet triumphantly as his interviewer watched from his stool.
“I have gone through all of that to be in the same room as you now, sir. And I would go through all of it again if it meant getting the job you are offering.”
The interviewer paused for a moment. He dabbed at his eye as some of his tears began to stain the table. Kevin smiled to himself.
Eventually the interviewer asked:
“That’s… that’s very touching Mr. Young.” he said, his voice shaking “But… what has this got to do with working as a janitor at McDonald’s?”
