Car Wash

1

Kevin Flaherty stepped off the city bus and pulled his windbreaker tighter around him. The bus dropped him off a block from his job, and it was damn chilly this morning.

His teeth chattering, Kevin hurried down the street to the car wash. Okay, so maybe he should have finished college. Then he could have had prospects for a decent job when he got fired from his old one.

Laid off.

That was what they called it when they had no real reason to get rid of you but wanted to anyway. Four years at his stupid office job, and he’d received what? Two weeks’ severance.

Kevin was all right with being forced to take a crappy job in this poor economy. Shoot, at least he’d found something. But the killer blow had been having to sell his motorcycle. He didn’t have enough money to keep up the payments.

When he reached the car wash several of the other workers had already arrived. Many of them only spoke Spanish, and Kevin only spoke English, but they were friendly. They waved hello, and he stepped inside the tiny office that housed the cash register. He noted it was only slightly warmer inside.

“Good morning, Gabby,” he called to the cashier, plastering on his usual smile. Next to the register was a coffee pot and paper cups. He poured himself coffee.

“Good morning, Kevin.” Gabby Ramirez yawned. She was probably his only real friend there. She wouldn’t tell him her age, but he guessed she was somewhere around thirty-five. He knew she had two little boys who she kept promising to bring by one day so Kevin could meet them. “How you can be this cheerful at this hour, I don’t know.”

“It’s my perky personality.” Which happened to be very hard to keep up these days. No man, no bike, and no job. Okay, a half-assed job. He was behind in the rent for his apartment too.

“Flaherty, I’m not paying you to drink my coffee,” the owner, Mr. Lewis, barked, coming into the office. He was a large, middle-aged man with premature white hair. “Get out there and wash cars.”

Kevin glanced out the window. “There aren’t any yet.”

“Well, wait for them then.”

He tossed his now empty paper cup in the wastebasket and went behind the counter for his burgundy smock. As uniforms went it wasn’t that bad. It sort of matched the dyed red streaks in Kevin’s dark hair, and his first name was embroidered on the front. Next to it Gabby had stitched a little rainbow for him. At least it gave the ugly thing a little personality.

Mr. Lewis wasn’t such a bad boss. After all he’d given Kevin a chance even though he admitted he didn’t really need any more car washers. He was just a tad creepy and liked to act gruff, but Kevin couldn’t complain. He paid on time and divided the tips evenly.

“Hey, Kev,” Gabby called after him as he moved through the doorway.

“Yo?”

“We’re probably going to get lunch later today. Want anything?” Gabby asked him, her reading glasses perched on the end of her pert little nose.

Kevin bit his lip, his stomach growling in an automatic reaction to the thought of lunch. He’d only had a banana for breakfast.

He removed his wallet from the back pocket of his tattered work jeans and then opened it to check out his money situation. He had a dollar and some change for the bus fare home. Nothing else. His bank account had been negative too, when he’d checked at the automatic teller machine last night. It wouldn’t even let him take any money out. He was counting on the tips he would receive for the day to give him bus fare tomorrow.

Swallowing back disappointment and a little bit of shame, Kevin shoved his wallet back in his pocket. “That’s okay, I don’t need anything.”

“You sure?”

“Uh-huh.” Kevin walked outside before he gave in to the despair clawing at him. Talk of food and money only depressed him. Wallowing in self-pity wouldn’t get him fed or his rent paid.

Hardly anyone came to have their car washed this early, so it was pretty quiet. Some of the other guys stood off to the side chatting in Spanish. It made Kevin feel even more alone. They didn’t exclude him on purpose. It was his fault for never learning Spanish. He’d taken it back in high school but hadn’t paid a bit of attention. The only reason he’d even gotten a C in the class was because he’d charmed the teacher.

He should have made his last lover teach him some stuff. Raphael. Yeah, right. His name had really been Louis, but he’d renamed himself Raphael. Kevin snorted. Anyway, if the man had taught him Spanish, at least Kevin would have gotten somethingout of the affair. All he’d gotten was a big giant pain in the ass. And not in a good way, either.