2. The New Hire

TWO

THE NEW HIRE

NICHOLAS

If there was one thing I've learned in my life, it was this: When you have a gut feeling, trust it.

Without it, I wouldn't have left Indiana for good a week ago. I wouldn't still be traveling the country sixteen years after leaving my hometown. If I hadn't trusted my gut, I wouldn't have a MyTube channel and about a thousand videos to remember my journey by. I wouldn't have headed east yesterday instead of south.

Hell, I certainly wouldn't have ended up at this gas station when I followed the signs for Seastone—simply because it was such an inherently strange name for a town surrounded by mountains about four hundred miles away from anything remotely resembling an ocean.

There was no way I would not trust my gut on this job.

The cute gas station attendant I was talking to didn't seem to be so sure about it, though. He stared at me as if I had just asked him to help me bury my ex-boyfriend. The eye patch he wore made him look like a pirate, though his blue jeans and red company shirt should have been a clue that this wasn't an early Halloween costume.

"Can you introduce me to the manager?" I asked, putting on the friendliest smile I could muster.

His uncovered eye didn't move for five seconds, glued to my face. " Why do you want to work here ?"

His question sounded like he was asking why anyone would want to work in this place. He didn't give it enough credit. The forest and mountains around it were just beautiful and made it seem like no one was around for hundreds of miles. The store was surprisingly tidy, smelled of fresh coffee, and the food counter and restrooms were clean. That was more than I could say for most gas stations I've been to. Not to mention the cute and very gay attendant who flirted with me like a true pirate would.

"This place looks like fun," I answered his question.

His eyebrows raised as he looked around the empty, wet parking lot. "You're weird."

"I told you, I was."

"That sign isn't up there for fun. I actually need help."

"And I actually want 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 ‘Nicholas burns in 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 now [email protected] written 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.

I looked at it for a second before shaking it. His grip was firm, and his hands clearly knew how to work.

His eyes met mine. "Welcome to Seastone."

It wasn't until I passed the cliff beside the mountain road leading into town that I realized how quickly I had decided that this might be a place to stay for a while, even though the only thing I had seen so far was the gas station.

I passed a faded painted sign welcoming me to Seastone, the cornerstone of the Appalachians. Just a hundred feet past it, the road turned right, revealing a few dozen buildings nestled among the trees in the valley. The gray clouds hung low, painting everything in a color that makes you want to hide under a blanket for the rest of the day.

The closer I got to the town, the more I understood why Jason asked me what I was doing here. Except for a few houses, a diner, a grocery store, and some farmland, there was nothing noteworthy—no movie theater or anything else to go to in the evenings, no prominent building to give the town an interesting skyline, not even anyone was out on the streets, driving anywhere, which made sense if there was nothing for people to go to.

Driving slowly, I took it all in to see where my gut was taking me. I turned into a small street on my right. The housing got a little denser, and the buildings were taller, even though their red brick facades couldn't hide the fact that most of them were abandoned. The parking lots on both sides of the street were empty, and there was no sign to indicate that you even had to pay for them.

I pulled my minivan up to a building where a change in the color of the bricks told me it had once been a post office.

This town was as dead as a doornail. I parked my car, pulled the hood of my sweater over my head, grabbed my phone, and jumped out.

The rain had given Seastone a break, but the dark sky made everything seem even more moody than it already was.

Some steam evaporated from a storm drain at the end of the street, and it felt like any second now, the manhole cover could be lifted to make way for zombies to take over the town.

I opened the camera app on my phone and framed the abandoned buildings with the steam rising between them. The few people who subscribed to my channel will love this. They were just like me, people who enjoyed abandoned places, the stories told about them, and exploring things that would make normal people run as fast as they could.

The street led me to a boulevard that was completely deserted. Ten small shops lined up next to each other, either with faded "total clearance" signs still up or completely covered windows with cobwebs in the corners. I shot videos of every little detail I could spot: cracks in the walls, a wooden door that looked like someone or something had scratched it hard to get in, and just as I was getting a shot of the street with the mountains in the background, thunder lit up the sky as if on cue.

A shiver ran down my spine. The drizzle came back, and within thirty seconds, it was pouring like it was the end of time. If this had been the set of a horror movie, it was almost as if someone had found the special effects control unit and pushed all the buttons. Since my car was about ten minutes away by foot, I rushed into the covered entrance of the only three-story building with a gray facade.

The rain was so heavy that it splashed off the ground and right onto my pants, but at least most of my body stayed dry. I held up my phone and positioned myself in the frame. "This is just crazy. You won't believe it. I think I'm in love. This town is like something out of a horror movie."

The door behind me opened with a squeak, startling me so much that my phone slipped out of my hand. I fumbled to keep it from hitting the floor, and after an odd little dance, I got ahold of it again and turned around.

The guy in the doorway staring at me wore a familiar yellow raincoat. He narrowed his eyes as if trying to remember where he had seen me before, but I remembered him clearly. It was the other dude from the gas station this morning, whispering so loud with Jason that I could hear every word of their conversation.

"Sorry," I said, taking off the hood of my sweater so he could see my face better. I pointed to the small roof above us. "Just looking for some shelter from the rain."

His eyes darted to the street, and he made a face as if he would melt like an evil witch if he went out there now. "Understandable. A minute ago, it looked like it was finally over." Closing the door behind him with a click of the latch as it sealed shut, he sought shelter from the rain next to me.

We both faced the street, staring at the downpour. It was like a curtain separating us from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

He pulled a phone out of his raincoat and stared at it for a second before making a face and putting it back where it came from. "Didn't I see you at the gas station two hours ago?"

"Yeah. I'm the guy you told Jason to ask out on a date," I replied with a laugh.

His eyes went wide, and his ears flushed as he slowly lowered his gaze as if he was about to faint. "Sorry if that made you uncomfortable."

"No worries. At my age, it is a compliment," I replied.

He peered at me out of the corner of his eye. "You don't look that old."

It was funny to watch him deliberately try not to look at me. "Any gay man older than thirty is basically as good as dead."

"So I should consider myself lucky to have five more years?"

"First, you shouldn't believe that sentence at all. Even at thirty-four, I'm still very much alive."

A smile crossed his face, and he finally glanced at me.

"I'm Nicholas," I said, holding out my hand. If I was going to stay in this town for a while, it wouldn't hurt to meet some people, and judging from what I'd seen so far, it looked like he and Jason would probably be about the only gay people I would meet here.

"Jack," he replied, putting his hand in mine. "If you ever need to get anything done around the house, I'm your man."

"Jack, the Ripper ?" I said, biting my lip because I couldn't keep it in. I shook his hand and my head. "Sorry. I can't keep my mouth shut when I should." I let go of his hand. "So, you're a handyman?"

Ignoring my comment, he nodded and pulled a business card out of his coat. " Home Service Expert is what I like to call myself. I do everything. I can fix things, clean your house, walk your dog, go shopping for you—whatever you need. If you live in Ashbourne, that's fine too. I can come anywhere within an hour's drive."

I took the card and looked at it. It was the second one I had been given today and also the second one I had ever received from anyone. They must still be popular here because of all the old people. I held it up and smiled at him. "If I ever own a house, I'll call you."

The rain intensified, now accompanied by tiny hailstones. For another minute, we stood side by side, staring at the weather. Jack pulled out his phone again and, after looking at it, whimpered like a dog that had to go outside. Not knowing if my presence or something else was bothering him, I took a step away, just in case.

He slid his phone back into his coat and sighed. "I'm sorry about this morning. It was a stupid thing to say."

"Again, don't worry about it. You were just trying to encourage your friend. And if it helps, I would have said yes if he had asked me."

"I knew it." Jack slapped his right hand onto his leg. "The way you talked to him? That wasn't just straight guy-talk." He dropped his head, shaking it from side to side. " Damn. But I understood it right that he didn't ask you?"

"Well, to be fair, I didn't ask him either."

"I don't understand why no one takes their chances. It's not like you get them every day. Especially not around here."

His words struck me like a punch in the gut. My last date had been a couple of months ago and ended before we made it to the restaurant because the guy got a text from his roommate that their cats were sick, and he decided that this was a higher priority than me. The older I got, the harder it became to even meet someone, let alone just bluntly ask someone out. "Well, we'll see what tomorrow will bring."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were planning on coming back here tomorrow."

Now that I had taken the job at the gas station head over heels, it was more like I wasn't leaving. "Does it sound that ridiculous?"

"Unusual would be a better word. For most people, it is: Once you've seen Seastone, you wish you didn't."

The rain subsided, and as if the sky was mocking us, a streak of light broke through the clouds, creating a glowing rainbow over the buildings.

My hand automatically lifted my phone and snapped a picture. "I guess I have to stay for a while to find out if I'm going to be one of them."

Jack took in the natural spectacle in front of us. "Or if you get sucked into this place like we did and never leave again."

His words were cryptic, and at the same time, they weren't.

Who knew what the future would bring? But one thing was for certain. My gut now screamed that Seastone had more in store for me than it was letting on, and I was excited to find out why.

It was six thirty-two in the morning when Jason's white Honda pulled into the parking lot behind the gas station. I had been up since five and arrived just after six. I spent the last half hour eating a banana for breakfast, worrying about what kind of impression I would make today, and debating whether or not to ask Jason to meet me after work. So far, I hadn't come to any conclusion, and seeing him didn't miraculously stop me from pondering as I had hoped it would.

I stepped out of my car at the same time as Jason. It was cold outside, but at least it wasn't raining today.

Jason's red company shirt under his open jacket matched the color of the leaves on the one maple tree that held its ground among the pines.

He wore a brown eye patch today, which perked up a bit when he wrinkled his nose. "Not many people would be on time this early on a Monday morning." Surprise colored his voice and face, catching me off guard.

"Didn't expect to see me?" I asked as I walked up to him.

"No offense, but you can't even imagine how many people who had applied before ghosted me once they got an offer." His breath crystallized into a white haze as he spoke. "But I had a hunch you wouldn't be one of them when you sent me your resume like you promised."

"All I have is my word. So I have to keep it."

He hid his hands in his jacket pockets. "And I will keep mine." He nodded toward the back door. "Let's not waste time on small talk. Yesterday was slow enough for me to talk to you at length, but in half an hour, a gas truck will come around the corner, and I want to show you around first."

For the next fifteen minutes, I became his shadow as he went through the morning routine, explaining every little step. He was completely focused on the job—no furtive glances, no sly comments, no flirting.

I liked that.

Concentrating on the task at hand was hard enough when the guy teaching me was such a handsome man. I didn't need fate to test me any further. This was a job, after all, and I wanted to make a good impression, just like I would in any other workplace.

He showed me where all the light switches were, where all the merchandise was stored, and how to turn on the pumps and the coffee machine.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but this is the most important thing you need to learn today." He leaned against the counter, turned his ear toward the coffee machine, and when it beeped three times, he pointed to it. "That's the sound you need to wait for. Now…" He leaned in front of the display. "…let's make you a cup of coffee so I can show you the menu. What do you want?"

"Would you mind if I did it myself? I learn best with my hands." I held them up as if my point wouldn't be understood if I didn't show them.

He looked at my huge paws for a second before stepping aside. "I can't argue with that."

I leaned down to get a better look. As far as I could tell, it was the kind of coffee machine that did everything by itself. I've worked with similar machines before, so this shouldn't be hard. "What can I get for you?"

"Are you sure you don't want me to explain it first?"

"I'll pay for the machine if I break it."

He took a deep breath. "Then… I'll have a black coffee, please."

I confirmed his order with a smile as if he were a regular customer. "That's the best way to enjoy coffee, isn't it?"

He nodded, his eyes furrowed in concern as he focused on my fingers, ready to jump in if I did something wrong.

Only that, with these modern machines, there is nothing you can do wrong. I followed the instructions on the display, and a few seconds later, the black energy source was poured into a paper cup.

He pursed his lips. "Sorry if this is not how you imagined the job."

Being trained by a cute guy? "It's exactly what I thought it would be."

We watched the cup fill, and just before it was about to spill, the machine stopped, and a beep announced that the first coffee of the day was ready.

I grabbed the bottom of the cup, where it is usually the least hot, and glanced at the board above the machine to search for the price. "That's two fifty. Cash, check, or credit card?"

He took the coffee out of my hand and sniffed it as if to check if it smelled like it should. "We don't take checks. But I'll show you how to use the register later today." He nodded at the machine. "Don't forget to make yourself one, too. Hot beverages are on the house for all employees."

I turned around and followed his orders—also because I couldn't say no to free drinks.

"I know it's hard to understand," Jason said, "but it took my other three guys a couple of hours of training to get it right. If you keep working like this, you're going to get more important tasks in a hurry. Like… restocking the shelves or… mopping the floor ."

I put my hand to my heart to play along with his joke. "Wow. I feel so honored."

Jason sat back against the counter and took a sip of his coffee. "So you've had quite a few jobs since you started working," he said. "Interesting resume. Lots of gaps, not that they matter to me."

"The gaps are times when I was traveling and living off the money I had saved. I did a lot of small temporary things during those times, but a former employer pointed out that it would look bad if I had two hundred mini-jobs on my resume."

"Sounds reasonable."

"Do you already regret hiring me?"

He stared at me again, frowning like yesterday. "Three of your former bosses told me I would be a stupid fool if I didn't hire you on the spot when I called them yesterday. So, I'm going to give it another thirty minutes before I decide if I already regret it."

The deep honk of a truck made us both look up. The silver gas truck pulling into the parking lot was so big it couldn't have fit under the roof covering the pumps if it had wanted to.

Jason set his coffee down on the counter. "That's my cue. I'm going to step outside. You can enjoy your coffee until I get back." He walked past me, rushed into the break room for a second, and returned with a small printout that looked like a receipt before heading outside.

As he walked past the unused gas pumps, I couldn't help but stare after him. It was weird. I didn't know this guy at all, but there was just something about all of this that made it feel so… right . This, working here, making coffee, and watching him—it was like I was supposed to be here for some reason that I couldn't name yet.

The door of the truck opened, and a woman in her fifties, so pale you could think she had been bitten by a zombie, climbed out. A broad smile graced her face as she called out, "Mornin' love" to Jason.

He held up the receipt. "Good morning, Pam."

She rested her head on her right shoulder, her white-blonde hair ruffled against it, her smile growing even wider. "Well, look at you. Mr. Taft, being all polite today?"

"It's a new thing I'm trying. It costs extra, though."

He handed her the receipt from the break room, and she examined it. Her eyes darted between the numbers on it and the small manholes on the asphalt in front of her. "Let's fire her up." She walked to the side of the truck, opened the door of a small box attached to it, and did something I couldn't see. She came back up and unlocked a safety guard that looked like one from a roller coaster that goes over your shoulders. As the guard came up, the truck hissed.

Jason watched her, and I watched Jason. He pressed his arms into his hips and turned his back to me as if he wanted to show off his butt.

I shook my head. I shouldn't be staring at him so dreamily while I'm at work. My eyes wandered around the station.

There had to be something I could do to make myself useful. To prove to myself that my gut feeling about being here wasn't just about this man.