The bathroom window was open, and a warm breeze blew in through the screen. Tyler set down his toothbrush and took one last look in the mirror. He'd woken up with "Piece of My Heart" stuck in his head, and as he got ready for work he sang its chorus unabashedly, listening to his voice echo around the room. 

Leaving his towel and dirty clothes on the bathroom floor, he hurried across the kitchen. His grandmother stood in the living room, with her keys in her hand and her purse on her shoulder. "Are you about ready?" she asked, as he jogged past her to the stairs. "Just a minute," he called, and ran up to the attic. 

His wallet sat on the dresser, and he shoved it into his back pocket. He pried his hearing aid out of its charger, and stuck it in as he grabbed his phone. Marigold lay on his bed, curled into an orange ball. He ran back down the stairs to see the front door standing open, and his grandma waiting on the porch. He swung through the mesh storm door and let it bang closed behind him, and felt the heat of the summer day touch his skin.

************

"Do you have nice clothes to wear to church this week?" his grandma asked, as she flipped on her blinker and turned onto West Pine. The traffic became heavier, and they drove past fast food places and convenience stores, gas stations and a bank. Tyler set down his phone and asked, "Am I going to church?"

She sighed. "Well, as long as you're living here I'd like it if you came to church with me."

"But I don't really...."

"Do you have anything else you have to do Sunday mornings?"

Yeah, watch pornography.... 

"Well, do you?"

"No," he said. "I guess not."

They arrived at a row of old-looking brick buildings, and pulled into the empty parking lot. "Mike said to come in the back," Tyler said, unclicking his seat belt and grabbing his phone. 

"Well, walk around back, then."

He left the car and slammed his door, and his grandma circled out of the parking lot. A concrete path wound around the buildings, and he followed it until he arrived at a gravel alley. A beat-up pickup truck was parked near an open garage door, where a flock of pigeons fluttered in and out. Tyler stepped inside and found himself in an immense area that was kind of dark and very gray. 

So this is what a farm smells like, I reckon. A mountain of hay bales occupied one half of the floor, and a metal shelving system rose to the ceiling. Countless sacks of grain were piled on top of each other, and he walked past a forklift and a giant whirling fan. A normal-size door was at the back wall, and he turned its knob and walked through. 

The room he entered looked like a convenience store that had moved down South and acquired an accent. The shelves held rabbit food and dog food, catfish food and dried worms for reptiles. There were little booklets on a rotating stand, and a refrigerated case with drinks and snacks. Behind a glass counter, the cash register drawer was open, and his Uncle Lee stood before it with a stack of papers and a calculator. He looked up when Tyler walked in, glanced over his shoulder and called, "Mike, the hired help is here!"

His Uncle Mike stepped out of a back doorway, holding a phone to his ear. Tyler crossed the floor and walked around him, into a room with a table and shelves and file cabinets. Mike pointed to a chair and Tyler sat, and waited for Mike to end his call. 

He hit a button and set down his phone. "I'll get you an application to fill out... then we'll show you what you'll be doing." 

"But I definitely have the job, don't I?"

"Yeah, but you still need to fill out an application."

He left the room and returned a minute later, holding a laptop and a form to fill out. He set the paper and a pen before Tyler, set down the laptop, and left again. Tyler picked up the pen and looked at the sheet. He filled out his name, birthdate, and Social Security number. His address, phone number and email. His emergency contact: Grandmama. 

Level of education completed: High school. 

Reason for leaving last job: Fired. 

Have you ever been convicted of a crime? Yes. 

If "yes," explain the circumstances: You already know the circumstances. 

His uncle came back in and sat down, and Tyler pushed his application across the table. Mike perused the sheet of paper while typing on his keyboard. He held out his hand and asked, "Can I see your I.D.?"

Tyler pulled his wallet from his back pocket, and slid out a card. "Oh wait, that's the fake one." He found his driver's license and slid it across the table. Mike took it and left the room, and returned a few minutes later. He gave Tyler back his license and said, "Let me see that other thing."

"What other thing?" 

"That fake I.D."

"Why?" He laughed, and pulled it from his wallet. Mike took it and examined it. "Where did you get this?" 

"From this guy."

"First of all, you don't look twenty-six.... Have you ever actually used this?" 

"No, not yet."

"Anyone could tell it's a fake."

"My friend used his."

"Just possessing it is probably a crime. You really need to just cut it up and throw it away.... How much did it cost, anyway?"

"Fifty bucks."

"Throw it away," he said, and handed the card back to him. "I'll think about it," Tyler said, and stuck it back in his wallet. 

He followed Mike back to the other room. Lee was closing the cash register, and a woman in jeans and flannel had come in the back door. "This is Jen," Mike said. "Jen, this is Tyler. You'll be doing the same job."

"Hey," she said. "You're their nephew?"

"Mm-hmm." He gestured. "Mike's my mom's brother."

"Well," said Mike, "let's go to the warehouse and I'll show you what you'll be doing."

"Mm-kay."

He followed Mike through the door, and Jen walked behind. They stepped up to a speaker on the wall, with some kind of machine next to it. "What happens," Mike said, speaking loudly over the fan, "is we get an order. Either someone comes by in person, they call it in, or they order online. Then I tell you through this speaker that we have an order, and the receipt comes out here." He pointed to a slot that looked kind of like a self-checkout at a grocery store. "You or Jen read the receipt and fill the order - measure what they want and dump it into a sack - and then either take it out front, or, if they ordered, drive it out to their farm." 

"Mm-kay... what's the forklift for?" 

"Really heavy orders," Jen said. 

"Can you drive a stick shift?" Mike asked.

"Yeah.... Well, I never have, but... yeah, I can."

Mike sighed, and looked at the forklift. He looked back at Tyler and said, "Maybe Jen should just handle that for now. She's actually certified, so...."

************

At the end of the day, his hair was sweaty and his muscles throbbed. He sat down on a hay bale and screwed open a bottle of water. Jen was gathering her purse and saying goodbye for the evening, and Lee was lowering the garage door, letting it crank down into place. Tyler felt his phone ring, and set down his water bottle to pull it from his pocket. 

He saw the word Mom and tapped the screen. How was your first day?

Good enough, he texted back, and grabbed his stuff. 

He went to the door and into the other room. On the other side of the windows, the sky was getting dark, and he saw Jen through the glass, walking to her car. Mike was behind the counter, locking the cash register, and Lee came in from the warehouse and locked the door behind him. 

Tyler stretched out his fingers and examined his hands. "Look at this," he said, and showed Mike some little red cuts. "Yeah," Mike said. "That happens. You should probably get a good pair of work gloves. And bring in a mask every day, just in case you need it."

"What, like just a Covid mask?"

"Mm-hmm."

Headlights shone through the windows, and they heard a car door slam. A minute later the bell above the door rang as his grandmother walked in. "Well," she asked, "how did everything go?"

"Good," Tyler said. "Good."

She looked at Mike. "He won't be here tomorrow, because...."

"The probation guy's coming," Tyler finished. 

"Oh, yeah," said Mike. He stepped into the office, switched off its lights and closed the door. "Do I need to come by?"

"Yeah, you'll have to sign something," Tyler said. "As proof that I have a job."

Lee walked into the room, and locked the door behind him. "Well," Mike asked, "what time?"

"He's coming at eight," Tyler said. "So, before then."

"And what all does he do?"

"Well, he searches the house for drugs, and he watches me urinate...."

Lee laughed. "He actually watches you?"

"Yeah, he sticks his face right down there. He has to actually see it come out."

"To make sure you ain't using someone else's...."

"Uh-huh."

"Well," Mike said, "guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Okay, good night," his grandma said, and she and Tyler stepped out the door.