THE 33 KEYS: Key 2 - ANSWER THE CALL "Listen for that Perfect Beat"

CHAPTER 19: THE RAT RACE

I let the candles burn down and make my mind up about who to choose. The ideal thing would be to repost it in the newspaper. As the more people see it, the better for me. But since I do not have money to waste, one of these girls will have to do. The dilemma is in deciding who. Do I stick it under just any door or pick the ones who are jobless?

Standing out in the hallway, it hits me that I do not know any of my neighbours besides Tessa. Of course not! What do you expect? This is the top floor, idiot! The elite are either at work or have parents footing all their bills. I walk one flight down, stand there thinking for a while then decide against it. The only place up from here is my floor. So what if I stick a prayer under someone's door and they take my place? Ground floor it is then.

Sure enough there are people walking around in nightgowns with tired faces. But Matron Caine must have never seen them or I would not be at the top of her eviction list. I wait until they are either in the toilet or their rooms, slip it under a random door and run on mute.

Back in my room, I plug the phone into the bulb's extension and settle down to freshen up my resume. The only thing that has changed is the bank job. I add that and save the document. Now it is just to look up advertisements online. I shower for five minutes; most of it spent avoiding the inevitable, me on the job hunt again.

I already know what I am going to find; jobs that ask for ridiculous experience, more qualifications than is necessary and an unbalanced paycheque. Then I will get in, do a great job and attract enemies from far and wide. This will lead to a team effort designed to make me look bad, and the manager will throw it all on me once the baked goodies and gourmet meals taste epic. There, you have it! Now I do not even have to bother applying. And I can save myself the associated stress too; all with one big fat stone. God! I am good at this.

I step out of the shower and get down to it anyway. So what if my future co-workers will hate me and want me gone? Zero surprises there. Been there; done that! Bartender, give me another round.

My goodness! I still can't believe that I've lived in Leer Island for four years and haven't settled down. Never mind the fact that my mother died leaving me penniless and unprepared for life. Everything can't be on her though. Maybe some of my problems came because I made the wrong choices. Pete, secluding myself from the past, leaving jobs on a whim; and all of it influenced by emotion. Nevertheless, now everything has come full circle.

So this time I've got to lock emotions off and really think about my future. If only that worked for the likes of me. I switch from my stuffy room to the oval room downstairs. Thankfully, Hazel isn't there to rain on my parade. Now I can really focus.

Let's see. What jobs have I run through before? The bank. Then there was that short stint at the zoo's cafeteria, after the burger joint, back when I almost joined that religion – Dream Killers, as I call them; a name they got after making my office clerk job unbearable, forcing me to leave it and take my rightful place next to the congregation's women, so I could save lives or something. Luckily, that unforgettable experience chased me into the church.

No; not for worship, just to keep the aisles and pews sparkling clean. And I did such a good job of it that Father Paul recommended me to the bank. It was supposed to be my moment to settle down and enjoy life. Now here I am, standing back at the starting line feeling like I never even moved an inch. Inhale.

Five ads jump out at me; two office clerk positions at the library, and High School; a cashier position at the post office; an assistant at the museum and an accounts clerk position at Leer Island University. Let's leave the other thirteen places on ice in case I mess up again.

I email my resume and cover letter off to each one, just changing company names and addresses on the cover letter, and then head back upstairs. The library book is sprawled open on my dresser. Every time I start to read it, I hear fingernails scratching a board. But never let it be said that Mary Pethiel left a book unread. I tiptoe upstairs to see if they forgot the roof door open again. Great! Finally, a reason to smile. Let's see if I can break a new record at speed reading. Exhale.