Becoming Who I am

1

"Damn it, Alex!" Alex's mother screamed in a shrill voice. "Look what you did!" Alex only half-heartedly glanced at the knocked-over glass of spilled milk. Like he put it there, she knocked it over, and she was so angry, you'd think she was talking about lava, and now the house was going to burn down. "Why'dont do something and clean up your mess?" I can't wait until you're 18 and I can kick your ass out!"

"TWO WEEKS, Mom!" Alex shouted back. "...and I will be out, no kicking required!" He grumbled, going to the kitchen to get stuff to clean up Mom's mess. He passed a mirror and inspected the young man looking back at him. He tried not to think that his reflection did not look like a boy nearly four years younger than he actually was. He had freckles under his cheeks, short, light, curly blond hair, and never any facial hair. He had been trying to get a job, but no one would hire him. No one could take him seriously, even though he drove himself to the business to apply.

There was one place that might hire him, but any because their posting had been up for three weeks, and it was perfect... He wasn't quite 18 yet, but other than that, he sounded perfect. If he could dance around that for just the next two weeks... It was perfect for him. The pay wasn't great, but it came with a place to live, and it looked pretty secure and quiet. He called the guy, who sounded pretty interested in interviewing him and didn't sound too wrinkled about Alex not quite being 18 yet.

Alex sat in a hot little office, across a desk from Frank, the owner of the "Little Your Store-Storage Palace'. "Kid, I like you!" Frank said. Frank who was a square man, with brown hair, sat across the desk, in his crisp dress shirt and tie. While not a heavy man he wasn't 'gaunt' than he ought and a deal-making smile. "Your story is good, and quite frankly, you're as desperate as I am." Frank paused, letting them both chuckle uneasily. "The pay is $14 an hour, and you'll have to be in the office 9 hours a day, 5 days a week, plus on Sunday. "You can bring a book or your computer and sit back here with the door open. I don't give a fuck, but I expect you to take care of our 'tenants'." Frank added a nod.

"That's 50 hours!" Jeremy said it with a bit of a smirk.

"Nothing gets by you, kid." Frank chuckled playfully. "But I see the dollar signs in your eyes, so I get it!' He added. "Go pee in this cup, and you can start tomorrow if it comes back blue." Frank held up a test strip. "Don't worry, I don't test for pot."

Alex rolled his eyes; he hadn't smoked pot since his first time, and he didn't see the appeal. "No worries about the drugs, sir." He paused. "About the next two weeks. You wanted me to start immediately." Alex stated, too afraid to ask.

"Oh yes, see, you obviously are going to mistakenly type in your birthday on the forms you're going to fill out on my computer here, say, by a month, an 8 instead of a 9 on the month, and we will both catch it on your 90-day eval." Frank chuckled. "I can't believe I'm desperate enough to hire a teenager to manage my facility."

"And I can't believe I'm going to be a manager!" Alex smirked, perhaps a bit too excited at the thought. His test came back blue, and he got the two-cent tour after filling out the new hire paperwork. "Last but not least, your new apartment!" Frank waved his arms, opening the door. "Facility 4, I think, has the largest apartment."

As the door opened, the smell of stale cigarette smoke, cat urine, and something else awful and unknown assaulted his nose. He wanted to run away, but where else was he going to get a job and a place to stay in two weeks? This was home. This had to be home. He fucking hated his mother. He was gay, and he was touched by the devil and went to hell. His grandmother fought for custody and got it when it was obvious to everyone but Alex that he was gay. His grandmother bought him a car and taught him to drive; she was his mom for a while. But then she passed a year ago, and he was back with the shrew.

Alex entered, inspecting the apartment room by room. The door opened to the living room; to the right was a small kitchen and dining area; to the left was the hallway to the bathroom and two bedrooms. Alex found the source of the cat smell, an old litter box in the bathroom, but the cigarette smell clung to him, and God only knew what burned on his nose. As Alex walked back up the hall, he ran his fingers up the wall behind him, leaving a clean streak wherever his fingers touched. He tried not to wince at the state of Home Sweet Home.

"Look, kid, I'll double your sign-on bonus." Frank said, taking out his wallet and counting out five hundred-dollar bills. "Since you will have to clean, paint, or whatever, to make this place liveable." He paused to count out five more. "And I'll even let you clock in as you clean."

Alex had never seen ten hundred-dollar bills before. That was a thousand dollars; the most he had ever had was $600, which his mom gave him for his car insurance after his grandmother's funeral.

"MOTHER!" Alex shouted as he came home, running to his room. "I have great news!"

"What's that!' She yelled back.

had been planning this for so long. His boxes were all packed—all six of them. He just put some clothes in his backpack. And grabbed the first two. "I have a job, and I have a place to live!" He said it proudly. "Good bye!" He said he was loading The last of his things into his trunk.

"Your pathetic ass will be back in two months, tops!" She said this from the doorway, shaking her head at him. Jeremey just shook his head. That was never going to happen.

That was the last thing he heard her say as he slammed his trunk shut, got in his car, and drove to the store. He drove to Walmart; he had to buy groceries, curtains, paint, a vacuum, a carpet cleaner, and cleaning supplies. He figured at least half of his bonus would go straight to housekeeping. By the time he got everything he needed, he had two shopping carts, and the cashier inspected all nine hundred dollar bills he paid with, so he inspected the fifty-dollar bill she gave him as change back and somehow managed to cram everything he bought into his car. He got to the storage complex. And entered his code, and the gate swung open for him. He left his things in the car and grabbed the cleaning supplies and groceries.

Alex started by tossing out the entire cat box, then starting in the front of the apartment, or the kitchen. Everything was coated in so much grime that little things stuck to his fingers. Alex decided to use the spare pair of dishwashing gloves to keep the grime off of him. A sacrifice to not getting sick—God knows what was lying around this kitchen. As Jeremey scrubbed walls, he wondered how pasta sauce got from the ceiling to the floor, but he decided he didn't want to know.

As he scoured the countertops with degreaser and elbow grease, he wondered why no one had taken this job. Was it just the mess in the apartment? Or was it the long hours? It couldn't have been just that there was going to be lots of overtime. Alex found himself pondering as he went from the kitchen walls to the living room walls, not even noticing that he was scrubbing bathroom walls until he ran into a bathroom sink. He couldn't believe it was 9 p.m. He had been cleaning for four hours now. He took the break he said he would, after he cleaned the oven, to bake a pizza and have some water. He got back to cleaning, not wanting to lose any steam. Soon there were no walls or bathrooms to scrub. And Alex set off on priming his new apartment, then painting it a nice light blue fog color with a foot-wide strip across the top of heartwarming red, which was nothing more than a large edger stroke across the top. By the time that was done, it was nearly one-thirty in the morning. He then built his new vacuum and emptied the canister once per room and once again on the last pass through the apartment.

With the walls painted, the carpets cleaned, and the litter box gone, it was starting to smell more like a home, Jeremy's home. He couldn't help beaming with pride. Building his carpet cleaner, which he was certain was woefully too small for this beyond filthy carpet. With two whole washes per three rooms with carpet. He was finally done, and it was only for am. Alex chuckled to himself, got his new mattress and sheet set out of his car, unrolled it on the floor of the room with a little bathroom in it, and set his alarm for 8 a.m. for his first day of work.