Rue Norbert's Secret Adventure

1. NICE COMB OVER

  “Whatcha doin’ ‘ere so early?” Gary mumbled through yawns. He tugged his sleeves and shirt slightly straighter, a failed attempt that he was paying attention.

    Why not?” Rue asked. He was wide awake, but his friend needed some convincing. “And besides. ’t’s like, seven thirty.”

    “AM!” Gary argued. “Well, it may be news to you, Rue, but I like to sleep, you don’t sleep, and I’m tired. So spit it out before I yawn in your face or I’ll kick you out!”

    “Puh. Shaw. I have the key to your house,” Rue plopped. The words dropped out more harshly than he’d intended.

    “Yeah, along with, lemme see, the key to life?”

    “Why should you care?” He was half- sure that Gary hadn’t picked up on the cue of rudeness, but to be safe, he changed the subject.

    “So… you do night studies?”

    “Sometimes,” Gary admitted with a sleepy grin. “You?”

    “Pfuh. No.”

    “Liar!” Gary stuck out his tongue.

    “Oh, yeah,” Rue said more seriously. He wanted Gary to pay attention to something important. “What’s next, ‘Pants on fire?’”

    “Okay, okay, okay… just tell me what the big news is.”

    In an effort to regain significance, Rue gave Gary a chance to sit up straighter; Rue did. But Gary ignored the hint.

    “Job interviews!” Rue said brightly. He bit his tongue to see what Gary’s expression was. It was tragic compared to how glad Rue thought he’d be.

    Gary choked on his spit. “Job… interviews? Rue Norbert Patel! Who- what- I’mean- wha-where?! When?! What the HELL!”

    “Okay.. Just, uh, calm down, alright?” Rue said with a nervous grin.

    “When, Rue, and where?! Tell me- now!”

    Rue made his best endeavor to sound somewhat casual. “At that ‘Leaf’ place?” The answer didn’t sound much like an answer at all; it sounded more like a question. “Y’know… it helps people get jobs?”

    “Does it help us get jobs?” Gary somewhat glared. “Or, more like it, does it help us in any way?” Rue had interrupted his slumber, and now he was shoving a goddamn job interview down his throat. But Gary was in between barriers at the moment; he was broke and he seriously needed to start paying off loans to get himself an apartment. These were the only thing that told him to accept.

    However, Rue was inclined to give a better reason. “Kinda. So, here’s the thing: we help people find employment,” he started, in his best effort to sound formal. A lighter tone added, “In other words, we look like we have all the answers, we get paid, you pay off your loans, get a place, all that shit, and-”

    “And?..” Gary said, his mouth open in silent question.

    Rue waited no longer for the tension to build, because he was fifty- fifty on this next part. This much he knew: Gary would either flip out or dislike it but slightly agree. “And move out of Luxembourg?..” Like it had before, the answer sounded more like a question.

    Gary’s face was a dead expression. He wondered what would really happen. To really move out of Luxembourg? He didn’t bother to ask Rue where exactly he planned to live after college, but he didn’t really care. If he could, he tried to live it in the moment.

  

“Well, that’s my news, so, uh, ya might wanna get dressed, because the interviews… well they’re in, like, fifteen minutes.”

    He was gone before Gary caught his breath and his heartbeat. Leave it to Rue! He thought. Leave it to him for last- minute emergencies!

    As soon as Gary stopped inside the booth of Leaf Offices, he saw Rue; he gaped, because Rue looked ridiculous- but only on account of rising to the occasion. He wore a cobalt, plaid chemise and finally combed his hair. He looked- for lack of Gary’s better vocab- good.

    “’Kay, I’m due,” Rue said halfheartedly. “?Just remember to at least try and look good on your way in. Nice comb over type good.” He slapped the phrase down like a winning hand in poker, complete with air quotes.

    Gary frowned at him. Then he shook his head.

  

Rue melted under the stare of Paul Schauer, his consultant. “Mr. Patel,” he said in a nasally voice, “your piece goes first.” When Rue didn’t respond, Mr. Schauer huffed and gazed rather harshly towards his interviewee. “That’s how this works,” he replied, nodding his head in an “it’s okay” type of way.

    Mr. Schauer’s voice sounded a lot like a bullfrog with allergies, about to sneeze or do something full of phlegm. It made Rue derisory. He shifted in his seat.

    “Well, then, Mr. Patel, let’s know more about your background. College degree, previous employment, something that makes us want you here?” Thought, the way it came out, the words sounded rolled up as sushi. Rue tried to keep a business-y face.

    “Well, currently no employment, but I’m enrolled at Grant University,” he gushed.

    “Hmmm…” Paul drifted. “When do you start classes?”

    Rue Norbert’s mouth dropped unconsciously, but as soon as he realized it, he corrected his better behavior. Did he really think he wasn’t in college? He was a sophomore! Two entire years! And suddenly there was an awkward silence.

    So much for self esteem!

    Gary was “lucky” enough to get someone different. Different.

    He stared. Babitha Waeyne was covered from head to toe with tattoos and piercings. But she looked like she could run the government the way her posture was and her gleaming eyes (pierced and filled with eyeliner and eye shadow, and caked with mascara.)

    “Do you by any chance go to school?” Babitha asked. It bothered Gary how she added in, ever so sassily, ‘by any chance’. But he was already a screwed up guy, so he hut himself up. “I need this job!” he kept telling himself.

    However, he tried not to sound too eager, because he feared that Ms. Babitha Waeyne could read his mind.

  

She didn’t look impressed. Shit.

    Back at Gary’s place, the two had a chat. “Rue, you can’t just spring this on me. I mean, I haven’t even graduated yet,” Gary reasoned, his voice only beckoning a peep of resistance.

    “Hey, we’re not graduates.”

    Gary shot him a scowl. “So what makes ya think we have even a tiny shot at this?”

    “Touché,” he sighed. “But it makes it more interesting.” He hoped secretly that Gary hadn’t asked. He had no answer. Down to earth, no number of finance classes from a community college could pull a non-grad into a job to help people get jobs.

    "Rue, why'd ya do this?"

    "I dunno. But it's not like I can cancel now." Don't it always seem to go ya don't know what ya got 'til it's gone... But Rue didn't know what he had before, so the words to Big Yellow Taxi didn't help. Besides, it had played on the radio and was stuck in his head, so he wasn't in any shortage of time to figure it out. He smiled a half-smile,  a crooked one, flat like the sky.

    Garry didn’t look impressed. Shit.