Deliveries were probably Harper’s favorite part of the job. Mostly because he got to be away from the stuffy, loud Chinese restaurant, and that he could work on his own schedule…sort of. Mr. Hong gave them all a time limit, which was very reasonable, for how long it should take them to do each delivery. Harper usually completed his deliveries in half the time, leaving him time to finagle around elsewhere before returning, with excess time still present. He was one of the fastest on the team, and one of the only reasons he was still employed, as his boss had so eloquently explained earlier.
Although he was sure if his boss knew he was taking breaks during his deliveries, he’d probably be fired long ago.
Today, though, he took less breaks, simply because he was afraid those damn kids would find him. He recognized that it was silly to be scared of two kids, but considering they were crazy, he wasn’t taking any chances. He’d seen enough horror movies to know that mentally unstable children could fuck you up. He wasn’t about to do any underestimating.
Even though he didn’t see them, Cirrus’s words still rattled in his brain. Other worlds, portals, prophesies…that was Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter shit. That stuff didn’t actually happen. And even if it did, the fact that someone had said that he would be the one to make it all better…well, clearly, they had never met him or knew what he was like. Harper shook his head, tutting disapprovingly as Kesha yodeled through his speakers.
“I’m probably the least qualified person to entrust the fate of a world to,” Harper said into the air as he walked up a driveway, egg foo young in tow. “I mean, a Chinese delivery boy with a terrible work ethic and questionable people skills?” he pressed on the doorbell. “Crazy as fuck I tell you. Crazy as—” The door opened.
The last word came tumbling out before he could stop himself, and the middle-aged woman with chihuahua in hand didn’t seem impressed. He grinned anyways. “Here’s your order, ma’am! That’ll be $11.67!”
She paid exactly to the penny. “Thank you very much, and have a good—” the door shut in his face, the breeze of it smacking his face, “—night to you too,” he finished. When he reached his bike he added, “bitch!”
By the time he got back to the Chinese restaurant, Mr. Hong was waiting for him, arms crossed and standing next to a very tall stack of take-out boxes wrapped in a large bag.
“Do you know who I just got off phone with?” he asked.
“I’ll be honest. I don’t.”
“Customer says one of my bicycle boys call her bitch and say f-word in front of her.”
“And?” Harper dropped the bag of receipts and not-tips on the counter and headed to the time clock.
“Kinda funny that it come from one of your address.”
“Yeah, hilarious.” Harper wasn’t too worried. His boss wasn’t the type to take customer complaints too seriously. He was too busy actually running the place.
“What are you doing?”
Harper froze, fingers about to press buttons, “Punching…out?”
“Haha!” Mr. Hong laughed loudly, “Now that is really hilarious! You are not done yet, Hahpuh.” He patted thet all bundle, “This is last delivery of tonight. Here is address.”
Harper groaned but took the slip of paper anyways. After reading it he just groaned louder. “Are you kidding me? This place is on top of a hill! Who orders 8 shrimp fried rices anyways?”
“Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t care,” his boss waved his hand at him, “Now go do delivery. I don’t want more phone call of bitches and fucks.”
YOU ARE READING
Harper (NaNoWriMo 2014)
FantasyHarper's a man of few accomplishments and even fewer aspirations. He is perfectly content with his bicycle delivery boy job, his closet of an apartment, and his daily swim in the questionable town harbor. Being special was never something he had eve...
