Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Flight of the Dodo - 8. Chapter 8
“Ed, could you come into the den with me?” E3 asked one evening at the dinner table. That was exactly one week after my fiasco at the Induction Center.
“Have I done something wrong?” I asked. I had cleaned my dinner plate, finished my apple pie and ice cream, and drank all of my milk, so I didn’t know why I should have to go into the den with E3.
“No, I need to talk to you about something I think might be important. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Oh, okay, then I will join you in the den.”
“Edvard talks funny,” E4 said. “Mommy, why does Edvard talk funny?”
“Hush, Ed talks the way he does because he is ill,” Syl said.
“Yeah, Eddie is nuts,” Emmett said.
“Emmett, you will apologize this minute,” E3 said. “Ed, can’t help the way he speaks.”
“Yeah, he does that because he is nuts,” Emmett said.
“Emmett, go to your room,” E3 said.
“Why should I? Everybody know Ed is nuts. He’s crazy. What I can’t understand is why he has to live here. All the kids at school laugh at me because Ed is wacko.”
“Emmett, come with me, now!” E3 said as he rose from the table.
“Hah, hah, Emmy is going to get whacks because Eddie is wacko,” E4 said.
“Eric Orton, you can join us,” E3 said.
“I’m sorry I said that, I won’t do it again,” E4 whined.
“Eric, go to your room,” Syl said.
“But I said I was sorry,” E4 pled.
“Eric, your mother told you to go to your room,” E3 said. “Now, go!”
“But—”
“Would you prefer joining Emmett and me in the den?” E3 asked.
“No!” E4 cried as he pushed his chair back and fled the dining room.
“Ed, you can wait until I’m finished with Emmett,” E3 said.
“Yes, E3, I will wait,” I said.
“Ah, the trials and tribulations of the Family Pedersen,” Erika said after E3 and Emmett left the dining room.
“Young lady, for that you can clear the table,” Syl said.
“At least I won’t get any whacks. Eddie, you okay?”
“Yes, Erika, I’m okay, but it worries me that Emmett is having trouble at school. That shouldn’t happen. I try to be normal, but I guess I don’t try hard enough.”
“For God’s sake, Ed, how can you be so stupid?” Syl said. “If you weren’t such a dodo besides being insane, you might be able to act like normal people.”
“I know I’m becoming a burden to the family. Maybe it is time for me leave.”
“And, where would you go? You’re barely intelligent enough to go to school and come home at the end of classes every day. And, thank God, I don’t have to worry about you doing that anymore.”
“But if children are laughing at Emmett because I live here, it doesn’t make sense for me to continue living here. I do have that trust fund that gives me some income. Maybe I could get an apartment somewhere. I think I could live by myself quite well.”
“What would you do about food?” Syl asked.
“Come here for my meals,” I said.
“Now, that’s a good idea. Right, Mom?” Erika said.
“Ed, if you lived in an apartment you would have to eat there,” Syl said. “I’ll talk to your father about this. Maybe it is time for your to move on. After all, you are eighteen and, maybe it is time for you to start acting like an adult. But, frankly, I think you’re too stupid to live by yourself. You’re just a dumb dodo.”
“Eddie, I’ll be sorry to see you go,” Erika said. “And that’s the God’s honest truth. You know, Mom, there might be a problem with Eddie’s meals. He doesn’t know how to cook.”
“Well, maybe it’s time he learned,” Syl said.
“Now, I gotta see that,” Erika said.
“In fact, it’s about time you learned how to cook, young lady,” Syl said.
“Yeah, Eddie and I could learn together. Isn’t that right, Eddie? You’d like to learn how to cook with me, right?”
“Yes, that does sound like a good idea,” I said.
“Good, we’ll start tomorrow morning,” Syl said.
“Ah, the secret of the three-minute egg,” Erika said. “And the art of preparing a grapefruit. This is going to be fun.”
“Ed? I’m ready for you,” E3 said at the archway to the dining room.
“Hey, I didn’t hear any crying,” Erika said. “Did you let Emmy off with a good talking to?”
“How I discipline my children is no business of yours, young lady,” E3 said. “Come on, Ed, this is important.”
“Syl, may I be excused from the table?” I asked.
“Yes, Ed, you may go with your father,” Syl said.
I scooted my chair away from the table, stood up, and put my chair back under the table. I walked toward E3, but he turned and walked into the hall. That wasn’t a good sign. Obviously, he was angry with me for some reason. I walked into the den behind E3 and I saw Emmett standing at the left side bookcase and looking down at the floor. I couldn’t tell if he received any whacks.
“Emmett, you’re on,” E3 said.
Emmett turned around and looked at me. His eyes were red, so he must have been crying. Then he said, “Eddie, I apologize for saying those horrible words. I know you are seriously ill and can’t help yourself. And I do like you as a brother.”
Knowing this was my moment to be the good big brother, I said, “Emmett I accept you apology. You are a great brother and I know I’m difficult to live with. I’m sorry that other children are laughing at you because you have me as a brother. I was talking with Syl and she will be talking with E3 about me moving out on my own. I will miss you.”
“What’s this about you moving out?” E3 asked.
“I have decided that, and Syl seems to agree, I’m an unnecessary burden on this family and I need to move out on my own. Syl has agreed to teach me how to cook so I can be truly independent. Father, I do hope you will agree to this future arrangement.”
“Wow, Eddie, where are you going to go?” Emmett asked.
“I will find an apartment somewhere in the city that will be suitable for me.”
“Boy, that’s a kick. Yeah, that’s something else.”
“Emmett, you can leave,” E3 said.
“See you around, Eddie,” Emmett said. He came over to me and said, “Shake?”
“No, Emmett, I think a hug is in order,” I said and we did have a good brotherly hug.
After Emmett left, E3 went over and shut the door. He walked over to the loveseat and sat down.
“Ed, come over here and sit beside me,” E3 said. “I have something to discuss with you.
I sat at the other end of the loveseat and turned toward E3.
“This afternoon at the club I was speaking to a friend of mine and you came up in the conversation,” E3 said. “Rabie was saying that he has an opening at his hotel. We discussed it and we think you might be able to do the job. What do you think?”
“What is the job?” I asked. “And who is this Robbie person. Do I know him?”
“Well, I think you’ve met at the club, but I’m not certain. Also, his first name is spelled R-A-B-I-E. His last name is Ibrahim. In case you’re wondering, he is of Lebanese descent. His family has been in the States for decades and, actually, he was born in San Francisco. We were in the Marines together. He was my Gunnery Sergeant on Iwo Jima. Actually, he is the man who saved my life after I was wounded.”
“That is interesting, but what is this job I’m supposed to be able to do?”
“Well, you will help setting up conference rooms and breaking them down after conferences are over at his hotel in downtown Seattle. You will be under the supervision of another employee, so all you will be required to do is follow instructions. Do you think you might be interested in trying this job out?”
“Yes, Father, I’ll accept this offer for employment. Possibly this will enable me to move out on my own, yes?”
“Well, let’s see how you work out with this job.”
“Oh, will I have to wear a uniform?”
“Yes, you will wear black slacks, a white button-down shirt, and your black oxfords. They will provide a jacket with the hotel’s name and logo for you to wear. Any other questions?”
“Where is this hotel?”
“At the corner of Sixth and Yesler.”
“Although I have memorized the streets of Seattle, I’m not familiar with that area of the downtown. If I’m picturing it correctly in my mind, it is parallel with Interstate 5. What corner will the hotel be on? There are normally four corners at an intersection, so I do need to know which one the hotel is on. I don’t want to walk into the wrong building.”
“Actually, I’m not certain which corner the hotel is on, but I’ll ask Rabie.”
“I hope I won’t have trouble finding it like I did the first time I tried to go my appointment with Dr. Kaiser.”
“That’s alright I’ll have Gloria figure out the bus routes for you. Probably you’ll be able to take the Crown Hill Flyer all the way down to First and Yesler and then it will only be a five block walk up to Sixth, but like I said I’ll have Gloria write out the instructions for you. Okay?”
“Yes, Father, that is okay with me. I trust Gloria to give me good travel instructions and I’ll tell the bus driver where I need to get off, at least for the first few trips.”
“Good, well, if you will excuse me, I’ll call Rabie and let him know the good news. I’ll let you know the day and time you need to go down to the hotel.”
“Thank you, Father, for finding me this job. I’ll try to not let you down.”
“Good, that’s all I can ask.”
————
I was to start working the following Monday. Although my normal working hours would be from nine o’clock in the morning until six o’clock in the evening with a one hour lunch at one o’clock in the afternoon, I had to go down to the hotel at eight o’clock on the first morning to fill out paperwork at the personnel office. I had to take one hundred dollars with me for union dues, whatever they were. I asked E3 what union dues were, but as he was trying to explain it to me nothing made sense. Finally, he told me not to worry about it and everything would work out okay.
As practice for going down to the Seventh Heaven Hotel at the corner Sixth Avenue and Yesler Way, I rode the Crown Hill Flyer down to First Avenue and Yesler Way on the previous Thursday morning. Then I walked the five blocks east on Yesler Way to the Seventh Heaven Hotel at the corner of Sixth Avenue, but I didn’t go in the front door because employees are not allowed to use the front door unless they have to use the front door as part of their job at the Seventh Heaven Hotel. E3 told me that the doorman and the bellhops were the employees who would be using the front door to the Seventh Heaven Hotel. I found the employee entrance in the alley off Yesler Way. I didn’t go in because I wasn’t yet an employee.
To ensure I arrived at the Seventh Heaven Hotel personnel office by eight o’clock in the morning, I planned to take the 6:25 Crown Hill Flyer at the bus stop at Fifteenth Avenue Northwest and Northwest Ninetieth Street. After putting on my black slacks, white button-down shirt, black socks, and black oxfords I had my breakfast of one three-minute egg, a bowl of Cream of Wheat (Unlike the rest of the family I don’t like oatmeal because oatmeal has a slimy texture, which I think is disgusting.), a piece of toasted white bread with butter and quince jelly, a four ounce glass of orange juice, and a ten ounce glass of milk. After breakfast, I brushed my teeth, used mouthwash, put on my navy blue jacket, and I left home at six o’clock in the morning to ensure I arrived at the bus stop before the Crown Hill Flyer arrived. The Flyer stopped at nearly every stop before it went across the Ballard Bridge and the Flyer was standing room only. I was nice and gave my seat the an older woman in a blue dress, dark brown coat with broad lapels and big black buttons, and black shoes. She wasn’t wearing nylon stockings and I saw that she had not shaved her legs. She looked quite strange compared to the other women passengers, but I was nice and didn’t stare because I didn’t want to embarrass her. Though, I did look at her after she sat down on occasion and saw that she had black hairs on her upper lip, blue eyes, very thick glasses in black plastic frames, and her hair was going gray. Once she caught me looking at her and stared at me as if I had done something very wrong. I didn’t look at her from then on. She rang the bell to get off the Flyer at the First Avenue and Blanchard Street stop. I continued on and got off the Flyer at First Avenue and Yesler Way. The Flyer was practically empty by then and all the rest of the passengers got off, too. I checked my watch after getting off the Flyer and saw that it was 7:25 in the morning, which was ten minutes after the time the Flyer was supposed to reach that stop. In fact, it was the last stop for the Crown Hill Flyer going into downtown Seattle. That was the stop where I’d catch the Flyer going home after I got off work. Of course, I had to use the bus stop on the other side of First Avenue for my trip home on the Crown Hill Flyer.
I arrived at the Seventh Heaven Hotel employee entrance at 7:38. There was a man in front of me and he held the door for me to precede him into the Seventh Heaven Hotel. I asked him where the personnel office was and he took me to the door. I tried to turn the knob, but it wouldn’t move. Obviously, I had arrived too early. I had to wait.
Eventually, a woman wearing a red coat with green buttons, nylon stockings, and shiny blue high heels walked up to the door and unlocked it. She looked at me and said, “Why are you standing there? Is there some reason you’re here? We’re not accepting applications for employment.”
“I was told to be here this morning at eight o’clock to fill out paperwork for my employment at the Seventh Heaven Hotel,” I said.
“Oh, are you Edward Peterson?”
“No, I’m Edvard Pedersen.”
“Whatever, all you Norskies spell your names wrong. I don’t know what it is about you Scandihoovians, but none of you spell your names in a logical way. Okay, come inside and we’ll get busy on your application.”
She pushed the door against the wall and with her right foot push down a metal thingy with rubber at the end down against the blue tiled floor. The door didn’t move. I was amazed that something so small could hold that door from closing. I went inside. There was a low plywood wall with an orange Formica counter that was approximately three feet wide. The woman put two pieces of paper on the counter along with a black plastic ballpoint pen.
“Fill out the application, all four sides, and then I’ll give you the preemployment qualification test,” she said.
“I’m sorry, but I need a pencil with an eraser because I make mistakes,” I said.
“We use ink at the hotel, use the pen.”
She seemed quite insistent that I use the pen, so I did.
I had never filled out an application before, so I was very careful with filling in all the boxes that applied to me. Because I had not graduated from high school, I didn’t fill out that section. Also, because I didn’t have a GED, whatever that was, I didn’t fill out that section. Also, because I didn’t attend any college or business school, I didn’t fill out that section. I turned the paper over and there were all these questions about prior employment from my current or last job back eight jobs, but since I had never worked before I left that page blank. I turned the first piece of paper over to the front side and looked at the front page of the second piece of paper. The whole front side wanted previous employment, but since I had never worked before I left that page blank. But then I noticed at the bottom there was a small paragraph that asked if I had filled out the application in a truthful manner. I checked the “Yes” box. Then I had to sign my name and put today’s date in the form of MM/DD/YYYY. I didn’t know what that meant, so I left it blank. I turned the paper over, but the other side was blank. That made me wonder why she had told me to fill out all four sides. Maybe it was a trick to make me sound stupid. Normal people do that sometimes so they can laugh at me. I put the second paper under the first and said, “I’m done filling out this application.”
“Well, it certainly took you long enough,” the woman said as she got out of her chair and walked up to the counter. She looked at my application and said, “You didn’t fill out what high school you graduated from.”
“I haven’t graduated from any high school,” I said.
“No, GED?”
“I don’t know what that is and I’m quite certain I don’t have one of those.”
“Uh, huh, well let’s see your work experience. What’s this? You haven’t worked, anywhere?”
“No, this will be my first job.”
“Well, I’ll tell you this, Edward Peterson, you won’t be working at this hotel without a high school diploma or a GED. Not having any previous employment certainly disqualifies you, too. Leave the premises, now!”
I looked at her not quite understanding why I wasn’t being accepted for employment, after all had not E3 made an arrangement with that Mr. Rabie Ibrahim.
“Are you deaf, too? I told you to leave. Do I have to call the police?”
I left and walked down Yesler Way to First Avenue where I caught the next Crown Hill Flyer. I went home and used my front door key to enter. Syl was in the living room and asked, “What are you doing home? Did you miss your bus? Where have you been all this time?”
“No, I went to the personnel office of the Seventh Heaven Hotel and filled out the application, but because I don’t have a high school diploma or a GED, whatever that is, and no previous employment I don’t qualify to work at the Seventh Heaven Hotel. I believe the woman in the personnel office doesn’t like people of Norwegian descent because she refused to pronounce my name correctly. She said Norskies spelled their names incorrectly. She told me to leave the premises or she was going to call the police. I left the Seventh Heaven Hotel by the employee entrance and walked down Yesler Way to First Avenue and got on the first Crown Hill Flyer that came. I’m going to my bedroom. I’m sad about not getting that job.”
“I’m going to call your father and find out what the hell is going on,” Syl said. “We finally had a chance to get rid of you and your father fucks it up.”
“You swore,” I said.
“You’re damned right I did. So much for his friends at the club.”
“I’m going to my bedroom because you are angry with me. I’m sorry I didn’t get the job. I don’t think it was my fault.”
“No, Ed, I don’t know how you did it, but for once this wasn’t your fault. On the other hand, your father better do something about this or he won’t be eating at this house ever again. For all I care he can live down at his precious club.”
I went to my bedroom, took off my work clothes, put on a pair of jeans, and a University of Washington t-shirt. I lay down on my bed and stared at the ceiling trying not to think of anything. I didn’t understand why I wasn’t employed at the Seventh Heaven Hotel because E3 said he had talked to Mr. Rabie Ibrahim and now Syl was angry with me because I didn’t get employed.
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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