Homebrew - a NaNoWriMo Novel - Day 5
Hooray! As of Day 5 I've managed to create 11,140 words! (For those who don't know, that means I'm about 2,800 words further along than I needed to be at the end of my fifth day - almost two whole days worth.) Anyway, here's the remainder of Chapter Two, I'm starting on Chapter Three today:
His eyes brightened. "I guess we're a team."
They finished their meal talking about where they came from; while walking to the meeting room, they wondered just what orientation required and speculated the nature of the further test mentioned in the invitation letters they'd received.
* * *
May 12, 2011
"Dora. Clarissa. PRISCILLA. MELINDA. BARBARA. CELINDA. ANNE. Rodriguez! Get in here, RIGHT NOW!" Mark Rodriguez's voice thundered from the intercom speaker to echo ominously throughout the outlet store. All the customers stopped shopping to glance fearfully towards the counter. As Dora glumly turned from the register to comply, her father roared, "I'm WAITING!"
"Go!" Her mother urged, "I'll watch the register. You know how he is at bill time…"
Dora dashed from the store, through the factory floor and up to the office, wondering 'What is it this time. I've been pushing all the sales items and have actually managed to sell the last of the junky shorts that Dad ordered two years ago…'
As she entered the office she composed herself to appear calm. "Yes, Father?"
"Close. The. Door." 'Uh-oh. This is going to be bad!' She thought as she closed the door gently. Her father continued, "Sit. Down." Taking the chair opposite him she complied.an eternal two minutes her father stared at her. Then, he turned his gaze to the papers on his desk. The clutter of desk lamp, phone, computer terminal and other supplies conspired to hide the exact nature of these papers from her.
Swallowing to moisten her dry mouth, she said, "Father, if I might…" only to skid to a halt as he raised a finger to silence her.
"I believe that you have completed public school, have you not," he asked?
"Yes, Father. If I could…" she said, only to be stopped once again by his raised finger.
"No. Yes. Or even Yes, Father, are all I need to hear right now," he instructed. "We'll save excuses and comments for later, if ever."
"Yes… Father."
"And you have even completed a Bachelor's Degree in Electrical Engineering, with a minor in Business," he continued.
"Yes, Father," she replied thinking, 'Oh. My. This is going to be bad…'
"Did you not also complete a Master's in Business Administration?"
"Yes," she said, 'Real Bad!'
"And since then, you have had the tuition of my and your mother's wisdom gained through long experience running this business," he questioned, "Along with all the other advice we have learned at trade shows and seminars or which you might have read about in the various business journals?"
"Yes, Father," she mumbled, 'I am dead. I am *so* dead! Whatever it is, I cannot even begin to hope for a positive resolution. He might even toss me out of the business!'
"Good," her father purred, "So, perhaps you can explain this problem to me more fully… Make it clear to me so that I might better understand how this came to be." He stood and walked over to the window overlooking the strip mall's side parking lot. He paused there for a while and then turned back to her, his face a picture of confusion and question, his hands raised as if expecting to receive a package at any moment.
Glancing over his shoulder at the dusty parking lot to gain some time, she gathered her wits. "Father," she said, "If I could see what is troubling you, I might better know how to answer?" She glanced towards the mostly obscured paperwork sitting on his desk.her gaze, he turned back to his desk.
Reaching down he grabbed the papers and thrust them to her, his face once again purpling in rage. "This! Dora! Explain this," he shouted! "Tell me how you could possibly think to do this! Where did you get the idea that you had the right to do this! What possible madness possessed you…?"
Dora quickly scanned the invoice. 'Yes! My order.' she thought. She almost smiled but remembered where she was. Composing herself, she looked up and replied, "I thought that we had agreed to try new fashions. These 'skinsuits' are all the rage right now. Yes, I bought three full skinsuits from manufacturing, but only for display purposes. And I had to do so in order to keep our bookkeeping records straight. The rest of the outfits are strictly for fashion wear and don't come with the equipment necessary to complete the suit, Father."
"Still, we're not running a spacesuit supply store. The store isn't supposed to be a source of supplies for space travel," her father growled. "You know how I feel about all this space travel nonsense. I don't want to encourage people to abandon Earth."
"But, DAD... We live in San Antonio. Our company supplies these skinsuits directly to the staff and construction workers working on the UN-OPS project. This is a hot, new style. Also, we have a great margin on these outfits; we don't have to pay shipping or flooring fees because our storefront is part of our manufacturing plant. We'd be crazy to not sell them!" she pleaded. "Furthermore, it was your idea to bid to manufacture and supply the skinsuits in the first place, three years ago!"
"Don't remind me! I don't care! You know how I feel. I will not cater to anyone who thinks to run away from their problems by leaving Earth. Besides, as Reverend Schulter says, 'If God had wanted us in space, he wouldn't have given us the Earth upon which we live.' I regret ever having done so." her father quoted. He paused and looked over the invoice again. "Well, you've already purchased them, so, we'll go ahead and sell them off to make back our money. But you are not to use the complete outfits to make a display. You will use just the skinsuit portions so that people only see a new fashion. I won't be giving ideas to children and wastrels."
"No. I won't agree to this. You said the store would be my venture, my responsibility. You promised I would have complete control over what is sold and how I run it, so long as I can show a profit. You promised this!" she shouted.
"Not when it involves egging people to go to space! And if you can't obey, then you prove my point!" He paused. "I'm changing my mind; you will not sell any of the skinsuit line. It's either that or you no longer run the store."
Dora blanched. She'd had disagreements with her father before and some had been, heated. Still, she had found a way to compromise, to be flexible, to bide her time and marshall her arguments, working to convince him to accept her ideas. But this... this time, no matter how much she feared his anger, she couldn't give in. This time she knew the root cause of his anger; it was sitting at home, informing her that her dream was within her reach.
"No, Dad. I won't put up with the pressure. I've tried to compromise. I've tried to reason and explain. I've shown you facts, figures and hard work, not just from me, but from the others in the store," she said, a coolness and dispassion leeching all emotion from her voice. "You want to hold the store - and your approval - over my head as a bludgeon. And this time I'm not going to let you. You want me to cave on this? I won't. In fact, I'm choosing the other option. I quit."
She heard a stifled gasp behind her and whirled around to see Evangelina, her mother, standing in the doorway, pale, eyes wide with shock.
"No! Dora, you can't mean that!" her mother cried. "Dom, tell her no. Tell her you're wrong, that she wins. Don't let her go!"
"'Lina. I can't. She's got to let this obsession go." he said from behind Dora. "Either she does this or she's no longer part of this family." The words grated through Dora, shaking her, making her bones ache. Her mother paled even further, shrinking, almost aging before her eyes. Almost she turned... almost. But she drew strength from the letter sitting on the desk in her home office.
Without looking behind her, she said, "Fine. So be it. I'll draw up my letter of resignation and clean out my office." Then, head held rigid, she walked from the office.
* * *
Dora strode to her car with her last bag, the special one for carrying a skinsuit and helmet/breather pack. As she neared, her mother darted from the shadows along the side of her house - no, not her house, not any longer. Evangelina intercepted her at the car door.
"Don't go," her mother pleaded. "Not like this. Make peace with him. You're young; you'll always have other opportunities. But you won't always have your father around."
"I know that, Mom. But if I dont' go, I'll never go. I'll never have the courage to break free, to try it on my own. And you know as well as I do that the younger you are, the better you adapt to new situations. It is time and past time I moved out and made it on my own."
"And this, going into space has been a dream of mine for years, since they first came out with the Sally Ride Barbie doll. Mom, I'll never as good an opportunity as this so I'm going to take it. Maybe, some day, Dad can accept that, can be proud of me for who I am and what I have and will accomplish. But right now there's nothing I can do that will help. So I'm going to remove myself from the picture."
"But what if something goes wrong? You can't promise you won't get hurt..." Dora could see the fear in her mother's eyes.
"Mom, I could get killed just driving to work on the freeway. I could get jumped some night coming out of the theater and raped. Hell, I could catch the damned Bird Flu, if it ever really happens. You know that. And you know there's really nothing you or Dad could do to prevent it. I'll take precautions. I'll follow all the rules; you know me, I'm good at following rules." That pulled a slight smile from her mother, matching the one that peeked out of Dora's face. "I promise I'll do my best to be careful and to make you both proud of me. Plus, I'll write you every week, and call when I can afford it." She got into her car and lowered the window, looking out and up into her mother's face.
"Take care, baby. I love you - and so does your father, even if he's too stubborn too admit it."
"I love you both, too. Tell Dad I said so." With that, she pulled out of the driveway, starting for Las Cruces.
* * *
"Yes, I understand that my group doesn't start until June 1st. But I'm here now. Is there any way to get into an earlier orientation group?" she asked the check-in co-ordinator.
"If it were a matter of just two or three days, there wouldn't be any problem. We'd just stick you in your assigned dorm room and have you wait. However, the wait is too long. Also, we don't have a spare room for you. Everyone who's going through with this group is here and there have been no washouts or drop outs. I'm very sorry, but you're just going to have to wait off-grounds." He turned away, then back. "Look, it's only a week. If I might make a suggestion..."
"Anything would be appreciated."
"Then go back into Las Cruces and check into one of the executive motels. Several of them have kitchenettes which rent for a reasonable amount. Here's one that's very reasonable," he said, writing a name and directions on a notepad. He handed it to her and continued, "Unless you have a serious medical problem, they'll probably keep you on, we've a strong demand for engineers right now. And this will give you time to decide what to store and what to sell."
"Sell?" That caught her attention. "Why would I want to sell anything? I've already weeded out everything I didn't want to keep."
"Really? Then I take it you took the bus here?"
"No, I drove. You know that; you just had to sign the paperwork authorizing an extended pass for my car."
"Listen, it's none of my business, but let me give you a bit of advice. If you pass the rest of your examinations and training, you're going to be spending a lot of time in orbit, months at a stretch, with few and short breaks between. Once you get past orientation and training, you won't need a car and you'll be spending a great deal of money storing it. Unless you have someone who can come and pick it up, I'd recommend you sell it."
"Since you put it that way... But I won't sell my car. I'll assign title of it to my friend. She needs a newer one. Thanks for the advice." Then she asked, "Do I have to do this right now, or can I do this later during training?"
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to keep it around for the three months you'll be groundside. And if you need a notary for any of your paperwork, I can handle it."
* * *
May 24, 2011
J'Shawn managed to squeak into the lecture hall one minute before the meeting started. Looking around, he saw exactly two seats open. The closest one was in the very back row, too far away to see or hear anything. So he took the second seat, squeezing down the row past the others already there. He wasn't a particularly small person - he prided himself on his muscular physique - the seat arms fit snug against his ribs.
"Damn," he muttered, "I hope these chairs aren't a sign of things to come."
"I don't think so," replied the woman beside him. "I think they got these from a school supply firm run by one of my father's friends. By the way, I'm Dora, Dora Rodriguez."
"I'm J'Shawn Williams, but all my friends call me J'Shawn," he said with a smile.
"Glad to meet you. The two on your right," she said, pointing them out, "are Ellen Connoly and Dermot Hardin. Did I get the names right?" she directed at the other two.
"Yes. But my friends call me 'Elle'" she said, sticking her hand out to J'Shawn.
"And most of my friends call me Sean. That's my middle name," Dermot added, reaching his hand past Ellen.
At that point, a door opened along the right wall, near the front, and a woman entered, closing the door softly behind her. She strode to the desk centered along the wall and perched upon the front edge.
"Class." she spoke, a microphone broadcasting her voice through the hall. "My name is Roseanne Sittler. My task is to guide you through the basic orientation process. For the most part, I will be providing informational lectures and scheduling your examinations and training sessions. I will also be available for questions and to help counsel you on which path inside the UN Orbital Power Station project is best suited for our needs, and yours."
"Today will be spent reviewing the types of work assignments available as well as the testing and training schedules of each. Also, we will be reviewing all forms that must be completed in order to generate your employee profile. I ask that you save your questions, of which I am sure there will be many, until after the we complete the first hour."
His eyes brightened. "I guess we're a team."
They finished their meal talking about where they came from; while walking to the meeting room, they wondered just what orientation required and speculated the nature of the further test mentioned in the invitation letters they'd received.
* * *
May 12, 2011
"Dora. Clarissa. PRISCILLA. MELINDA. BARBARA. CELINDA. ANNE. Rodriguez! Get in here, RIGHT NOW!" Mark Rodriguez's voice thundered from the intercom speaker to echo ominously throughout the outlet store. All the customers stopped shopping to glance fearfully towards the counter. As Dora glumly turned from the register to comply, her father roared, "I'm WAITING!"
"Go!" Her mother urged, "I'll watch the register. You know how he is at bill time…"
Dora dashed from the store, through the factory floor and up to the office, wondering 'What is it this time. I've been pushing all the sales items and have actually managed to sell the last of the junky shorts that Dad ordered two years ago…'
As she entered the office she composed herself to appear calm. "Yes, Father?"
"Close. The. Door." 'Uh-oh. This is going to be bad!' She thought as she closed the door gently. Her father continued, "Sit. Down." Taking the chair opposite him she complied.an eternal two minutes her father stared at her. Then, he turned his gaze to the papers on his desk. The clutter of desk lamp, phone, computer terminal and other supplies conspired to hide the exact nature of these papers from her.
Swallowing to moisten her dry mouth, she said, "Father, if I might…" only to skid to a halt as he raised a finger to silence her.
"I believe that you have completed public school, have you not," he asked?
"Yes, Father. If I could…" she said, only to be stopped once again by his raised finger.
"No. Yes. Or even Yes, Father, are all I need to hear right now," he instructed. "We'll save excuses and comments for later, if ever."
"Yes… Father."
"And you have even completed a Bachelor's Degree in Electrical Engineering, with a minor in Business," he continued.
"Yes, Father," she replied thinking, 'Oh. My. This is going to be bad…'
"Did you not also complete a Master's in Business Administration?"
"Yes," she said, 'Real Bad!'
"And since then, you have had the tuition of my and your mother's wisdom gained through long experience running this business," he questioned, "Along with all the other advice we have learned at trade shows and seminars or which you might have read about in the various business journals?"
"Yes, Father," she mumbled, 'I am dead. I am *so* dead! Whatever it is, I cannot even begin to hope for a positive resolution. He might even toss me out of the business!'
"Good," her father purred, "So, perhaps you can explain this problem to me more fully… Make it clear to me so that I might better understand how this came to be." He stood and walked over to the window overlooking the strip mall's side parking lot. He paused there for a while and then turned back to her, his face a picture of confusion and question, his hands raised as if expecting to receive a package at any moment.
Glancing over his shoulder at the dusty parking lot to gain some time, she gathered her wits. "Father," she said, "If I could see what is troubling you, I might better know how to answer?" She glanced towards the mostly obscured paperwork sitting on his desk.her gaze, he turned back to his desk.
Reaching down he grabbed the papers and thrust them to her, his face once again purpling in rage. "This! Dora! Explain this," he shouted! "Tell me how you could possibly think to do this! Where did you get the idea that you had the right to do this! What possible madness possessed you…?"
Dora quickly scanned the invoice. 'Yes! My order.' she thought. She almost smiled but remembered where she was. Composing herself, she looked up and replied, "I thought that we had agreed to try new fashions. These 'skinsuits' are all the rage right now. Yes, I bought three full skinsuits from manufacturing, but only for display purposes. And I had to do so in order to keep our bookkeeping records straight. The rest of the outfits are strictly for fashion wear and don't come with the equipment necessary to complete the suit, Father."
"Still, we're not running a spacesuit supply store. The store isn't supposed to be a source of supplies for space travel," her father growled. "You know how I feel about all this space travel nonsense. I don't want to encourage people to abandon Earth."
"But, DAD... We live in San Antonio. Our company supplies these skinsuits directly to the staff and construction workers working on the UN-OPS project. This is a hot, new style. Also, we have a great margin on these outfits; we don't have to pay shipping or flooring fees because our storefront is part of our manufacturing plant. We'd be crazy to not sell them!" she pleaded. "Furthermore, it was your idea to bid to manufacture and supply the skinsuits in the first place, three years ago!"
"Don't remind me! I don't care! You know how I feel. I will not cater to anyone who thinks to run away from their problems by leaving Earth. Besides, as Reverend Schulter says, 'If God had wanted us in space, he wouldn't have given us the Earth upon which we live.' I regret ever having done so." her father quoted. He paused and looked over the invoice again. "Well, you've already purchased them, so, we'll go ahead and sell them off to make back our money. But you are not to use the complete outfits to make a display. You will use just the skinsuit portions so that people only see a new fashion. I won't be giving ideas to children and wastrels."
"No. I won't agree to this. You said the store would be my venture, my responsibility. You promised I would have complete control over what is sold and how I run it, so long as I can show a profit. You promised this!" she shouted.
"Not when it involves egging people to go to space! And if you can't obey, then you prove my point!" He paused. "I'm changing my mind; you will not sell any of the skinsuit line. It's either that or you no longer run the store."
Dora blanched. She'd had disagreements with her father before and some had been, heated. Still, she had found a way to compromise, to be flexible, to bide her time and marshall her arguments, working to convince him to accept her ideas. But this... this time, no matter how much she feared his anger, she couldn't give in. This time she knew the root cause of his anger; it was sitting at home, informing her that her dream was within her reach.
"No, Dad. I won't put up with the pressure. I've tried to compromise. I've tried to reason and explain. I've shown you facts, figures and hard work, not just from me, but from the others in the store," she said, a coolness and dispassion leeching all emotion from her voice. "You want to hold the store - and your approval - over my head as a bludgeon. And this time I'm not going to let you. You want me to cave on this? I won't. In fact, I'm choosing the other option. I quit."
She heard a stifled gasp behind her and whirled around to see Evangelina, her mother, standing in the doorway, pale, eyes wide with shock.
"No! Dora, you can't mean that!" her mother cried. "Dom, tell her no. Tell her you're wrong, that she wins. Don't let her go!"
"'Lina. I can't. She's got to let this obsession go." he said from behind Dora. "Either she does this or she's no longer part of this family." The words grated through Dora, shaking her, making her bones ache. Her mother paled even further, shrinking, almost aging before her eyes. Almost she turned... almost. But she drew strength from the letter sitting on the desk in her home office.
Without looking behind her, she said, "Fine. So be it. I'll draw up my letter of resignation and clean out my office." Then, head held rigid, she walked from the office.
* * *
Dora strode to her car with her last bag, the special one for carrying a skinsuit and helmet/breather pack. As she neared, her mother darted from the shadows along the side of her house - no, not her house, not any longer. Evangelina intercepted her at the car door.
"Don't go," her mother pleaded. "Not like this. Make peace with him. You're young; you'll always have other opportunities. But you won't always have your father around."
"I know that, Mom. But if I dont' go, I'll never go. I'll never have the courage to break free, to try it on my own. And you know as well as I do that the younger you are, the better you adapt to new situations. It is time and past time I moved out and made it on my own."
"And this, going into space has been a dream of mine for years, since they first came out with the Sally Ride Barbie doll. Mom, I'll never as good an opportunity as this so I'm going to take it. Maybe, some day, Dad can accept that, can be proud of me for who I am and what I have and will accomplish. But right now there's nothing I can do that will help. So I'm going to remove myself from the picture."
"But what if something goes wrong? You can't promise you won't get hurt..." Dora could see the fear in her mother's eyes.
"Mom, I could get killed just driving to work on the freeway. I could get jumped some night coming out of the theater and raped. Hell, I could catch the damned Bird Flu, if it ever really happens. You know that. And you know there's really nothing you or Dad could do to prevent it. I'll take precautions. I'll follow all the rules; you know me, I'm good at following rules." That pulled a slight smile from her mother, matching the one that peeked out of Dora's face. "I promise I'll do my best to be careful and to make you both proud of me. Plus, I'll write you every week, and call when I can afford it." She got into her car and lowered the window, looking out and up into her mother's face.
"Take care, baby. I love you - and so does your father, even if he's too stubborn too admit it."
"I love you both, too. Tell Dad I said so." With that, she pulled out of the driveway, starting for Las Cruces.
* * *
"Yes, I understand that my group doesn't start until June 1st. But I'm here now. Is there any way to get into an earlier orientation group?" she asked the check-in co-ordinator.
"If it were a matter of just two or three days, there wouldn't be any problem. We'd just stick you in your assigned dorm room and have you wait. However, the wait is too long. Also, we don't have a spare room for you. Everyone who's going through with this group is here and there have been no washouts or drop outs. I'm very sorry, but you're just going to have to wait off-grounds." He turned away, then back. "Look, it's only a week. If I might make a suggestion..."
"Anything would be appreciated."
"Then go back into Las Cruces and check into one of the executive motels. Several of them have kitchenettes which rent for a reasonable amount. Here's one that's very reasonable," he said, writing a name and directions on a notepad. He handed it to her and continued, "Unless you have a serious medical problem, they'll probably keep you on, we've a strong demand for engineers right now. And this will give you time to decide what to store and what to sell."
"Sell?" That caught her attention. "Why would I want to sell anything? I've already weeded out everything I didn't want to keep."
"Really? Then I take it you took the bus here?"
"No, I drove. You know that; you just had to sign the paperwork authorizing an extended pass for my car."
"Listen, it's none of my business, but let me give you a bit of advice. If you pass the rest of your examinations and training, you're going to be spending a lot of time in orbit, months at a stretch, with few and short breaks between. Once you get past orientation and training, you won't need a car and you'll be spending a great deal of money storing it. Unless you have someone who can come and pick it up, I'd recommend you sell it."
"Since you put it that way... But I won't sell my car. I'll assign title of it to my friend. She needs a newer one. Thanks for the advice." Then she asked, "Do I have to do this right now, or can I do this later during training?"
"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to keep it around for the three months you'll be groundside. And if you need a notary for any of your paperwork, I can handle it."
* * *
May 24, 2011
J'Shawn managed to squeak into the lecture hall one minute before the meeting started. Looking around, he saw exactly two seats open. The closest one was in the very back row, too far away to see or hear anything. So he took the second seat, squeezing down the row past the others already there. He wasn't a particularly small person - he prided himself on his muscular physique - the seat arms fit snug against his ribs.
"Damn," he muttered, "I hope these chairs aren't a sign of things to come."
"I don't think so," replied the woman beside him. "I think they got these from a school supply firm run by one of my father's friends. By the way, I'm Dora, Dora Rodriguez."
"I'm J'Shawn Williams, but all my friends call me J'Shawn," he said with a smile.
"Glad to meet you. The two on your right," she said, pointing them out, "are Ellen Connoly and Dermot Hardin. Did I get the names right?" she directed at the other two.
"Yes. But my friends call me 'Elle'" she said, sticking her hand out to J'Shawn.
"And most of my friends call me Sean. That's my middle name," Dermot added, reaching his hand past Ellen.
At that point, a door opened along the right wall, near the front, and a woman entered, closing the door softly behind her. She strode to the desk centered along the wall and perched upon the front edge.
"Class." she spoke, a microphone broadcasting her voice through the hall. "My name is Roseanne Sittler. My task is to guide you through the basic orientation process. For the most part, I will be providing informational lectures and scheduling your examinations and training sessions. I will also be available for questions and to help counsel you on which path inside the UN Orbital Power Station project is best suited for our needs, and yours."
"Today will be spent reviewing the types of work assignments available as well as the testing and training schedules of each. Also, we will be reviewing all forms that must be completed in order to generate your employee profile. I ask that you save your questions, of which I am sure there will be many, until after the we complete the first hour."
posted by Derek A Benner | 9:52 AM
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