Page 12 of The Good Char (Soul Taker)

The next morning, I arrived at work bright and early, eager to establish my newfound independence.

I wasted no time in diving into my tasks, starting with washing all the walls and scrubbing away every smudge and stain.

After that, I meticulously cleaned out the bucket and disinfected the counters, ensuring every surface was spotless.

With a sense of liberation in my heart, I began to whistle the tune of "Walking on Sunshine. "

No longer under the oppressive rule of my parents, I was a free woman, determined to prove myself and secure my place in the world.

As I hummed my tune, Mr. Dzik snapped his head to mine while holding onto a still sizzling corndog that came straight out the fryer. I was getting used to his resting glower face, so I thought nothing of it and continued cleaning happily.

"What's wrong with you? Why are you here so early, and why are you so happy?"

Oh, he was so nosy, it was cute. I think he had a communication problem. His growly words translated in my mind that he was curious about my change in demeanor. I mean, I would be too.

Grinning from ear to ear, I tried to contain my excitement but failed miserably…

or happily, depending on how one looked at it.

"Well, Mr. Dzik, we get paid on Fridays, right? I mean, I’ve only gotten a couple of paychecks so far and that seems to be the trend.

It’s new to me since my parents always gave me allowances growing up and with me helping with the accounting at work, it slips my mind if I get paid alongside the employees at the same time or not.

Anyway! I need this job because last night I totally stood up to my parents, and now I'm looking for apartments! "

I squealed and did a little dance with the broomstick, twirling around it with flare.

My little jig was interrupted with the sound of a large quantity of corndogs being thrown into the fryer, sizzling and spitting oil everywhere. It didn’t stop the emotion bubbling up as I smiled at Mr. Dzik’s back, watching the way his muscles moved when he shook the frying cage with ease.

"You talk too much."

He’s such a jokester.

Undeterred by his lack of enthusiasm, I carried on with my duties, cleaning and disinfecting every inch of the business. The scent of pine cleaner filled the air as I mopped the floor, sweat trickling down my forehead.

As the day progressed, a line of customers formed. Wiping my brow, I made sure to keep my composure as I took orders and relayed them to my corndog partner in crime.

"One weiner with ketchup and mustard," I yelled, and like a well-oiled machine, Mr. Dzik swiftly prepared the order.

Hours passed, and we continued this dance of weiner creation and customer satisfaction. Side by side, Mr. Dzik and I formed the perfect team, delivering delicious breaded weiners to the hungry patrons of Death Canyon City.

"Phew, this is quite a workout," I commented, wiping the sweat from my brow and the back of my neck, but this time with a clean towel.

Without a second thought, I impulsively pulled off my shirt, revealing the black tank top I always wore underneath. Mr. Dzik’s face contorted into a combination of his resting glower face, constipation and something else I couldn’t identify.

I hoped he was okay. Maybe he ate something bad.

"Put your uniform back on!" he barked, before shaking his head and curling his lip.

Realizing my mistake, I squeaked and quickly complied.

Except when I slipped my shirt back on, it was a little bit difficult to maneuver when the wet parts slapped onto my skin.

Eww. But despite his rebuke, I couldn't help but feel a glimmer of satisfaction.

Mr. Dzik had noticed my hard work and dedication.

I utilized every yoga move I knew to try and make redressing comfortable, wriggling my way awkwardly like a bad circus act all the way toward the register.

When my body finally warmed up the shirt, I was able to relax while I occasionally pulled away the fabric to fan myself. Who knew selling corndogs would be such a workout? At least my summer body wasn’t as far away as I thought.

I laughed out loud at my thoughts, making my boss’ head snap in my direction again. I sheepishly ducked my head, telling myself it was ridiculous to think about a summer body when The Flaming Chopstick in the same food court was my weakness.

I wonder if Mr. Dzik would consider that betrayal for grabbing food from there.

I discreetly looked in his direction but his back was already to me again.

As much as I loved his dipped wieners, smelling it day in and day out, I couldn’t stomach eating it all the time.

Not that Mr. Dzik was bad at handling wieners. He was great at dipping the meat.

I mean.

Oh gosh.

Stop while you’re ahead, Kimmy.

Too late. My eyes zoomed in on the bulging veins of his forearms as he stabbed some of the corndogs into the frying oil.

Whew, was it hot in here again?

"You've worked hard today.”

“Wh-What?” I stammered, quickly averting my eyes to catch his glaring at me. I wasn’t sure if I should take his words as praise or a negative statement of fact. Working hard was a good thing, right? It was what my parents always hammered into my head.

I opened my mouth to spit out an involuntary apology, when he cut me off.

“Good job."

My eyes fluttered a few times as my face flamed at his praise. I mean, getting praise at all was new to me. I didn’t get much from my parents and now I feel spoiled by Mr. Dzik. He needed to be careful. If he did it too much, I might get addicted to it.

"You know…” he drew out as he turned his back to me again, returning to check on the weiner’s rotation on the grill.

My heart pounded at the pregnant pause. No, I didn’t know.

What was he going to say? Was he going to praise me again?

Oh gosh. I began to perspire at the back of my neck.

My shirt felt too tight, too wet. But I couldn’t take it off to cool down.

I didn’t want him mad at me. I wanted him to enjoy working with me. I hope I didn’t do anything wr?—

“You can go home early, full pay."

A squeal left my lips before I could stop myself. I jumped and clapped with delight, almost throwing myself into his arms—almost.

I didn’t want him to feel how sweaty I was.

Yes. That was right. That was why I didn’t go through with it.

But my gosh, what an amazing man he was!

So kind. Despite his growly exterior that always looked like he wanted to strangle everyone who spoke to him, he did care about me! And he appreciated all my efforts.

Mrs. Independent was here to stay!

"Thank you, Mr. Dzik!" I exclaimed, my voice filled with genuine gratitude. "I promise every day I will be an asset to your business and your company."

Giggling like a schoolgirl, I nimbly folded my apron, placed it on the back counter and made my way out into the food court.

The breeze hitting my neck wasn’t enough.

I was too excited and it amped up my internal temperature.

Finally taking off my shirt again, I tucked it into the back pocket of my pants and retied my pony tail into a bun to get the wayward strands off my neck.

Fanning myself, I walked with a pep to my step as I made it out of the mall and hopped on my bike. I pedaled my way home with the wind in my hair—I felt as free as a bird.

All thanks to the kindness of Mr. Dzik.

"I was free as a bird now and something something," I sang, unsure of the words to the song but continued to sing it anyway with enthusiasm. "You paid with a five so here's your change.... you paid with a five so here's your changeeeeeee."

I laughed aloud at my made up lyrics as I continued to ride through the streets.

The world was my oyster, and with each pedal, I embraced the possibilities that lay ahead.

No longer bound by the constraints of my parents' expectations, I was determined to carve out my own path, one filled with adventure at the side of Mr. Dzik.

Who knew what the future held, but one thing was certain—I was ready to take on the world with a smile on my face and a song in my heart.