I have to admit, I am a bit worried about this.
Harrington’s first few days have gone well—he has hired both an assistant and a mechanic and is pleased with both choices. Michael Davies is the son of a friend from church who has been looking for work outside of food service and is delighted to take on the somewhat menial tasks of driving Harrington around town, making phone calls, and filing paperwork. And Joseph Stint started today and has settled right into his place at the garage. The others like him, and he does good work. Already Harrington is looking into making new hires.
One possible candidate, however, surprised him, and he is not quite certain how to respond. Nor am I, really.
At the end of the day today, Arthur came in to give his father a ride home. “Hey, old man,” he said, glancing around the office. “Nice digs.”
Harrington grunted, pushing his wheeled chair over to a file cabinet that is rapidly filling up with pages—it amazes me, it really does, how very much time and effort humans put into paperwork. “It’ll do in a pinch. How was school?”
Arthur hesitated. “It was okay.”
I called Harrington’s attention to the fact that there was something on his son’s mind. He glanced up and motioned him into a chair. “Something I can help with?”
“Well, maybe.” Arthur took a seat. “I had a meeting with the guidance counselor today. Since I’m a junior now, she wanted to talk to me about college prep.”
Harrington folded his hands over his stomach, something of an awkward move now—he has lost a great deal of weight since his accident, and he has less of a stomach to hold up his hands now. “What kind of stuff did she talk about?”
“Well, she said my grades are okay, though they could be better.” Arthur glanced at his father to see if he wanted to comment, but Harrington held his peace. “And my PSATs were good, so I’m not worried about that. But she said my extracurriculars need some work. I’ve never played any sports, and I don’t have any clubs…”
“So you want to join a club?” Harrington asked when Arthur trailed off.
Arthur grimaced. “It all seems kind of silly to me, to be honest. What I’d really like—”
“Spit it out, boy,” Harrington said, but he smiled to show that he was not out of patience.
Arthur took a breath. “I want to get a job.”
Harrington raised his brows. “Well, Arthur, I think that’s a great idea. You could use a little bit of pocket money. Maybe you could work at that place where Greg works—”
“Fixing calculators?” Arthur said, shaking his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Greg seems to like it.”
“Yeah, well, Greg’s a nerd,” Arthur said with great fondness. “No, I want to do something that will teach me something real. Which is why…”
I could tell that this was the real point he had been anxious about. I crossed the room to stand behind him, one wing around his shoulders.
“I’d like to work here, if I can.”
Both Harrington and I blinked at him. Then Harrington looked around at the dull office room, bewildered. “Here?”
“Yeah.” Arthur shifted in his seat. “You don’t have to pay me—I could just shadow you, like an intern. And it would only be in the afternoons, when I get off school. I just thought—Mrs. Graw was talking about things I should know like how an office works and how a business is run, and it just occurred to me that I have a chance to see a business built from the ground up. I mentioned it to her and she thought it was a great idea.”
It is not a bad idea, in fact. Arthur could learn a great deal, and I’m quite certain he would be helpful to his father.
But there is the rub—it would be his father who he would be working for. Their relationship is much better than it was, but it is still delicate. What if this teaches Harrington to step back into his commanding demeanor that Arthur hated so? What if this ruins everything that I have worked for since I met them?
“Well, Arthur, it isn’t a bad idea,” Harrington said, but his voice was hesitant as well. “I’d have to talk it over with Jared, of course, and you should probably think about it a little longer. You should never make a big decision like a job in a single afternoon.”
Arthur nodded, remembering the long days of discussions that went on before Harrington took this job. “You’re right. But you will think about it, right?”
Harrington stared at Arthur. I went back to him and felt an anxiety in him that cut surprisingly deep. He was not worried about interacting with his son, however, or at least not as much as I was. What worried him was the earnest gaze of his son, the faith that he could see in Arthur’s eyes. He is already afraid of failing Jared and himself in this position that is so new and strange; the idea of failing in front of his son is ten times worse to him.
I draped my wings over his shoulders. “You can do this,” I said. “Arthur does not doubt you, and he knows you better than almost anyone. You should not doubt yourself.”
It calmed him, and he was able to tell Arthur that he would think about it. He will, too, and so will I. It would be a good thing, but difficult to do well, and I am not certain I am up to any difficult things right now.