Mrs. Glass, Eli, and the man spent about an hour looking for words in the dictionary and figuring out finances. The man really only seemed to say si and gracias over and over. I guess he was really excited about the job. He shouldn’t have been, but I guess he was anyway.
I don’t like building up a story like something awful is gonna happen. I hate it when writers do that. Just get to the point, I say. But this is a horrible story to write. I don’t wanna tell it, and I guess I’m trying to put off getting to the bad parts. Maybe that’s why I’m talking so much about myself even though this story isn’t supposed to be about me.
Mrs. Glass drove her old white station wagon away, and Eli opened the back door and shouted my name. I guess he never saw me walk in. I tiptoed to the bathroom, flushed the toilet, washed my hands, and walked to the kitchen table. Eli and the man both turned around, and Eli closed the door and sat back down. I guess I hoped Eli wouldn’t realize I was spying on him instead of working.
“This is Santos. You’re his boss now. Anything needs done, he does it. Understood?”
“Okay. Hola Santos.” A month of Spanish classes didn’t do much, especially since I didn’t even go to class ten times, but I thought I’d give it a shot.
Santos nodded, and Eli explained the situation. Where Santos was going to stay, how we were supposed to split up the work on the farm, what time of day I would wake him up, and a lot more that I never really bothered to remember.
When Eli bought the farm, I guess it used to have a lot of farm hands. There were some quarters for them outside that Eli put an air conditioner in. Years ago we built a hallway so it was part of the house. That way I could have a bedroom in the old quarters and Eli could have a storage room closer to the kitchen. He wanted to store a month’s worth of food. I guess he thought there was gonna be an apocalypse or something.
Since there weren’t any more rooms in the house, I said Santos could stay with me in the quarters. There’s a room next to mine where I just kept a few things I wasn’t ever gonna use anyway. Since it used to be quarters, there’s a big bathroom too, with three shower heads and two toilets and four sinks. I thought it was funny we never got rid of the extra bathroom things but I guess it worked out okay. And it would be nice to have someone to complain about Eli with. I couldn’t just go to Jacob’s house every time there was a problem.
I pointed toward the hallway to the old quarters and walked with Santos to his room. I showed him around the old quarters and used the dictionary to sort of tell him where to put his things, where to shower, which sink was his. I showed him the old door that went right into his room from outside. I took my old things out of his room and realized there was no bed, just an old wood floor.
I went back to the kitchen to ask Eli what to do for Santos’s bed. I guess he didn’t hear me, so I repeated myself and Eli turned around with his stupid red face again. He must have been really worked up cause I hadn’t seen him with a red face twice in one day before. “It’s not my fucking problem and it’s not yours either. He’s earning plenty of money. He can buy his own damn bed if he wants one.”
Because I’m such a wuss, I said okay and walked back to my room. What was I going to tell Santos? It’s embarrassing to offer someone room and board and not give him somewhere decent to sleep. I shuffled through my closet and found an old foam mat from back when Eli took me camping. He didn’t do that anymore, said he wouldn’t take a you-know-what camping. I’d tell you the word he used but my mom told me it’s offensive to women, and she raised me better than to write a story with that word in it.
I brought the mat to Santos’s room and picked up the dictionary from the windowsill. Santos spent a while staring at me while I put together the sentence Lo siento esto ser tu cama, sorry but this is your bed. I handed him the mat and he just kept saying gracias. Imagine saying thanks when your boss hands you a little camping mat and says it’s your bed. I left to feed the sheep, since I still hadn’t done that. I figured he could take a couple of hours to get settled in.
Half an hour later, I jumped out of my skin when someone tapped my shoulder. I turned around, relieved to see it was Santos. “Hello. Ready for work.” He must have spent the half hour memorizing that.