{"id":758,"date":"2021-07-07T19:41:03","date_gmt":"2021-07-07T19:41:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/?p=758"},"modified":"2021-07-13T18:20:03","modified_gmt":"2021-07-13T18:20:03","slug":"fishbones-book-i-chapter-5-career","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/2021\/07\/fishbones-book-i-chapter-5-career\/","title":{"rendered":"Fishbones Book I \u2013 Chapter 5: Career"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\"\"Illustration by Eyugho<\/span><\/a><\/span><\/p>\n

Ferris pushed his dinner in a circle around his plate. It wasn\u2019t the food, but the knot in his stomach. It was a result of piling several days of anxiety into a final climactic night, leading to one question whose answer would change the rest of his high school experience. He took a sharp breath, cutting into his parents\u2019 small talk at the most opportune moment.<\/p>\n

\u201cDad, can I have a computer?\u201d<\/p>\n

Harold took a sip of his water, raising his eyebrows at his son.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat do you need a computer for?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cSchoolwork.\u201d Ferris already had this thought out. \u201cResearch, programming, and uh\u2014\u201c<\/p>\n

He mumbled the next part.<\/p>\n

\u201cGaming.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell, what\u2019s wrong with our computer?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI need my own. You\u2019re using it half the time, for your work. If I got my own, then it would just be your personal computer instead of ours. I think it would be a good investment, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI completely agree,\u201d Harold said.<\/p>\n

\u201cReally? You do?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf course. I fully support you. So, how are you going to pay for it?\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris glared at his father, not appreciating his sense of humor at the moment. \u201cDad, that\u2019s why I was asking you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWell really,\u201d Harold said. \u201cIf it\u2019s your computer, you should pay for it.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI don\u2019t have any money.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s what jobs are for,\u201d his father said with a smile.<\/p>\n

Ruth hit her husband\u2019s arm with a napkin. \u201cOh Harold, just buy him one. Quit being so cheap.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe needs to learn the value of a dollar.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBist meshugeh? He\u2019s fifteen years old!\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris buried his face in his hands. His parents continued to bicker for the next 45 minutes. He should have known better than to bring it up at dinner; a long informative letter might have been a better plan. The argument had gotten nowhere as a result of Harold\u2019s determination to make Ferris get a job and Ruth\u2019s general stubbornness about anything and everything.<\/p>\n

\u201cCan I be excused, please?\u201d Ferris said, his voice weary.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou get a job if you want that computer, and that\u2019s final.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, Dad.\u201d<\/p>\n

Before the sound of their back-and-forthing could be permanently embedded in his head, he left the table, taking his plate to the kitchen and putting it in the sink. The hot water ran over his hands as he grew lost in thought.<\/p>\n

He was certain that one had to be at least sixteen to hold a normal job, so he would have to do something simple like raking leaves or dog walking. Hopefully being under the legal age limit to work wouldn\u2019t put too much of a damper on his search. Then again, there was one place where the word \u2018legal<\/i>\u2019 had little meaning.<\/p>\n

#<\/p>\n

Ristorante Giorgetti was busy for a Wednesday night\u2014the kitchen was noisy with the sounds of cooking and talking. Gino was standing by the bar, engaged in a conversation with Victor and a customer. He had founded and owned the restaurant, but running a criminal family was a full-time job. Nowadays, Gino in a chef\u2019s uniform was a rare sight.<\/p>\n

Demos and Ferris weaved through guests and wait staff toward the bar.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou sure about this?\u201d Ferris said.<\/p>\n

Demos only smiled, keeping his grip on Ferris\u2019 wrist. \u201cJust trust me.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gino caught the pair approaching from the corner of his eye. \u201cIf you\u2019ll excuse us,\u201d he said. \u201cI need to catch up with my grandson.\u201d<\/p>\n

The customer nodded. \u201cOf course, Mr. Giorgetti. It was a pleasure.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos exchanged a kiss with his grandfather. \u201cCiao, Nonno.\u201d<\/p>\n

Gino turned his attention to Ferris, smiling at him in a way that only an old Italian could. His white hair had receded and age had left lines along his brow, but the most striking feature of the man was his eyes. They were a brilliant blue, the type that one could catch from across a room.<\/p>\n

\u201cFerris, good to see you,\u201d Gino said. \u201cHere for dinner?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cActually, Ferris needs a job,\u201d Demos said, his hand on Gino\u2019s shoulder. \u201cThere\u2019s plenty he could do, right?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s a good kid, Pap\u00e0<\/span>.\u201d Victor was leaning on the bar with a hand in his pocket. The look he gave Ferris was short, but clear. As much as it bothered him, Ferris had never said a word about the body in the trunk.<\/p>\n

\u201cYes, yes, of course,\u201d Gino said. \u201cAs long as you stay and eat something.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cR-right.\u201d Ferris couldn\u2019t have protested if he wanted to, immediately led away by the wrist. \u201cThank you, Sir.\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor led the two boys to a back room past the bar. It was a private space with a fireplace and one long table flanked by a dozen chairs. There was something out of place about the room, as if it was meant for meetings rather than dining.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou two sit here,\u201d Victor said. \u201cI\u2019ll bring you some cacciatore.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris leaned back in his seat. That hadn\u2019t been much of a job interview, but he had no intention to complain.<\/p>\n

\u201cI wonder what they\u2019re going to have me do,\u201d Ferris said. \u201cDishes, I guess?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMaybe. I do prep work, like weighing out the pasta and everything. Oh, you\u2019d make a slick waiter,\u201d Demos said.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah, a fifteen-year-old waiter. I hope the Department of Labor comes in for a bite.\u201d<\/p>\n

Demos laughed, folding his arms across his chest. \u201cNonno\u2019s got every cop and judge from here to Jersey bribed somehow or another.\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor returned, pushing the door open with his hip as both of his hands were occupied with plates. \u201cMangia,\u201d he said. \u201cHave some wine, too.\u201d As Demos took the plates, Victor\u2019s attention turned to Ferris. \u201cYou start next Monday,\u201d Victor said. \u201cAfter school.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAll right, thanks.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris noticed it one last time before Victor left\u2014that look. That trace of a smile, one that was so rare on the man\u2019s face. The door shut with a click.<\/p>\n

Demos raised his glass. \u201cWell, here\u2019s to your new career.\u201d<\/p>\n

Ferris joined his friend\u2019s toast, not sure which would be more taxing\u2014a career as a dishwasher, or a career with the Giorgettis.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Illustration by Eyugho Ferris pushed his dinner in a circle around his plate. It wasn\u2019t the food, but the knot in his stomach. It was a result of piling several days of anxiety into a final climactic night, leading to one question whose answer would change the rest of his high school experience. He took […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-758","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fishbones-book-01"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4oWx8-ce","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"post_mailing_queue_ids":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/758","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=758"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/758\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":778,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/758\/revisions\/778"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=758"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=758"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/www.fishbonescomic.com\/novel\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=758"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}