Free Shooting Stars by C. A. Huggins

report before he left for the day. The manager knew the storm was coming, but I guess he figured since it already started to flurry and Max was already at the office it wouldn’t hurt to ask. So Max stayed. He worked until nine thirty that night, as the snow piled up on the roads. His manager went home long before him, probably immediately after he made the request. And guess what happened to Max?”
    “His hard work was praised by his superiors, and he got a certificate of commendation?” Eddie says.
    “First of all, don’t ever use that term again,” I say.
    “What?”
    “ Superiors. How are they superior ?” I say.
    Eddie looks like he’s about to say something, but he catches himself.
    I continue, “And no, Max didn’t get one of those cheap certificates that they print out and laminate. Max died on the way home. He lost control of his Miata on the ice and slid right underneath a Mack truck. Crushed him. Crushed him in that little-ass car. They put his picture on the company homepage for three days to honor his memory and sent flowers to his funeral. That’s it. They didn’t even go to the funeral, because there was an important meeting with some clients that day. And here’s the kicker about his urgent work . That report wasn’t even due the next day. His manager didn’t even look at it until one week later.”
    Eddie doesn’t say anything, as he’s overwhelmed with sadness for a man he never met.
    More time passes, and I notice Eddie is even quieter. I take this as an opportunity to get to know him. “So what’s your deal?”
    “What do you mean?” Eddie says.
    “You know, what are you about?”
    “Oh, you want me to tell you about myself?”
    I can see this mentorship is going to be a lot harder than I thought. Everything with this guy requires a detailed explanation.
    “Well, I graduated magna cum laude last spring with a double major in computer science and business administration, with a focus in human resources. I’m very excited to be under your tutelage.”
    “Yes, you’ve said so at least ten times already,” I say.
    “Well . . . okay. I’m engaged to the love of my life—”
    “Whoa,” Jake interrupts. “Getting married? You’re way too young for that. You’re like sixteen years old. A, why put yourself through that? And B, aren’t there state rules that make that illegal?”
    “Actually, I’m twenty-two,” Eddie says. “And I’m perfectly ready to get married. Like I said, she’s the love of my life. My world begins and ends with her.”
    Eddie reaches around his neck, underneath his tightly collared shirt, and pulls out a necklace. He opens the shiny oval locket, which he probably polishes nightly before he puts on his footie pajamas. It’s a picture of his fiancée. He hands me the locket. She’s a nice-looking girl. Looks about as young as he does. I don’t really know what to say. So I rely on something I think I should say: “Umm, congratulations.”
    Jake snatches the locket from my hand. “What a sucker for love,” he says as he inspects the picture closely, like it’s a clue for a murder investigation. Then, in true Jake fashion, he offers his typical analysis: “I’d fuck her face. Wouldn’t wife it up, though, especially if I were twenty-two.”
    Eddie takes offense to the locker-room talk being directed at his college sweetheart.
    “That’s so cliché. Why is it always a picture of a woman’s face in a locket? Why never just her ass? Then, I can really see what she’s working with,” Jake continues.
    Eddie grabs the locket back. “I want to start a family with her.” He turns to me. “I know you understand.”
    I have no idea what this young kid is talking about. “Why would I understand?”
    “You have a beautiful family. I saw them on the picture you have on your desk,” Eddie says.
    Jake and I break out into laughter. “That?” I say.
    “Not his family,” Jake says.
    Eddie looks at both of us with a befuddled expression.