Free Shooting Stars by C. A. Huggins Page A

“Then, who is it?”
    Jake continues, “Who the fuck knows? That’s a random family. He keeps it on his desk so people think he has a family.”
    Eddie still doesn’t understand.
    I pick up where Jake leaves off. “I use them as an excuse. They ask me to stay late. I can’t, because I gotta take lil’ Larry to wrestling practice. Someone’s having a party they want me to attend. It’s always the same day as Brittany’s cello recitals. You get it?”
    “He even went as far as taking wedding pictures,” Jake says.
    “I was going to Photoshop myself in, but I hired a crew instead, with an actress to play my wife, and recreated a few wedding scenes. She wasn’t really an actress, more like an aspiring model and acting student from the community college. But then, she knew people, and everything worked out fine.”
    He can’t believe he was duped, but I’m good at what I do. “That worked?” he says.
    “All the time. Who would go out of their way to investigate and call me on it?” I reply.
    “I really don’t get it. I just don’t. This gig is pretty sweet,” Eddie says as he shakes his head.
    His statement is welcomed with confused facial expressions from Jake and me.
    “I mean, look at it this way, some people don’t have jobs at all,” he continues.
    “I don’t care about them.” I sit back and look at him, trying to figure out what I should say next. “Let’s hear more about you. How long do you plan on staying at this job?”
    Without hesitation, Eddie says, “Hopefully for the rest of my professional career. I want to grow old and retire from STD.”
    “You can’t be serious,” Jake says. He waves over the waitress. “Excuse me, but can I see the dessert menu?”
    Eddie looks at Jake, and then almost looks at his watch, but decides not to with Jake staring at him. “I’m totally serious,” he continues. “I wanna learn as much I can from you. Act as a sponge and soak up all the knowledge you have to offer. And work my way up the ladder. They’re paying me well—”
    My interest is piqued. “Whoa, how much are they paying you, exactly?”
    Eddie’s about to speak, but then he catches himself. “Ah, you almost had me.” He chuckles.
    Jack and I look at each other.
    “They warned us in orientation not to discuss salaries or raises with other employees. It breeds jealousy. That was my first test, right?”
    Jake throws one of my French fries at Eddie. “You and that fucking orientation. Say one more thing about orientation or about the employee handbook and I’m throwing this bottle of steak sauce. Go ahead. Say it.”
    I put my hands in front Jake, urging him to cease fire on his impending A.1. assault. “No, it wasn’t a test,” I say. “I would like to know. Look, Floyd assigned me as your mentor. But I want to be more than that. Consider me your friendtor . In order to facilitate the mentor process I need to know this piece of information, and we need open and sincere lines of communication. I know how much Jake makes. And he knows how much I make.”
    Jake nods in agreement.
    “I guess if you think it’s best,” Eddie says.
----
    J ake , Eddie, and I are back in the office walking to our desks. Right now, I’m fuming to the point that I’m walking about ten yards in front of both of them, not wanting to look at Eddie. He’s right behind me, apologizing over and over again the whole ride back. His regret only makes it worst. I don’t want to hear his voice, so I march on. And Jake can’t keep up, because he’s laughing hysterically, to the point that his face is beet red, with tears streaming down his cheeks.
    “I’m sorry. But what did I do?” Eddie says as we approach our adjacent seats.
    I don’t respond to a word he says. I sit down at my chair and put my iPod headphones on. And then, I stare at my computer screen and try to zone out everything and everyone but the Oasis being fed directly to my eardrums. That worked for about two minutes, until my new