Ted’s shift at Uncommon Grounds had just ended, and he was doing his side-work. Penelope walked in for her shift and asked him how work was. He told her that it had been hard that day. There were more customers than usual. That, and they all wanted complicated drink orders. And, added to that, Julia had not shown up for work, so they were understaffed. He told her that Julia was being fired for not showing up.
“Oh no!”
“Yes.”
“She was such a good server though.”
“That’s what happens when you don’t show up.”
After they talked about Julia, Ted told Penelope that he was on his way out. She told him to wait for her to get a break. She had to talk to him about something. Ted, feeling impatient, asked if it couldn’t wait until the next time they were on shift together. Penelope said no, it was important, and she was afraid to wait that long. Ted looked on the schedule posted behind the hostess stand.
“But it says we’re working together Friday.”
“That’s three days.”
“It’s really only two and a half.”
“A night is an entire day in my opinion,” she countered.
“Fine. Is it really that important?”
“Incredibly so.”
Ted sat down and had a café latte, which he received at a half off discount, and which Penelope made for him. Their manager, Claudia, was filling in for Julia in addition to her supervisory duties.
“I heard Julia got fired today.”
“That’s right.”
“Is it really fair?”
“She wasn’t here. She didn’t call or anything, and that’s a fire-able offense.”
Penelope decided she was slightly afraid of Claudia.
“So if I just sleep in too late one day, and I can’t call because I can’t hear my alarm clock, I’ll get fired?”
“You better not.”
“Can I take a break?”
“Well, yes. But you better take it before the 6:00 rush.”
It was 5:45.
She shouted to Ted, “Are you finished with that café latte yet?”
He shouted back, “Yes!”
“I’m taking it now.” she said.
She walked to Ted and asked if he had a cigarette.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
“There’s an occasion for everything, sometimes.”
They walked outside together and he gave her one of his Benson and Hedges. He also took one for himself. He lit them both up.
“Look we never talked about how we slept together,” she began with a puff.
“I know,” he said as he took a puff.
“You don’t think we should have?”
“What’s to talk about?”
“Whether you wanted to anymore or not.”
“Um,” he said.
“Because I felt really bad about it, at first, but you never said anything,” she said.
“Well, sure. I didn’t.”
“Do you mean, you didn’t want to anymore?”
“No, I had a really good time that night,”
“It was only like four days ago you know.”
“Yeah, why do you bring it up now?” he asked and took a puff.
“I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t be upset,” she said taking a puff.
“About what?”
“I met someone new,” she said, exhaling smoke like a steam engine.
“Oh,” he said, taking another.
“So I just wanted to be sure you wouldn’t feel weird. I mean, we work together, you know?”
“Yeah, we do.”
“I didn’t think it was a good idea in the first place.”
“Yeah, I thought it might complicate things a bit,” he offered
“We were drunk.”
“Yes, and already at my apartment.”
“It was bound to happen.”
“At least it happened once,” he said, taking a last puff
“So, you’re not mad?” she asked a last time.
“I wouldn’t say I’m happy. But I’m not mad, no,” he said, tossing his cigarette to the ground.
“Okay.”
“My search will continue,” he said, smiling and looking aside.
“I just wanted to be sure it wouldn’t be weird when we work together.”
“Right, we have to keep the machine moving forward.”
“Alright, well I have to go back in, Claudia’s probably pissed already.” she said, putting the cigarette out.
“Good luck tonight. It’s getting more crowded the closer we get to Halloween, I think.”
“Crazy,” she said, “Take care!”
Ted walked down the street and started thinking. He was thinking about what he would do once he got home, and he didn’t know. He didn’t have any more important things to complete. He was not hungry, he was not tired, he did not want to read and he had no movies to watch. He decided he could watch TV. Then he decided that TV was not the thing he should be looking forward to, particularly since there was nothing on that he was dying to see. This was quite a quandary as far as Ted was concerned—truly not having anything to do. So he kept walking around the commercial district. He paced back and forth up the street nearly a mile in each direction. There was nothing he wanted, nothing he needed to buy.
“There’s only one person she mentioned, and I know he wouldn’t just talk to her, and leave it at that. No. Luther is only interested in getting laid. That is the only facet of him I ever saw. Does he care for Penny the way I do? Could he possibly know what is at stake in a relationship with her? She tells me everything, she’s so honest to me, and she doesn’t hide things or hold them back. And she met someone else, who she can talk better to? Obviously it’s going again to prove that amicability matters less than looks. Am I really not as good looking as him? Or is he just more gregarious? Is he less awkward? Can’t she see that he’s shallow, and that he has no ambitions? I wish I could sit around all day and just talk and not get bored as hell with the narrow limitations of the conversation. It’s not going to last. She couldn’t stay with him long before she realizes how stuck up and righteous he allows himself to be. Whatever, she’s gone, for now at least, and now it’s sketchy if I act like anything more than a good friend. I’m going to make her regret going with him. She doesn’t know what she let get away. There are not many other men like me. They all submit their wills in the name of the future. I refuse to think that far ahead. I will think of now, and I’m not going to worry about doing something wrong. What have I got to protect? What reputation have I got to uphold? I can only get better, regardless.”
The Freudian implications of Ted’s interior monologue should not distract the reader, because it is clear that he has nothing to care about except Penelope. Ted’s mother and father are not characters in this story, and to include them would only complicate matters more greatly. They might lend some interesting character development, though. Perhaps it would be easiest to simply state what Ted’s parents might bring to the table, were they to appear here. Ted’s father would ignore the more intangible aspects of his son’s intelligence, instead preferring that Ted use his life to undertake something more steady and reliable and respectable than being a coffee shop clerk. Ted’s mother would be supportive, too supportive one might argue, and would prefer that Ted do whatever made him happy. So his parents are not real characters, and who knows where they live, and who knows what they do, and who knows who they are—none of that plays a factor here. Ted is alone in the world—his parents could be 2,000 miles away for all we know. He is an only child. That perhaps is a more important piece of character development. He has no brothers or sisters towards which to turn in times of turmoil. The only people he goes to for advice are his friends, and all too often they give terrible advice. He might call his parents for advice, but he had no interest in talking to them, and he had no interest in the sort of advice they would give, because he already knew what it would be. Parental advice was so reasonable it almost made him shudder. If he were to call his parents, and ask what they thought he should do about the Penelope situation, they would tell him to go beat up Luther and win Penelope’s heart with affection. They would either say that, or that she wasn’t worth it anyways.
But there he was, walking alone in the night, and we should take a step back, as observers of his predicament, and try to understand just what was going through his head. It’s quite clear that he’s upset, but there doesn’t seem to be a way out of this particular brand of disappointment. Penelope “met someone new.” Ted is old news. Whatever he gave to Penelope, obviously Luther has given more, or better. Long ago it was mentioned that Penelope merely sought out bodily pleasure after the death of her husband. Nobody knows this except her. Putting this together, we get a sort of dramatic irony. It is to be implied that Penelope felt Luther was a better lover than Ted. However, neither of them is supposed to know that the other exists in relation to Penelope. Ted is given the heads up here, and Luther has not bothered to ask, nor has Rory bothered to point out the inconsistencies, nor has Jeanne or Missy felt the need to point it out, and this is surely none of Marcus’s business. Perhaps they are all in this together, but Ted is both shut out of their friendly coterie, and given secret knowledge. So he is at once ahead and behind. Maybe he is the only one amongst us who would have the clairvoyance to predict the remarkable chain of events that threatens the decimation of the narrative. Maybe he is the only one with the power to change things, to shake things up, to cause serious trouble. Maybe something different will come along for him, though, and maybe he can simply extricate himself from the proceedings without spreading any sort of wickedness.
Would you believe me if I told you Ted was a witch? That he had studied witchcraft as a hobby while he was in high school? It may sound strange, but at the time it was a very popular pursuit actually. Ted did not play sports or do theater or drugs or music, so naturally the friends he made were strange ones and they had gradually pulled him into their little supernatural world. They made potions, they cast spells, they had weird rituals which they would conduct on the weekends, and at first Ted was suspicious, but the first time he saw someone else affected by one of their spells, he was in. He might have been called a real witch for about one calendar year, from October 1998 to 1999, let’s estimate. He stopped when he entered college and he realized that no one else there needed to be a witch anymore. It was a fad. He was going to look like a dork if he continued the old weekend rituals on his own. So he had not bothered to exhume his box of witch literature from the storage closet of the basement of his apartment building. It had sat there since he had moved in a year earlier. He had never kept it at his parent’s house for fear that they would go through it and perhaps use his forgotten powers against him.
“Just so it wouldn’t be weird when we worked together. Is that all that matters anymore? Business over pleasure? I guess it is that way in the end. Yes to business and no to pleasure because pleasure implies a shirking of one’s responsibilities. What are my responsibilities? Press button, grind beans, shake drink, and pronounce complicated beverage names effortlessly? It’s not exactly rocket science. I’d be a better rocket scientist than a coffee server because at least then I’d be making money and at least then I wouldn’t look like such a deadbeat. But what could she possibly see in Luther? How is he not at least twice as big a deadbeat as me? Does he have an ‘artistic’ temperament that renders him more attractive or interesting? There’s such a glaring emptiness about him. Maybe he’s changed from when I last saw him. But people never change too dramatically. He’s still the same person underneath. I don’t know what she sees in him. Does she expect him to replace Paul or something? Is she really ready to date so soon after? Does Luther even know, or care about the fact? She is beautiful, and she doesn’t deserve to get hurt again.”
This was going through Ted’s mind as he stepped onto the train and on his way back home. He looked at an advertisement for HIV prevention. He started laughing. A girl standing a few feet behind and to the left of him stepped forward.
“Why are you laughing at that?” she asked.
“Look at how happy the guy looks. I want HIV if I can look that happy!”
“You’ve got the devil in you,” the girl intoned.
“And what would you know about the devil?”
“Lots of things.”
“I bet I know more. You can’t top me in devil knowledge.” Ted joked.
“Try me.”
“Okay, question one, what does the devil actually do?”
“He only tempts. He does not commit evil acts himself.” She answered assuredly.
“Question two, are Satan and the devil the same thing?”
“Satan is the ruler of hell, whereas the devil is his spirit.” She said hesitatingly.
“I don’t know about that one. But question three, where does the devil thrive?”
“In nature. Man-made civilization enshrouds his deeds in man’s own wickedness.”
“Interesting theory, but I think you’re wrong on all fronts. You don’t look like the type that has experience with the devil himself.”
“Oh do I?”
“No. Have you ever been afraid of getting HIV?”
“Yes.”
“You go towards the light, not the dark. You’re like me, except I wasn’t always that way.” Ted explained.
“I think you’re wrong about a few things.”
“There’s only one thing to do then.”
“What’s that?”
“You have to come back to my apartment with me.”
“Hey, I don’t know.”
“You have to trust me. You’re the only person who can help me now.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“But you know a little about the devil?”
“A little.”
“And do you want to know what I know about the devil?”
“It sounds dangerous.”
“Well, it is. But, it’s as dangerous as you want it to be.”
The train slowed down.
“This is my stop. Are you getting off with me?” Ted asked in desperation.
“Okay. Tell me what you know about the devil.”
They walked off together and went up the stairs and into Ted’s apartment.
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