Read Online Taking Stock by Scott Bartlett - Free Book Online

holding a white coffee cup, and as he sips from it he peers at me over the lid.
    “No.”
    “Well, maybe Sunday, then. I’ll have to see if I’m working. I think Ralph is posting the schedule tomorrow.”
    “Yeah, Ernie. You’ll definitely have to get back to me about that.”
    “I’m really glad we got the chance to spend time together, Sheldon. When we were in high school, I used to sometimes think you didn’t like me. Every now and then, I even got the feeling you looked down on me.”
    “Don’t be silly.”
    “Well I’m glad to learn it isn’t true. At least, if it was true then, it certainly shouldn’t be now. You have no reason to look down on me.”
    “You mean, other than being taller than you?”
    Ernie takes another sip, and then raises his coffee a few inches into the air. “This looks disposable, doesn’t it? It looks like your everyday disposable cup.”
    “Sure.”
    “It’s not, though.” He taps on the side of the cup with his fingernail. “It’s made of porcelain, and it’s reusable. My mug looks disposable, but, in actual fact, it’s saving the planet.”
    “That’s—”
    “Why were you wearing Velcro sneakers on your first shift? And why haven’t you worn them since?”
    The tightness in my chest returns. I didn’t realize it was gone.
    “Well?” Ernie says.
    “I hate shoelaces,” I say at last.
    Ernie grunts. “The carts need to be brought in,” he says. “Gilbert and Brent already called ‘not it’, and I’m on break. Wanna go do that for me?” He turns and struts in the direction of the warehouse.
    I don’t know when Ernie discovered environmentalism. Sometime between high school and now, I guess. He’s made it his mission to make sure every cardboard box gets broken down and put in the cardboard compactor, where it’ll get recycled, instead of in the trash compactor, where it won’t.
    Earlier tonight, he tried to prevent Gilbert from wasting cardboard by locking up the garbage chute. Gilbert grinned, and 20 minutes later the padlock had disappeared. Ernie confronted him.
    “What did you do with the lock?” he said, his face getting red. “Our species doesn’t own this planet, Gilbert. We’ve only borrowed it. You need to recycle. We all need to.”
    Gilbert laughed. “Let me tell you about recycling, Ernest, you waste of ejaculate. Unless 100 percent of everything gets recycled—and it doesn’t—resources will run out. You can reduce and reuse all you want. Society depends on several key resources, and when just one of those is gone, there goes society.”
    Saturday comes, and I’m working then, too—6:00 to 10:00. Just as I’m beginning to wonder who’s helping me front, Tommy shows up, wearing a uniform. Without speaking, he reaches into the shelf for a bottle of dish detergent. He doesn’t make it, though. His hand drops to his side. He sighs.
    “I thought you quit,” I say.
    “My parents wouldn’t let me. They called Ralph and told him to ignore my resignation.” He runs a hand through his sparse hair. “I don’t want to die fronting.”
    “You don’t have to worry yet. The supernova’s not till after Christmas, right?”
    He nods. “174 days.”
     
    *
     
    The psych ward was plastered all over with inspirational messages.
    “If a window of opportunity appears, don’t pull down the shade.”
    “He who seeks rest finds boredom. He who seeks work finds rest.”
    “The only job where you start at the top is digging a hole.”
    One afternoon, Sam made up his own: “It’s better to lead a life filled with failure than one filled with apathy.”
    When I felt over-inspired, I sat in the TV room. There weren’t any inspirational messages in there. This particular evening, there was a patient I hadn’t seen before. He was sitting cross-legged, and bouncing up and down. He met my glance with a wide smile. “Hi.”
    “Hi.”
    He looked back at the TV, still bouncing. I tried not to stare, but it was hard to avoid looking out the