Boxes were still stacked around the bedroom so it took a little longer for him to find his tie clip, which was stashed along with loose change, paper clips, and scraps of paper with notes that no longer made sense in the little pine box that usually sat on his dresser. The dresser instead had a folder containing Fred’s job description and an employment agreement that meant he’d have job security for at least the next three years. It was iron clad and neither party could back out of it now, a notion that provided Fred great comfort. It had been a long search and the family had lost their savings. The idea of three years without even having to entertain the thought of finding a new job was comforting, indeed.
Fred found the little pine box near the bottom of a box that also held his t-shirts, socks, underwear and some wool hats and gloves. “Won’t be needing those anytime soon,” Fred thought cheerfully. In fact, he was breaking a sweat as the sun drilled in through the curtain-less windows. It was 7:15 and hot already.
“Gonna be a scorcher!”
Two of the three S’s out of the way, Fred hurried through his shave and nicked his jaw. The sting of his aftershave brought him out of whatever was left of his sleepy head and Fred went downstairs. His kids were there at the table silently picking at their breakfast.
“Good morning, family” Fred boomed. “Gonna be a hot one today! Not like back in Amsterdam
The kids didn’t say a word. They started blankly into their cereal and occasionally stirred the milk in circles.
“C’mon guys. I know you miss your friends, but after a few years here you’ll have just as many pals. More, I bet!”
Fred looked at his wife, who was standing in the kitchen sifting through boxes.
“Cereal will have to do today, Freddy. I don’t know where any of my kitchenware is. The movers must not have been able to read because this is obviously not the den,” she said jabbing the side of the box clearly marked with a Magic Marker.
“Well, they did get us moved in pretty quickly, you gotta admit that,” Fred replied.
His wife let her mind drift to the site of their sweating muscles and rough hands. They did have an amazing ability to move things; to exert great force over objects. Watching them strain to get the antique dressers up the stairs was a sight. They were fast, if not accurate.
“Yes, I suppose they did move quickly, Freddy.”
“Well, I’m off. Wish your old man luck on the first day!”
The kids winced. One mumbled something and slowly looked up from his cereal. Fred barely acknowledged the hatred on his son's face before blowing his wife a kiss over the stacked moving boxes. She didn’t notice.
Fred backed the car out of the garage and saw his neighbor pulling out at the same time. They hadn’t met yet and the neighbor had not yet acknowledged Fred as they both slowly crept backwards out of their driveways.
“Gonna be a hot one!” Fred yelled through his open window. The neighbor turned to face Fred and almost said something but stopped. His face turned to puzzlement and then what looked a little to Fred like scorn. The man went back to his task and jerked the car into drive. Fred pursed his lips and easily put his own car into gear.
It was a good thing Fred had left a little early as the traffic was much worse than he expected. Sure, he’d been warned by the girl at his office that it can “get hairy” during rush hour but this was something else altogether. This was madness. How does anyone get to work at all? A lot changes when you're out of the country for seven years. He wasn't used to the pace of things; sometimes speeding headway into the day and sometimes stalled on a highway. Everything was...amplified...somehow bigger.
The temperature climbed and Fred rolled back the canvas curtain across the roof of his car. He was so glad he’d paid a little extra for the feature even though his wife thought it was “weird” and a bit extravagant at the time.
“Who’s laughing now?” Fred said aloud, which drew the attention of the man in the car next to him whose own window was down. A Marlboro dangled from his lazy hand as they crept together through the scorching heat of the mid-morning sun. The man stared looked at Fred and then up to the open space above Fred’s head where the roof of his car should be. His look changed as Fred’s neighbor’s had.
“What is it with these people?” Fred asked himself.
Soon Fred noticed he was getting stares from everyone. Every car that surrounded him held men like him on their way to work who alternately laughed at him or stared in dismissive disbelief. Worse were the cars with children who pointed and laughed. That was just rude.
Fred’s face turned red and he gripped the wheel a little tighter. It was a dependable car that had never given him a lick of trouble. It was so dependable—and cheap to drive!—that he’d paid to ship it to the states at no small expense to himself. Again, his wife thought it was ridiculous but why would he buy a car that was just like everyone else’s when he could go pay a little extra and make a statement? He figured it’d be a great conversation starter.
“Hey pal, where’d you get that car?” they’d ask.
“Well, I did some work in Europe and picked it up for a song in Amsterdam
Fred was really sweating and felt sunburn setting in through his thinning hair. He reached up to roll the roof closed and burned his fingers on the black canvass. Two kids sitting in the third, rear-facing seat of a station wagon laughed at him. Fred lowered his eyes to avoid their stare and saw the sun faded bumper sticker framed in glinting chrome.
“Don’t Mess With Texas
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