The Picture of Nobody Read Free Page A

peeking at me above his newspaper. Once, an old man with a red cap and a nose like a potato said to him, “See you got a new boy, Chum. Wonder how long this one’s going to last?”
    “We see, mister.” He said this in a sad, tired way, as if he expected I would not return the next day. But I was determined. On my way home, I tried to imagine all the benefits of working in Sip and Sup. Once I got used to mopping, it would be far easier. And Mr. Chum might increase my hours and even offer me a job behind the counter. Mr. Chum himself looked a little grumpy, but he had a really friendly name. However, the best reward of all would be seeing my parents’ face when I showed them my first pay.

Chapter Five

    At the end of my first week at Sip and Sup, I realized that there were three groups of regular customers. They came every day and always chose the same tables. They also talked about the same topics. The old ladies sat just in front of the exit, dressed in what seemed like brand new coats and scarves. They usually talked about their dead husbands and about tulips. They were all powdered up, as if they had been invited to a tea party or something.
    In the left corner sat a group of old men. I thought their wives must still be alive because unlike the old women they chatted mostly about wars and government stuff. Black men wearing puffy coats and baseball caps made upthe third group. When they settled around their own table and began to talk and laugh loudly, the old men became quiet. They got lively only when the black men left to walk across the road to a high-rise building. The black men never stayed very long.
    Before I started working, I had noticed the three or four young men who often sat at one of the outdoor tables. They watched the neighbourhood girls. Now I saw that they never came into Sip and Sup to order anything. I don’t think Mr. Chum liked them hanging around the place. He would turn his newspaper pages roughly whenever he noticed them. Once I heard him grumbling about “idlers and roafers.” I took a while to realize that he meant “loafers.”
    One day as I was leaving to go home, one of the loafers asked, “Hey, buddy, do you speak Chinese?”
    When I said I didn’t, the group began to laugh. The next day, another loafer called out, “Hey, buddy, where are you from?”
    I guessed he meant before I moved to Ajax, so I answered, Napanee. Before that, another asked. New Brunswick, I told him.
    “What a comedian,” the first one said. He wasn’t laughing, though.
    When I got home, Mom asked her usual question: did I make any new friends? Mom felt that I was too shy and that I spent too much time in the library and on the computer. I blamed Allison for Mom’s worries because she often called me “geek” and “nerd.” Dad would take my side, though. “Talent without discipline is useless,” he would say.
    Anyway, that evening I told Mom that I had chatted for a minute with some boys outside the coffee shop. That seemed to put her in a really good mood. Then, during dinner, Dad told us about the new job he expected to begin soon.
    “Is it in Toronto?” Allison asked.
    “In Ajax, dear,” Mom said. “Making cell phone batteries.” I could tell my sister was disappointed and angry from the way she rapped her fork against her plate. I felt a little sorry for her, and I decided I would buy her a small gift when I got my first pay. Maybe a black wristband to match her necklace.

Chapter Six

    I got my first pay exactly one month after I began working at Sip and Sup. Before Mr. Chum gave me the money, he waved it around as if it were a thousand dollars. “Now, don’t go spending on trip to Hawaii. Hah.”
    As I made my way down the outside steps, one of the young men asked, “Hey, buddy, what are you holding in your pocket?”
    “My first pay,” I told him rather proudly.
    A tall guy with a cap pulled low over his forehead had a slim beard running down his chin. It looked like a