Your Favors Nor Your Hate

by Jeff Baker

“I didn’t know you could climb up here,” Rupert said.

“Yeah.” C. W. said. “Glad my Dad doesn’t keep track of the key.”

“Would you look at the view!” Rupert said, looking through the little window.

“Yeah, you can see the whole town,” C. W. said. “Nothing like a grain elevator to get you up in the world.”

“And you’re still working for your Dad here in town.” Rupert said.

“And you’re off in the big city,” C. W. said. “Wow.”

“Yeah.” Rupert said. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big You’re making money hand over fist.” C. W. said.

“Just a matter of getting yourself in the right place and going for it.” Rupert said. “Seeing an opportunity and taking it.”

The opportunity, C. W. thought, that should have been his.

“Yeah.” C. W. said. “Some people get to do that. Hey, look over at the other wall. You can see all the way to Sumner City.”

He pointed and Rupert turned around, hanging on to the railing on the little catwalk that was all that separated them from the big space of the grain elevator.

A long way down.

“Yeah, I think I can almost see their water tower from here,” Rupert said squinting at the window on the opposite wall. “Hey remember when your brother got caught trying to climb up the water tower here? That’s when they put up all that barbed wire…”

C. W. remembered. And while Rupert was talking he was leaning. Maybe a bit too far.

It wouldn’t take much, just a shove…

C. W. just stood and stared. He couldn’t bring himself to risk going somewhere else for a job, couldn’t go for the opportunities, and he couldn’t do this.

What had his guidance counselor said? “Unmotivated.”

“Hey,” Rupert said, turning to C. W. and grinning. “I bet old man Meyerbeer still has that ice cream stand open. It’s not too late. My treat.”

C. W. faked a smile and nodded. “You can afford it.”

As they clamored down the stairs, C. W. imagined screwing up his courage and asking his Dad for a raise.

—end—