I.

2011...

"So, Mr. Goof. I understand you were a Licensed Practical Nurse before applying here."

The twenty-eight-year-old man smiled nervously, revealing his two buck teeth.

"Well, Mr. Goof?" Mrs. Popchock inquired.

"Yeah, err, yes, ma'am. I received a two-year associates and left for a few years to pursue my career. And, well, it would really mean a lot to me to have a career as an RN because-, uh, well because…" When she asked if it was to break the female stereotype he went red.

The elderly woman remained deadpanned for a moment before bursting out into laughter.

"Uh-heh, uh-heh, why are we laughing?"

"Oh, don't worry sweetheart. Many a male work in this profession, you have nothing to worry about. You've maintained a four point average and you have an excellent resume."

"Oh," Max laughed nervously, "Great. I was so worried that I wouldn't get hired."

Mrs. Popchock turned expressionless again.

His face dropped.

Her eyes crinkled, "HAHAHAHA!" she resumed her sobriety. "Probation starts at 6 am."

"I'll be here." He nodded with a smile.

The woman frowned. "Don't you mean 'there' as in your assigned hallway?"

Max's eyes widened.

"Pfft - HAHAHAHA!"

"Heh-heh… yeah." He gathered some papers and stowed them into his briefcase, holding everything under his arm as he pushed open the heavy brown door of the nursing home. It was a relief to leave the hilarity-induced staff coordinator to herself. "Right, like I need to laugh in the real world," Max muttered to himself, "Why is it no one takes life seriously?"

This was true of his father Goofy too; even in this bad economy he hadn't tried for a job.

The man saw two aides chatting over a cart as they were arranging medications. He gave a haggard breath and started heading out into mid-day Forkersboro — a town several hours outside of Spoonersville. Max was ready to go home and fix himself a lunch when a hand found his own. A hunched over man in his wheelchair was staring up expectantly. He had a look in his eyes that suggested that he might be in pain, but before Max could walk over to the aides and try to find out where the LPN on duty was he was linked around the neck.

"Max!" P.J. said excitedly.

"P.J.! I… aye-yie-yie!" He looked his baggy-clothed friend from head-to-toe.

"What's up, man?" P.J. said as he plopped a half-eaten chilidog into his mouth.

"Peej, it's been four months, man. I thought you had gotten a job by now!"

"Oh, no way man." The heavy-set guy looked for a place to sit down and settled for using a hoyer lift right behind him. "Haaa!" he clashed his hands behind his head, looking lazily up at his stunned friend as he swung back and forth; the machine strained under his weight.

"P.J.," Max came up and pushed a button down on the tan remote, leveling the man onto his feet before the makeshift hammock gave way, "It's great ta see ya pal, but what's up?"

"What's up? Uh… not my credit score, Max. Actually, I don't have credits to be scored."

"Dude, it's not that hard! Haven't you tried online? They're tons of job sites out there."

"Ever since I dropped out it's been one dead-in job after another," he kicked at the floor.

Max gave his friend a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Hey, look, since you're in town we-,"

"Max," P.J. caught his arm and pulled him closer, "Look." he pointed over at a time clock.

Stacey — slim and complete with floral-print scrubs — turned with her card in hand.

When she saw her former classmates by the entranceway she froze.

Max looked at P.J., P.J. looked at Max and when the hired of the pair turned back around he had a determined look in his eye. Twelve years and nine months had passed since the last time all three had been in the same room, and now, at long last, Max had found a lead.

To be continued…

~ Lavenderpaw ~