Odyssey of the City of Lights - Book 1 - Chapter 15

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We arrived at the warehouse for my first day of work a bit earlier than Aaron needed to get on his route. He led me to the warehouse space before heading for his truck and starting his route.

I sighed and walked through the loading bay, looking around for something to tell me where to start working.

"Miller," called the grumpy boss, leaning against a stack of crates nearby, fingering through a data pad. I walked over, holding my hands together in front of me. His eyes held a mix of scrutiny and expectation as he studied me. "Aaron has a short schedule today. If he hustles he'll be done just after lunch. I'm assuming you want his help with banking and whatnot?"

I nodded, wondering how he knew, and he continued, "If you can handle today's load on your own, under Rocket's supervision, you can kick off early. Sound good?"

"Yes, Sir. I'll get it done," I replied firmly. He grunted in response, and I turned and walked off to find Rocket.

"Hey, Eli," Rocket greeted me as I rounded a corner, giving me a startle and a smile playing on his lips.

Steadying my breath, I said, "Hey man. You are sneaky."

He laughed "Yeah people tell me that. Boss told me your my shadow for the day. Ready to work?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Put me to work."

He looked at me and blinked in confusion. "How are you going to get the instructions." He pointed to his AR glasses.

I blinked. "Um, I'm not sure; is that mandatory?"

Rocket shook his head. "No, but you really should consider getting AR glasses. They're a game changer for work. Everything you need is right there in front of your eyes, and the Logistics AI can guide you directly to the parcels."

"Are they expensive?" I frowned, thinking of my limited funds.

Rocket chuckled, "They are, but they last. You buy them once, maybe every several years." He laughed again, "Unless you're clumsy after a night out, stumble, and land face-first into the pavement or wall or car." He pointed to his crooked nose and scars around his eyes and cheeks.

I suppressed a nervous laugh and nodded. I felt bad laughing at his pain, but it slipped out.

He sighed and led me to a room by the side of the loading bay. "For today, I guess you are using the handheld." On a book shelf was a stack of data pads. He took one and turned to me, holding it out for me. "Here, type your name in, and follow the directions on this. It'll help you get through the day." I took the device from him, staring at it blankly for a few seconds. When I looked up, Rocket had disappeared.

I stepped out of the room and looked around. "Rocket?" I called out, scanning the warehouse for any sign of my coworker and guide. I felt like a fish out of water with this handheld device, completely clueless about what to do next.

"Over here, Eli!" Rocket's voice came from two rows down. I hurried over and found him efficiently scanning parcels and moving them onto nearby lifts.

"Got a bit lost there," I admitted sheepishly. "I didn't even figure out how to turn it on."

Rocket chuckled and shook his head, not missing a beat. He took the device from my hands and showed me the side button. "It's pretty straightforward, Eli. Just follow the prompts and directions it gives you. The side button is there, and it turns on. The screen is a touch screen. The voice-activated is shit, so don't bother. When you find your package, scan it. When you drop it off at the color-coded square, scan it. Rinse and repeat. How do I spell your last name?"

I spelled it, and he pointed the screen towards me. On the screen were the first instructions with an arrow on the edge of where to go. Rocket demonstrated a few swipes and taps before handing the device to me. "I'll be working on the parallel truck, so if you need anything, just holler."

"Thanks, Rocket," I said, feeling a little more confident now that I knew what I was doing.

With a newfound determination, I hustled to the first location indicated on the handheld device. I picked up the parcel and loaded it onto my lift, but then it took me what felt like forever to open the next instruction. I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment as I fumbled with the device.

"Come on, Eli, focus," I muttered under my breath, forcing myself to concentrate.

As I moved from one location to another within the warehouse, guided by the handheld device, I took more time fiddling with it than actually doing the job. This allowed Rocket to always be a bit ahead, but I managed to catch up each time, thanks to my height and strength. Being taller made reaching items on higher shelves a breeze, and my physical strength let me lift and maneuver parcels onto the lift effortlessly. Even stuff Rocket would walk over to the metal muscle for.

"Nice work," Rocket called over his shoulder when I reached my color square just behind him. "You're getting the hang of it."

"Thanks," I replied. I didn't feel like I got the hang of it. I just felt stressed and disoriented. After unloading the pallet, I picked up a new one and hurried after Rocket. I didn't know how, but I was getting my work done.

After a few hours, I found myself growing more accustomed to the handheld device and the rhythm of the work. My fingers tapped and swiped with increasing confidence, efficiency, and speed, and my movements became fluid and precise.

"Hey, Eli, slow down a bit, will ya?" Rocket teased as he caught up to me during one of my drop offs. "You're making us all look bad."

I chuckled, feeling a flush of pride and embracement. "Can't help it if I'm a fast learner."

As Rocket laughed along with me, I noticed a few disapproving glances from other coworkers. Their eyes seemed to bore into me. I shrugged it off, focusing on my job. I didn't do anything bad. I'm going to be nice but focus on myself.

Lunchtime rolled around, and I was surprised to find that I had actually outpaced Rocket. He invited me to join him for lunch, but I declined. I still didn't have any money, and I didn't want to impose on his generosity any further. Instead, I found a quiet spot on the loading docks.

Unzipping my backpack, I pulled out the lunch bag my mom had packed for me. It was the last bit of food she had prepared before I left home, and the sight of it brought a wave of homesickness crashing over me. I missed her cooking, the warmth of her hugs, and the familiar rhythm of life on the farm. But I had chosen to stay in the big city in search of something greater.

As I bit into my sandwich, savoring the taste of home, I wondered how long I was going to stick around the big city.

After lunch, I found myself in a groove, the rhythmic movements becoming second nature as I moved from pallet to pallet. My pace was steady and focused.

"Miller, give me a progress report," grumbled my grumpy boss, materializing suddenly at my side. He didn't bother with any pleasantries, his face stern and expectant. Hesitating for a moment, I handed over the handheld device, unsure of his reaction. To my surprise, his eyebrows shot up in shock as he looked at my progress.

"You've done more than enough for the day," he declared, visibly impressed.

Rocket, overhearing the conversation, approached us with a grin. "Eli, with your speed and strength, you should consider getting your license for the driving jobs."

The grumpy boss smirked and added, "Might as well fire everyone else and keep you with a bonus in the warehouse."

I could feel smoldering glares from every corner of the warehouse boring into me. A mix of anxiety and fear bubbled in my chest, and I quickly interjected, "Sir, I appreciate the compliment, but I don't plan on staying here forever. It wouldn't be fair to you to make such changes based on my temporary presence."

He nodded, understanding my point. "Pity. But fair enough. You are good enough to be done for the day. I'll have to give you some per-piece bonuses since you are still on probation...overachiever..." His scowl returned, clearly annoyed by something again.

"Thank you, sir," I replied, trying to suppress the relief and pride swelling in my chest.

I bid farewell to Rocket, put back my data pad, gathered my things, and headed to the other warehouse to wait for Aaron. As I leaned against a cold steel beam, I pulled out the phone and datalink Aaron's dad had given me, eager to explore the Indian and Arabic myths Mason had mentioned for our project.

"Let's see what we've got here," I muttered, my fingers clumsily dancing across the screen as I navigated through various stories and illustrations. My anticipation grew as I imagined how incredible these myths would be when brought to life in the virtual world.

The depth of these myths was astonishing – their narratives were rich with complexity and wonder. As I delved deeper into tales of gods, heroes, and mystical creatures, each story vividly brought to life through intricate illustrations, I suddenly questioned why such global myths were never part of the curriculum in Old World schools. We were limited to a narrow perspective and kept away from these diverse and rich cultural stories.

"Is this what they wanted?" I murmured, feeling unsettled as I pondered the control exerted by the Old Worlders over our education and knowledge. A sense of unease washed over me, making me consider the true nature of the world I had grown up in and the possibilities that lay in the world I was beginning to explore.

"Hey, Eli!" Aaron's voice snapped me back to the present, "How'd your first day go?"

"Ah!" Startled, I jumped, nearly dropping the phone and datalink. Quickly pocketing them, I turned to him. "Not too bad. Harder than I expected, but it's nothing compared to farm work," I admitted.

Aaron's laughter echoed in the quiet garage. "Sounds like you held your own." I nodded, grateful for his reassurance.

As we climbed into Aaron's car, I said, "If you're done for the day, can you help me with the bank? And set up a way for me to pay for things?"

"Sure thing," Aaron replied, massaging his non-prosthetic leg. "We'll swing by home first, then I'll show you the ropes of public transit, stop by the bank, and go food shopping. We're running out of leftovers from my mom's kitchen." I joined his laughter as we pulled out of the garage.

As Aaron navigated the car through the bustling streets, I felt a newfound excitement about our art project. The vibrant cityscape outside my window seemed to mirror the vivid images swirling in my mind, inspired by the mythologies I had discovered.

"Hey, Aaron," I began, eager to share my ideas. "What if we create a narrative using the hero's journey template? We could draw from various myths and weave them into a short story of around 15,000 words. And then it can be integrated into the project for the next competition."

Aaron's face lit up as he glanced over at me, his eyes wide with enthusiasm. "See? I knew you'd find your footing in this," he said, his voice warm and encouraging. "I'll tell Mason and Amelia you have ideas, and we can all sit down to discuss it further. Just write up your thoughts, and I'll help you flesh them out with some visuals."

"Thank you," I replied, feeling a surge of creative energy coursing through me. Aaron's support meant the world to me, and together, we could bring this vision to life.

We pulled up to the apartment, and Aaron quickly checked his clock. "We should grab your document packet and head to the bank. We need full banking services, not after hours." I nodded, not understanding the urgency, but hurried inside to grab the necessary documents.

Back on the streets, Aaron led me across the street to the building with the food court. I was confused as I followed through the food court building, eventually stopping at an escalator that took us to a floor lined with offices. We came to a halt in front of the Tri-Star District Credit Union, and Aaron said, "This is the bank or credit union I guess I use. They have cheap rates and good service and have a ton of perks in this region. I can't go in with you since you aren't a minor."

My heart sank at the realization that I would have to face this new challenge alone, "Wait, wait. wait! what? How come?!"

Aaron just looked at me and smirked.

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