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Upload Christmas

By Cindy M. Amos

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An invisible draw compelled Etsy Barber toward the edifice of her favorite hangout, the Craft Raft hobby supply store. With August dwindling on the Kansas horizon, she guessed the time might be right to gain employment for the upcoming holidays. When the construction crew hung the company’s trademark orange lettering on the new building right behind her west Wichita apartment, the connection proved too fated to resist.
A poster by the entrance bore a hastily-drawn arrow pointing to an open door on the left end of the aging building. HIRING FAIR—the two words that meant the most to her right now—graced the bottom of the sign. Needing no further incentive, she redirected and soon stood in the open doorway.
A middle-aged woman wearing too much coppery eye shadow beckoned to her. “Hey there. Are you seeking employment?”
“Yes. I’ve come searching for any holiday openings you might have.”
“Let me offer you something much better—this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.” She motioned toward the sign-up table. “It won’t take you ten minutes to fill out the paperwork. Today, we’re hiring for the upload team. That’s the crew tasked to empty out this store one truckload at a time and get our merchandise relocated to our brand-spanking new facility over in West Market Square. We’re scheduling hours beginning next week because the grand opening date is October seventh. That’s when successful members of the upload team will be rewarded with seasonal cashier positions to carry us through the holiday rush. How does that sound?”
Etsy blinked away any secondary expectations. She needed a job, and next week the pay could start accruing. “I think that sounds amazing. Please help me sign up.”
“I thought you might say that,” the solicitor replied with a wink. “We’ve been waiting for talent like you to walk in. Come over to my table, and let’s get started.”
She filed past two older women who looked a bit frail for the lifting work ahead. Not willing to judge, she dug the pen from her purse and stared at the mass of papers on the table.
“Just complete this form, front and back. I’m Claire Horton in resource management, on loan from our headquarters in Oklahoma City. When you turn in the completed application, I’ll need to scan your driver’s license as part of our background check.”
“When will this old store close down so we can relocate the merchandise?”
“Oh, no. That’s part of our challenge with the upload. This store will operate as usual until eight o’clock Saturday, October fifth, and the new store will open Monday morning on the seventh. We won’t be closed at all.” A husky laugh punctuated her tall claim. “You’ll be amazed what can be accomplished when your upload team hits high gear.”
An ounce of dread alighted on her shoulders as she took a seat at the far back table.
One of the gray-haired women nodded as she passed. The other woman grimaced as she plucked numbers into a small calculator. At the threat of math, the room turned breathless.
On edge, Etsy scanned their paperwork and discovered a math worksheet that resembled a pop quiz. From nowhere, a long-held phobia clamped the base of her neck. First lifting every item in the store surprised her, and now a nasty math barrier stood between her and gainful employment. Better to start with the application, where she knew how to print her name. The only math she really needed to know was the moment her wages equaled her monthly rent. Any payment after that level might enable her to buy groceries and avoid starvation. Without handouts from the restaurant job she’d recently left, finding her daily bread soon would be a sober concern. Work to eat. Fundamental, yes, though the fun part might be questionable.
~
Trevor Miller stood behind the steel shelf evaluating the afternoon’s recruits. On loan from his successful store in Enid, Oklahoma, he’d agreed to oversee the hiring fair and hang around when the upload team started next week. So far, he’d witnessed a ragtag crew of senior citizens and off-the-street ruffians looking for easy work. The background check might eliminate certain nomads with questionable motivations. They’d already culled several young men who possessed neither a driver’s license nor any means of getting to the west side.
When the pretty woman at the far end of the table uncrossed her tanned legs, his scrutiny shifted in her direction. She looked the crafter type, with stylish blond streaks in her wavy brown hair and crystal earrings dangling from her earlobes. Maybe she’d been waylaid from her weekly supply stock-up by the job fair sign posted at the door, his last-minute addition. More proud of the hourly advertisements on the local radio station, he reaped welcome validation for those applicants indicating they’d heard about the job fair over the airwaves.
The candidate rose to her feet with a growl in her throat. “That’s it. I’m done for.”
He uncrossed his arms and stepped out of hiding. “Hey there. I’m sorry about that math test. The local manager wants to make sure his clerks are savvy about handling sales prices.”
Her eyebrows arched. “So you’re not local—and not responsible, I assume.”
“No. I’m Trevor Miller, assistant manager out of the Enid store. I promised to come up and help staff the job fair.” He animated his expression for her entertainment, since her amber-colored eyes proved the main perk of the afternoon. “It’s been a mile short of a total blast, I admit. Plus, it’s stifling over here in their storage warehouse.”
“Okay. I blame the heat build-up on my math aggravation. Glad to know someone else is commiserating at the same time.”
“So you’re on board for the upload? That means touching every item in the store, at least three times. I hope you know what you’re signing up for.”
She gave him a sheepish grin. “Well, I came in to register for a Christmas job as a cashier, but this upload detour will get me there. Plus, I could use the hours. The family restaurant I worked for closed down last month, so I’m off to find new adventures that pay.”
Glancing at her math sheet, he saw the bottom quarter had been left blank. After an ounce of managerial evaluation, he doubted she would make cashier level without further guidance. “Look, I want to help you succeed. We need a younger demographic on the team, and it appears you have lots of crafting savvy—which will be a perk for us. So here’s my tip. Sit back down and complete this math exercise. Those last questions simply pose scenarios where the weekly sale gives a certain percentage off. You can multiple those prices by the decimal form of the percent. Ten percent discount becomes point one zero, twenty-five off becomes point two five, and so on. Multiply the original price to find the savings. I’ll even bring you a calculator for checking your answers. Claire’s supposed to offer you a calculator, but I guess she decided to make you sweat it out first.”
She sat down with a plop, choking the math sheet in one hand. “Okay, you win. I’ll take these last five questions one at a time, and see if I can get the feel for taking discounts. I do this in my head all the time, so I should apply my mental math when it really counts.”
“That’s the spirit that leads to upload success.” He gave her a salute and turned toward the sign-in table as two elderly men entered the open door. “Welcome to the Craft Raft job fair, gentlemen. Come right this way and Claire will get you started on your paperwork.”
The taller man promptly followed. “I hope there’s some spatial challenge to this upload gig. We’re retired engineers and prefer to build things.”
“Sounds perfect,” Traver replied. “We’ve got a new four hundred thousand square-foot building with a hollow interior. Unless Santa’s elves show up early, those fixtures and shelves aren’t going to construct themselves. We’ll accept all the handyman prowess you can generate.”
“Great. My name’s Monte. Count me in. My sidekick is Cohen. He doesn’t talk much, but he wants in, for sure. Can we arrange for the two of us to share the same shift?”
“Absolutely. The entire crew will be on the same schedule for the first three weeks. The final week before the move, we’ll split the team into early and late shifts. Even working to midnight, it’s going to be a scream to get this merchandise relocation accomplished.”
“Well, considering I kept airplanes in the air for thirty-five years, I think I can handle the challenge of moving model kits and such.” A sneer added a few more wrinkles to Monte’s face.
He grabbed the calculator for the math-distressed candidate. “Look for me on Monday. I might drive you two over to the new location after our kickoff meeting. We’ve got to get started on those fixtures as soon as the delivery truck arrives.”
“That’s a deal struck in heaven. To tell the truth, I wasn’t too keen on juggling all your scented candles.” Monte reached for the paperwork and took the application from Claire.
She laughed at his disclaimer. “We can put you guys on relocating the feathers and beads aisle. That should keep you plenty busy.”
He popped a fist on the man’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about the frills. We always say let the glitter fall where it may because, in the craft industry, somebody’s always got to embellish—whether the final product needs any improvement or not. We want sturdy shelving under all that glimmer and shimmer, so you guys stick with me. I’m Trevor Miller, assistant manager for the upload.”
“See you Monday then, boss,” Monte replied with a gleam in his gray eyes.
He waited for an elderly woman to stand and clear the table before producing the calculator for his attractive applicant. Relieved to see most of her blanks now filled with numbers, he stroked his goatee and nodded. Turing, he had retraced several steps only to spy the gray-haired woman teeter toward the warehouse shelving as she missed a reach for her walker. Pulsed into action, he darted toward her to prevent the inevitable.
A metallic creak announced the stumble at first contact. Overburdened, the unit swayed and began to lean. Before he could reach for the woman’s bony arm to pull her away, the crafty candidate shot past him and grabbed the aged applicant’s waist. Desperate, he shoved the tilting shelves back toward vertical.
Lithe, she knelt as the senior deposited on the concrete floor, upright and intact. “Hi, there. I’m Etsy. Hope that didn’t hurt you much. I’m looking forward to working on the upload.”
“Thank you, honey. I’m Lorene. I appreciate you being a fast mover. Thought I could surely make it to the sign-in table without that old walker. Maybe I’ll switch to my cane on Monday when we start unpacking the store. I picked up after my husband for fifty years.”
Convinced the shelf had finished its protest, Trevor joined the women and offered the rescuer a hand up. “Hey, thanks for that quick diversion, Etsy. I’ll put a gold star on the corner of your application for a deed well-delivered.”
“You’re welcome. And maybe you could speak to the local manager and let him know math isn’t the end-all when hiring reliable helpers.” She squeezed a smile in place that transformed her amber eyes into radiant gold.
Mesmerized in the unexpected moment, he thawed a bit. “I’ll be most happy to follow up with your common sense request. Neal’s a nice guy and a reasonable boss. And I agree, we should be more concerned with a balanced upload team right now, anyway.”
Lorene chuckled. “Speaking of balanced, could you two put me back on my feet again?”
He took one arm in his grip and waited for the quick responder to take the other. “Lift on three. One, two, and three.” He grunted for some added showmanship to help make light of the awkward situation. Once the woman stood on her own, he offered a fist to his accomplice.
The pretty candidate bumped her knuckles against his. “Yay for solid teamwork.”
“And so it begins,” he replied with drama, bending at the waist.
“Say, Trevor,” Monte called from the next table. “Come over here and read us this fine print. I want to know what I’m signing up for.”
For a hesitant moment, he reaped the admiring gleam in the rescuer’s eyes. “Excuse me then, ladies, as duty calls.” He held her gaze until he got the consenting nod he wanted.
As three more candidates walked through the doorway, he invested in his engineers-turned-builders so he could get a jump on filling the new building with fixtures. Improvement rode on the back of the clever and the strong. Next week, he’d be forced to play both roles. Gotta love a challenge. He peered at the application’s fine print, barely able to discern its meaning.

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