This is the promised follow-up to Monday’s post.
Well, so much for routine.
When the staffing agency was telling me about this job they said it would be from 7:00 am to 10:00 am, then from 1:00 pm to 4:00 pm. (I’m riding a school bus (well, van) with a special needs child.)
Great! I thought. Three hours in between to work on writing or whatever.
Ha! It’s more like from 7:30 am to 4:30 pm with an hour from 11:00 to noon which turns out to be more like half an hour sometimes. (It’s a three hour round trip twice a day, plus time to unload and load the kids. And that doesn’t take into account traffic and road construction.)
My first day was Tuesday and I was pretty wiped out. I hadn’t slept well Monday night, and Tuesday was rainy and grey and dull and it was almost impossible to stay awake. I was also getting moderately car sick, which didn’t help.
So, nothing got done on Tuesday other than survival.
Wednesday was better. I slept well Tuesday night so I was able to use my down time (“lunch” and waiting for the kids to get out of school) to work on… not writing exactly (as in, I didn’t write any sentences for a novel) but I did start on some character sketches that I need for Soraine’s crew. Only one of the three has a name so far (well, maybe two – I think I named one in the last attempt at writing this scene) but they all had descriptions by the end of the day.
Thursday was not so good.
The kid was getting a little out of hand and being a distraction to the bus driver. When I tried to get him to stop he hit me in the face, then bit my arm. (Fortunately I was wearing a hoodie so all I have is a bruise.) By the time all was said and done I’d been hit in the face three times, head-butted in the upper arm I don’t know how many times, and warded off a couple more bite attempts. I think I got kicked somewhere too but he’d taken his shoes off so that’s no biggie.
But on a more productive note, I rewrote my notes for Soraine’s crew, enhanced their descriptions, and actually gave another one a name.
And that brings us to today.
Today started out well. I actually wrote some real words. The kind that go in a novel.
Then the van arrived and my work day began, and about an hour later I got hit in the face again.
So I called the agency to tell them what had happened and that I was sorry, but I was done. They agreed that I shouldn’t have to deal with the abuse and would take me off the assignment after today’s shift.
Then they called me back with another question: “Where was the monitor?”
Me: “What monitor?”
Apparently there was supposed to be a monitor/aide on the bus to deal with the behaviors and I was only there for medical emergencies.
After much back and forth and at the very last minute they got an aide to start on Monday so I’m not unemployed at all.
We’ll see. This whole thing has been a SNAFU heading for FUBAR since it started and I’m seriously out of patience.
So, I’m still trying to find my routine, but I did get some progress made.
And as promised, here it is. (Please keep in mind that this is a rough draft.)
(This is part of an added scene for Onyx Sun. Taliya and Ayess have responded to a distress call and have rescued the crew of the StarFire, captained by Soraine, who will be getting a spin-off eventually.)
Soraine was tall and busty and flamboyant – everything that Taliya wasn’t – but there was genuine relief and gratitude in her eyes.
“Captain,” she said, extending her hand. “Thank you for the rescue. I was beginning to lose hope.”
“I’m glad we were in range,” Taliya replied, accepting her handshake. “You are a bit far out from the normal shipping lanes.”
“Yeah, well…” Soraine shrugged, a glint of mischief in her eyes. She turned to the three people behind her. “Allow me to introduce my crew.”
Taliya suppressed a smile as Soraine avoided the issue of her ship’s coordinates.
“This is Olleen Osten, my engineer.”
Olleen was a short thin man with fine blond hair plastered to his scalp. He wore a form fitting heavy shirt with another looser heavy shirt over it. Round green eyes darted in constant movement and seemed to be looking in different directions at the same time.
“Welcome.” She extended a hand but he ignored it, giving her nothing more than a quick nod, and it was only a lifetime of training that kept her from frowning.
“Chelu Sulov, my navigator.”
Chelu was tall and slender, her head and shoulders covered with long fleshy protrusions that stirred and shifted slightly around her. It was the protrusions that had earned her species the name Medusens from the humans who had first made contact with them.
“Welcome aboard. We may have the ship a bit too cool and low-lit for Fidian comfort, but feel free to adjust the climate in your cabin to whatever you would like.”
Slitted eyes registered surprise as she accepted Taliya’s proffered hand.
“Thank you.” The warm voice carried an inflection that said she was grateful not just for the welcome but also for the courtesy of using the proper name for her race.
“And this is my first officer,” Soraine said. “Dektlan Arigral.”
Dektlan was tall and burly, with a wide mouth and leathery skin. He was completely hairless and his upper body was covered with geometric tattoos.
Taliya’s gaze traveled over the markings and she smiled and interlocked her fingers in front of her and bowed slightly. “Mahishi.”
He started and withdrew the hand he had extended, interlocking his fingers and bowing. “Sho-mah. Mahasho.” He tilted his head curiously as he straightened, and Taliya smiled.
“I had a friend who was a Desrath. I spent a lot of time with him and his family and learned their – your – customs. And enough of the language to probably not get myself executed. And this,” she added, pulling the collar of her shirt to the side to reveal a geometric tattoo.
Taliya took a deep breath. “There was a fire. Arson. They – and a lot of other good people – did not survive.”
His eyes closed briefly. “I knew that house. They were honorable people.”
“The youngest boy survived. I’ve been trying to find a sponsor so he could return to your home world and be raised in your culture, but…”
“But my people are suspicious of the motives of outsiders, especially humans.”
“My family will sponsor him. We’ll make arrangements when we are back at our home port.”