Page 20 of A Better World

“That’s always the first year. It’s trial by fire,” he said.

“Is it because there’s only a limited number of golden tickets—we’re competition?”

“Partly,” he said. “It’s also the culture. People have behaved this way for so long that they don’t know why they’re doing it. It’s detached from any credible, original reason.”

“Thank you,” she said. “It’s nice to hear a straightforward answer. Jack Lust and Zach Greene both framed the first year as a kind of gauntlet. Is there something specific, a real test of some kind?”

“Just the annual reviews,” he said. “People here won’t want to accept you. You’ll have to find some task to fulfill that makes you impossible to replace. That’s the test. Perhaps you’ve found that task already. It sounds as if your husband is essential.”

She noticed that the skin along his lips and under his eyes was flaky and dry. Bad diet, possibly. With a sick spouse, probably no one was reminding him to take care of himself.

“Do people sabotage new employees to keep them out?”

He raised his white brows, making his eyes seem wide. “I’ve made it clear that kind of thing isn’t acceptable in my department, but I suppose it happens.”

“Any tips? It’s happening to my husband and I’m a little worried.”

Chernin shrugged. “Everyone finds their own path. If you stay, that’s the right thing and if you leave, that’s the right thing, too.”

“I’d prefer we stayed. Do you think there might be more shifts available for me? I was thinking that if I had five days, then I’d be tenure track.”

His eyes remained distant. “The shift you got was controversial. I took it from one of our senior attendings. It’s going to slow his own tenure. He’s not happy.”

“Thanks for the one I have, then. I’m grateful. Please don’t take it back.”

He made somber prayer hands at her, and she thought it might have been an unconscious tic, an automatic response to her use of the wordgrateful.

“I heard about a free medical clinic around here. I sent them my résumé but I never heard anything. Do you know anyone involved? Is there any way I could get an introduction?”

“ActHollow? That’s not for you. The people involved are very high rollers,” Chernin said.

“I can handle high rollers.”

“We all think we’re in a rush but it’s never true. This will reveal itself. People reveal themselves. Then you’ll make your decisions in the light.”

“So, what can I do? How can I help my family?”

“Wait,” he said. “There’s nothing else.”

They ran out of plots, tried to invent new ones.

Events that occurred over the rest of the week: that night, Russellbrought home the recommended bird jerky treat for Sunny from Parson’s Market. “Is that jerkyforbirds or jerky madeout ofbirds?” Linda asked.

Russell turned the wrapper over, to the illustration of a happy cartoon caladrius with an unrealistically clean ass. The power of advertising! The print was too small to read without his glasses.

“Both,” Hip said. “They can eat anything, including their own kind. The jerky’s made of caladrius and it’s caladrius food. It’s food safe for people, too. I read it in the PV husbandry manual.”

Linda made a gag face.

“Cannibal birds!” Josie hooted.

Tuesday, Hip’s lunch got smashed. He’d been getting napkins while Josie had been stuck on a long cafeteria line. They came back to find a fist print in his soy salad sandwich. They explained what had happened to the lunch lady but were told that every student received only one lunch, no exceptions. What happened after that was their own problem.

“They said what?” Linda asked.

“The cafeteria people don’t like us,” Hip said. “I don’t think any dayworkers like us.”

“It’s the small pleasures in life,” Josie added. “Like forcing some rich, company-town kid to go hungry.”

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