Page 10 of Mika's Heart

Mika

I’ve walked through town for hours but everywhere that I’ve stopped to inquire about a job will want my social security number and everything.

Having fake documents to buy a plane ticket is one thing. Having fake documents on file with the internal revenue service is completely different.

Deciding that I should head back to the hotel soon, I look around at where I’m at and realize that I’m now on a street I’ve yet to walk down.

Deciding it can’t hurt to go just a little further, I take a right on the street.

As a car passes, I look over and spot a little shop on the left with a sign that says Poison Pen.

It looks to be a tattoo shop but what has my attention is the sign in the window advertising for an apprentice with artistic talents in drawing.

Crossing the street, I read all the requirements on the sign.

Must be good at drawing.

Must take directions well.

Must not be a dick.

That last one has me chuckling to myself.

I love to draw. I’ve done it my entire life. It’s actually something that I learned a long time ago that calms my nerves.

However, I wouldn’t call myself an artist.

Thinking that it may not be for me, I turn to go when I hear someone at the entrance.

“Hi! I saw you looking at the sign. Are you looking for a job?”

Looking up I see a woman close to my age with a friendly smile that has several tattoos covering her arms.

“Oh, I’m not sure I’d be a good fit.” I answer honestly.

She looks me over carefully before answering.

“Can you draw?” She asks.

“Yeah. I’ve been drawing since I was little. My best friend Jan swears I’m amazing at it but I’ve never really shown it to anyone else.” I start to feel a little nervous.

“Why don’t you come in and draw something for me? Kind of like an audition.” She smiles, opening the door wider.

“Um. Can I ask first how it pays?”

My question has her brows drawing together so I hurriedly say, “I don’t have my social security card or anything with me. It could take a while for it to get here.”

“That’s not a problem. You’d be paid in cash here and get a 1099 at the end of the year so you can file your taxes.”

Smiling at the relief that I feel, I walk inside with her.

“My name is Arin by the way and this is my shop. We’ve not been open very long but long enough that I need some help around here.”

She walks over to a desk, picking up a drawing pad and pencils, handing them to me.

“My name is Mika.” I introduce myself. “What should I draw?” I ask.

“Whatever comes to mind. It’s best if you draw something from your own heart.”