By the time he handed the clipboard back, it was five minutes past the interview’s scheduled time. The woman nodded and buzzed the intercom.
A tall Black man with a shaved head emerged from the office behind her. He looked young, maybe a few years older than David. A Pilot gleamed on his temple. “You’re David, of course—I’ve never had a celebrity in my office before. It’s an honor. Come in! Let’s chat.”
David shook Mr. Redding’s hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
They entered an office that breathed private endowment. The furniture was modern, all metal and glass and sharp angles, in contrast with the ivied outer walls. Redding gestured toward one of three orange chairs on the near side of the desk, then surprised David by sitting beside him, instead of behind his own desk. He had David’s clipboard in front of him and a tablet that displayed his résumé.
“So, David, is it strange to be back here?”
“A little,” David admitted. “I had to remind myself—” He was going to say that I was older than the students, but that sounded terrible in an interview. He finished with “—that it’s been a few years,” which sounded silly, but at least didn’t imply he couldn’t separate himself from the students he’d be protecting.
“I know the feeling,” said Redding. “I graduated a few years before you got here. They make it pretty easy to want to come back, I guess. I wasn’t famous like you, though. What piqued your interest in this position?”
“I wanted a new challenge.”
Redding raised an eyebrow.
David tried again. “I wanted a new challenge that didn’t involve selling something I’m not as enthusiastic about as I once was.”
“You were at BNL, I see. I wasn’t sure if you worked for them or just did their commercials.”
“Yeah. My position involved convincing people to get Pilots. They sent me everywhere: schools, hospitals, health fairs, prisons. I adapt well to new situations and meeting new people. I like being a friendly face.” He’d practiced ways to tie the two positions together. “And before that, I was in the military, so I’m comfortable in stressful and dangerous situations. I keep my head.”
There was a shout outside, and David turned toward the window.
“So what would you do in a situation where you found a—I’m sorry, I should have offered you something to drink. Do you need some water?”
David nodded, and the man crossed in front of him and left the room, returning a minute later with two mugs. The one for David had #1 teacher written on it and a cartoon cat. “Sorry for the mug; this is a coffee town. So, I was going to ask whether you have current CPR and first aid certification?”
“No, but I’ve taken them before and I can get them again. This weekend, if you want.” That hadn’t been the question he had started asking before he left the room, David was pretty sure.
“And why did you leave BNL?”
“I wanted to do something better reflecting my skill set. I’m not a salesperson.”
“What do you consider to be your skill set?”
“I’m a quick thinker. I’m good at being aware of my surroundings, and what should and shouldn’t be there. I’m good on a team. People trust me.”
“The familiar face probably helps with that.”
“Well, yes, sir, I guess, but even before that. Part of what I learned as a soldier was how to put people at ease, since my presence was by nature an intrusion in many situations.”
“And this is where your career has led you?” Something had changed around the time Redding had gone for water, but David couldn’t tell what it was. David thought he was still making a good case for the position, but Redding looked done.
“It was great to have you in, David. We’ll be in touch. Wait until I tell my wife you were here.”
It had been a bizarre interview. The one hypothetical question had been cut off midsentence, and after that, Redding hadn’t asked anything that felt applicable. What had caused him to go from enthusiastic to awkwardly uncomfortable?
It took a few days for David to realize. A few days, and three more interviews, all of which seemed oddly curt. It was his Pilot, or the lack thereof. Redding had been on the other side of him when he entered the office, and hadn’t seen that David didn’t have a Pilot until the noise outside had made him turn his head the other way. Then he’d gone for water to get a look at that side of David’s head and confirm it.
It was illegal to discriminate in a job interview because somebody didn’t have a Pilot, but how could you prove that was happening? They’d just say there was a more qualified candidate. The proof was right there on the side of your head, saying you were not as fast as you said you were, couldn’t possibly be, and even if you were, maybe something was wrong with you that you couldn’t have one.
It didn’t matter that his Pilot was still going strong, that his brain had adapted, that things were as chaotic as ever in his head. He had no light, so they didn’t think that was the case. They didn’t have to say it, or say anything; they simply wouldn’t call back. Not even at his alma mater, for a stupid security job he was overqualified for. He was screwed, and he’d brought it on himself.
CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
SOPHIE
It took Sophie longer than she cared to admit to realize her brother wasn’t living in the house anymore. She wasn’t unobservant, but it was easy to assume they were keeping different hours and missing each other; that had happened often enough. She didn’t exactly go out
