The classifieds? I have a better idea.

[smudging]

Who: Noah Czerny + literally anyone and everyone.
Where: Wayward Pines Library + who knows where else!
When: Shortly before Valentines ( and until the librarian tidys the bulletin board. )
What: Your friendly neighborhood ghost thing teenager is looking for work.
Warnings: None at the moment. Throw them in the subject line if you got 'em.

Open to everyone! If you wanna discuss things, find me at unnideul



[ He's not only running dangerously low on household supplies, but Noah is running dangerously low on cash, too. Usually it's his parents who go about making sure the place is fully stocked, but they've left on another business trip (he doesn't even remember seeing them return, come to think about it...) and Noah's already burned through whatever money was in his wallet.

So, there's only one option left for him.

With his skateboard on the floor next to him -- and the librarian gives him a hard glare at that action, as though Noah intention is to use the place as his own personal skatepark -- he stands in front of a small community bulletin board, rearranging a few items on it so that he could fit his own. A piece of paper with words scribbled in the largest and neatest handwriting Noah could manage:

LOOKING FOR WORK
WILL DO ANYTHING:
- HOUSEWORK
- YARDWORK
- ERRANDS
- ANYTHING!

CONTACT NOAH CZERNY

and included is his home telephone number. ]

Comments

[theophilia]

[Gone are the days of hand-sized cell phones--or else they have not yet come into being. Whatever. It doesn't matter. The point is, when Pucci comes across the sign tacked up in the library, he thinks wistfully of the days when he could've tucked a cell phone into his lapel pocket and pulls out a crappy ballpoint pen to write down the digits.]

[Later, once he's firmly ensconced in his own home again, he calls the number and leaves a message.]

Hello. This is Father Pucci [no further explanation needed Obviously] calling for Noah Czerny [which he pronounces impeccably Obviously] regarding your flier. Despite its lack of professionalism. You're probably a teenager. You do know that child labor is illegal, don't you? Ha ha. [Ha.]

If you're any good at general organization, I could use your help. The chapel is a mess since I g-- [He squints at the wall, pausing.] Lately. Again, this is Father Pucci. I can be reached at [a bunch of numbers].

[smudging]

[ Noah's sure that one of the rules is he's supposed to always answer the phone when it rings. But, as a 17 years old and without much else to do at the end of the school day, there's only two options for Noah Czerny; sleep or skateboard.

And seeing as he's slept already that afternoon, when the telephone rings sometime later in the day, it simply echoes loudly through the empty house until the answering machine picks up -- unsurprisingly, it's Noah's voice recorded as the greeting.

He has to listen to the message a few times to get all the details correct, and then a few more times after that just to double check that he's written down the correct phone number before dialing. The line rings a few times in his ear and when someone picks up, Noah immediately jumps into introducing himself.

He truly does have all the professionalism of a teenager. ]

Hello, Father... [ There's a pause and he's clearly making sure he's got the correct name before he says it. ] Pucci. This is Noah Czerny, you left me a message earlier? You need someone to organize and stuff..?

[theophilia]

[Oh. Right. He'd nearly forgotten he asked for this help. Admittedly, that's probably not his fault. Their brains are all scrambled. Still, it catches him off guard when he first picks up the phone.]

Hm? Oh.

[Yes. An amazing start. He frowns sharply at nothing, nods at nothing.]

Everything needs to be organized, yes. And cleaned. The whole chapel is a mess. I hope you're ready for a long-term project.

[smudging]

[ Cleaning the church wasn't Noah's ideal way to spend his afternoons, but work was work and at the moment he had very few other alternatives. (He had absolutely no other alternatives.) ]

Yeah, of course. [ Noah pauses long enough to nod his head. ] I have school during the day, though. Like you said, teenager and all that. [ He snorts in laughter -- such professionalism, really. ]

[theophilia]

[Is School A Joke To You Young Man no Pucci actually doesn't care at all. Maybe he'll pretend to later. But honestly, it's unlikely.]

Well, whatever time you have is acceptable. I'll make a list, but first and foremost you'll be going through Bibles and separating out the damages ones, then counting them so I know how many to reorder.

[A beat. He sighs.]

If you need . . . refreshments or something. The chapel can probably provide that. [Children eat, right?]

[smudging]

[ Separating Bibles? Noah's immediately regretting this decision. Maybe he shouldn't have included that last 'Anything!' on his flyer.

(What was he expecting, though? Fighting off demons and helping with exorcisms? Get it together, Noah.) ]

Yeah, that's sounds... easy enough. [ He's really trying not to let the disdain in his voice show, but it comes out in the form of a sigh that's pointed away from the receiver. Hopefully unheard. ]

Okay. Yeah. [ There's a pause and some quiet rustling as Noah scribbles down a few things on a mostly unused piece of paper. History notes. Nothing important. ] I'll come by after school tomorrow, if that's okay? You don't have... service or something, right?

[ He doesn't know all the technical terms for this stuff. He's not exactly an avid churchgoer. ]