chapter ix

For the whole class, Philbert couldn’t stop checking his phone for notifications. But nothing was happening.
Did he sound too desperate? Did Carl feel like he was asking him for money and some free travels? Did he just go back to working? Was his secretary hotter than Phil?
Philbert Beese’s head was full of conspiracies, but they all had the same basic concept: if Piggy was fatter, Carl wouldn’t ignore him like that.
As he looked around the class, he spoke a bit with some mates and it made the lesson more bearable. Berry, the guy from the snack machine, invited him to his party that weekend. It was Monday, so Phil felt it was okay to say yes and then bail some days before the event.
He wanted to go to New Orleans. Get rid of the hypnosis that made him feel so hurngry all the time. Phil couldn’t fuck up right now. He had the last lessons, the admission letters would come in in a few weeks.
He checked the flights. Three hours and half, a minimum of 250 bucks. For a second, he bet he could convince his parents to let him go if he faked to be interested in a university, but then he remembered that 1) it was too late for that excuse, and 2) his mum would probably come with him to make sure the university was valid.
His thinking process brought him to Scott’s cocky smile. Could he trick the rich guy to buy him a ticket, begging and swearing he would go there just to get dehypnotised?
Philbert didn’t have many options, he sat on the bus ride home while looking outside from the window. The bus was full of students making loud noises, but Phil’s head was even messier.
Nothing happens in a town like Cawilles, Indiana. Philbert Beese wondered if he felt so keen on messing his body up and become enormous just because he was experiencing something he was not used to: excitement for a new situation.
As the doors opened by the bus stop before Phil’s, his eyes met Peppermints’ entrance. Peppermints was the signature bakery of his town. A sign was hanging next to it: “Staff wanted”.
A job! Why didn’t he think about that earlier?
Philbert rushed outside of the bus before it was too late and walked in front of a small pastel-coloured wall covered by huge windows. Seeing all that food made him drool.
He walked in. A small bell allowed the lady at the counter to notice him, to turn her gaze toward him.
She was a middle-aged lady with saggy boobs and face as wrinkled as a Bloodhound. She wore a grass green apron full of flour. She had the typical expression of an affectionate grandmother, to which Philbert waited for nothing to smile at her.
“Can I help you, mister?” she asked gently.
“I want to apply for a job here.”
As he said it, Philbert felt almost powerful. There was something in his voice.... it's that tone that comes out of your lips when you know you're doing the right thing, when you realize you're going in the right direction.
The lady certainly didn't hide her surprise. Philbert hadn't recognized her, but Gertrude Rhodes was very aware of who that bony face with the 80s mullet belonged to. Life in small towns is often full of this kind of surprises.
Gertrude politely asked him to wait for her at the table at the back of the store while she finished serving the last customers before the lunch break.
As he heard the word “lunch”, Philbert felt insatiable once again. He told her he was also buying some pastries and Gertrude’s face exploded in excitement.
As he sat down at the table after placing his order, Phil looked at Gertrude with more attention. Something about her didn’t seem new at all, but at the same time, she was looking like the average old lady who bakes, so he didn’t think much of it.
He grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and went on Pigler. By looking at Carl's icon and the green dot on the lower right corner, he felt ignored and empowered at the same time.
"I'm coming to you," he would have liked to text him. He decided not to do anything, though, to focus on himself and (maybe) his first job. He looked up at Gertrude as she was giving a sack of pastries to a kid. When she noticed his gaze, she smiled calmly.