Why Should I Be a Magical Girl? I'm Overworked As It Is! — Chapter 9: Back to Work

Back at Max’s Burgers, the rush hadn’t subsided. Where the park square had monsters and screaming, the dining room had backed-up order screens, a missing fry cook, and Marvin.

“No excuses, people!” Marvin barked, stationed in the fryer zone turning off timers and lifting large baskets of fries and nuggets. “Monster attack or not, those burgers aren’t going to flip themselves!”

Maya spotted Carmen the second she walked in through the employee entrance and beelined for her.

“Carmen. Carmen.” She took Carmen by the shoulders. “What happened out there? And why,” she said, holding up an accusing finger, “do you have Weed-B-Gone?”

“I think I just picked up a third job,” Carmen said.

“Are you working at the gardening store now too?! Are you quitting?!” She leaned in and whispered, “Do you get discounts?”

“What? No! I’m not quitting or working at the gardening store.”

“Did some fancy old lady hire you to work on her yard?”

“No, that’s not—”

Maya frowned, “What kind of job involves weed killer?”

“I picked this up for… myself,” Carmen said, lamely.

“But Carmen,” Maya said, “You don’t have a garden—wait. What is that?”

Carmen panics when Maya glances down, because Shuli is sitting there grooming herself.

“Did you get a cat?”

Shuli froze mid-lick, eyes wide.

Carmen sputtered, “You can see her?!”

“Oh, it’s a she? Well, yeah. I have eyes you know. She’s all over the bottom of your pants. You should get a lint roller. Marvin won’t be happy if he sees all that cat fur.”

Maya pointed at Carmen’s pant leg, where Shuli had pawed at her on the bench.

“I didn’t get a cat! She hangs around my apartment building and I don’t know how to get rid of her.”

“Awww that’s so sweet. The cat distribution system chose you!”

Shuli chimed in and said, “I like her.”

“CARMEN! MAYA! Get back to work!” Marvin’s voice made both girls jump. “And Maya, change out those gloves. Don’t think I didn’t see you touch Carmen.”

“Let’s talk later, Carmen.” Maya grimaced and hurried back to her station, peeling off her gloves.

Carmen sighed and entered her employee code into the computer to clock out of her break and back into work.

“That was close. For a second there, I thought she could see me.” Shuli jumped onto a closed ketchup packet box and bread loafed.

“Aren’t you going to leave?!” Carmen hissed under her breath.

Shuli yawned, “I think I’ll take a nap here. This box is nice.”

Carmen glared at her. She went to the break room to stash the overpriced jug and grabbed a headset off the charger.

The day’s extraordinary events folded into the background, like they happened a year ago.

Carmen went on with her day.

A few hours later, Carmen was in the middle of restocking when Shuli, still in loaf position, but with eyes closed, flicked her ear.

******

People in biohazard suits were walking around testing the soil. They’d reviewed the footage caught from the stores and discovered that the monster had originated from the park grass, so that was their focus.

Numbered flags stuck into the dirt like a crime scene. Debris was littered everywhere. The clean up crew wouldn’t arrive until the morning. Cars that could be salvaged were cleared out. The entire park had been cordoned off with caution tape.

After the red suits cleared the main area, the dandelion monster came back up from the soil, in a succulent garden flower bed not too far off from where the bisected statue lay. It looked nothing like the monster that had thrown cars and roared loud enough to rattle glass. The weed was withered and dainty. Its petals curled inward, as if hiding.

******

Shuli’s nose twitched and her eyes opened. “Carmen,” she said. “I sense it. I don’t think it’s gone.”

“And that’s a problem for who, exactly?” Carmen said, shooing Shuli off the box so she could get ketchup packets for the drive-thru sauce tray. “I told you we should have gotten the regular weed killer. It would have gotten the job done. But nooooo. You just had to make me get the organic, didn’t you?”

Shuli puffed up and said, “It worked.”

“But it didn’t get the job done.”

“I told you, it’s better—”

“Besides,” Carmen cut in, “it’s out of my life now. No dandelion, no need for a wand. It’s someone else’s problem now. Circle of life. Yada, yada. The end.”

Carmen threw a bunch of packets into the tray and walked back to the window. She checked what she was low on. She needed to get more barbecue, honey mustard, and ranch sauce.

The ketchup, mayo, and mustard packs were always kept in the front, while the other sauces were stored with the buns in the dry storage. She’d have to go to the back to get the boxes and bring them up.

Carmen made her way there.

Shuli followed her, “You’ve been chosen to help.”

Carmen grumbled, “I’ve got my own personal issues to deal with.”

The boxes she needed were stacked annoyingly behind the unpopular nasty sauces. Carmen moved them out of the way, taking a box cutter.

“This is more important than restocking sauces.”

“So is my rent, and nobody’s helping me with that either.”

Carmen stabbed the box. The blade was dull. She didn’t want to replace it. That would require more work. Instead, she forced it through the tape, channeled her inner rage and sawed away from her body. 

Shuli was frustrated, but didn’t push further. She hadn’t known Carmen for long, but she knew this at least: there was no talking to Carmen while she was in work mode, especially after dealing with that long drive-thru line. 

Carmen stacked the three boxes, so she could carry them all in one go instead of taking multiple trips.

By the time Carmen hauled the sauces up front, her arms ached. This time, it had nothing to do with monsters, and everything to do with minimum wage.