2019-06-14 - A Charm of Finches

Late spring in the Pacific Northwest can be quite lovely, even in Gray Harbor, and today is a stunning example. Largely, fluffy white clouds fill the blue sky, and the temperature's up to a comfortable low 60s. Branch & Bole is, accordingly, bustling with business, people on their way home from work grabbing things to plant in their gardens now that it's stopped raining for five minutes.

August is sitting in the small office in the back of the main shop building, going over paperwork on his tablet with an expression and aura which telegraph he could stand to have a large tree fall across a nearby road any minute now. Oh, could he ever. He likes being his own boss, but he really hates the tedious parts, such as paperwork, digital or otherwise. Ully, a twenty-something college grad, is manning the register, and Thomasina, an early thirties, self-described crazy animal lady, is helping out customers.

The door of Branch and Bole is pushed open, and a colorful young woman enters. She looks like she belongs in a video game, rather than a garden shop, with her pink hair, combat boots, and goggles perched atop her head for no apparent purpose. She's in a purple tee with a rainbow on it, black denim shorts, pink fishnet tights, and a light canvas jacket in olive drab. Slug across her body is a khaki round messenger bag with a pink star emblazoned on it. Maybe she's lost?

"Hey," she greets Ully, with a nod. "Is there someone here to talk to about maybe getting a job?" Her? Wut? Her expression is serious as a heart attack though. Thomasina, if she notices the arrival, might be able to place the odd duck as that one Celaeno family kid whose mother tried to off her some years back. Creepy old mansion that is starting to become a bit dilapidated, owned by old lady Dove, or Granny Dove as most call her. They may have done some dead tree removal for her in the past.

Ully smiles a greeting to Finch. He's all about the positive customer experience; this is how he pays for his summers out in the wilderness, working for businesses that need the extra help. He's tall and lanky, with curly blond hair, brown eyes, dusky skin, and freckles. Thomasina, short and stout, her wavey black hair graying early and her heart shape face sweet and soft, grits her teeth when she sees Finch, but before she can intervene, Ully says, "He's in back," and nods towards the back office. Through the window Finch can see August sitting in an old, oak, swivel office chair at an equally old and scarred office desk, hardwood as well. No IKEA furniture in this place.

Thomasina winces, decides to keep her opinions to herself. August will probably just say no, if the way he puts everyone off doesn't send the girl packing.

The door's got a big PRIVATE sign taped to the front, but it's also ajar.

Finch pushes her goggles a touch higher on her head as her eyes sweep around the store. When Ully indicates the office, she grunts once. "Right. Thanks." She heads for it, rapping her knuckles lightly on the door as she steps through it, not waiting to be given permission to come in. She really doesn't look like the sort that waits for anyone to give her permission.

"I need a job." Well that's pretty damn direct of her. She digs in her bag and pulls out a slightly creased sheet of paper to hand to him. A resume of sorts. She has an Associates Degree in Ecology, a Bachelor's Degree in Wildlife Biology, and is currently a grad student on sabbatical from Cornell working towards her Masters in Ornithology.

Thomasina watches Finch go, worry etched on her features. Ully is oblivious, checking folks out.

August is in the process of responding to the knock when Finch just comes right on in. And...oh yes, he's not just some guy who moved into town and opened a business a few years back. No indeed. This isn't just a small flicker, either. He's bright.

August glances up from his tablet with a light frown that deepens, maybe because he doesn't recognize her, but maybe also because he can sense the same thing about her. He squelches that reaction, seems to pretend it's not there. His eyes flit to the resume, studying it a second. The frown gives way to a milder expression: curiosity. He sits back in his chair, eyes her, clearly noting the goggles and choice of hair color.

"And what, exactly, drew you to us," he says, folding his arms.

The name on the resume is Finch Celaeno. Definitely familiar as there are a few of them in town, and Granny Dove needs tree work now and then. Finch gestures to the resume."Sabbatical is a nice way to say I ran out of funds for tuition but they'll hold my spot in the lab for a year to see if I can get back by then," she explains. "And nobody else is going to hire me. I mean maybe that video game store, but I don't know shit about video games." She gestures to her hair and outfit with a smirk.

"My thesis is going to be on the cooperative parenting habits of the Western Bluebird. I'm a lot more likely to be able to see nests when I'm up a tree than in a store. And I'd rather be outside than cooped up. I get enough of that at home." She shudders. Granny Dove's mansion is creepy sometimes. To his Glimmer sight, she shines brightly, and the slight squint she gives him might indicate she's noticed he does too.

August makes a low sound at her description of tuition woes. "Yeah, sucks when there's not some big industry backing your major, doesn't it," he says, scratching at his beard. He reaches out, taps her name. "Is that why you can't get hired," so he knows the name, and the various rumors which its saddled to, "or is it," his eyebrows go up, "something else." It's not the most subtle way of asking if she has a record, but at least he's not breaking the law by asking specifics.

Finch rolls her eyes to the ceiling and keeps them there as she sighs loudly. "Yeah yeah, the family whose ladies go crazy murderhobo on all the boys once every couple generations. That's us." She lowers her eyes again. "I was more or less talking about the pink hair and combat boots, but sure, we can go with the Harpy Curse being why no one will hire me." Smirk. Smartass.

"Well, it's true--easier to get hired looking like that in the Bay Area, or Portland." August's tone is dry as the deserts of his home state. He sighs, gives her another once over. "I don't care about some," he waves a hand, "curse, or whatever. That's your business, not someone else's. You show up for your shift on time, call in when you have to, get your work done, that's all we're asking."

Out in the store proper Thomasina is casting worried glances at them. August is studiously ignoring her. He glances out the winodw that looks onto the little grotto garden planted along-side the building. "Can you climb a tree?"

Wait, he might actually be open to hiring her? Finch looks momentarily surprised, but she covers it quickly, following his gaze out into the grotto. "I can climb a tree carrying thirty pounds of camera and note taking gear," she replies. "I had to install remote nest cams for the program at Cornell." She shrugs. She might look slight, but apparently she's nimble, or lying. She arches a brow at him. "Can you climb a tree?"

"I'm not the one being interviewed for a job, so it doesn't much matter if I can," August replies, his smile saccharine in the extreme. "That mean you can climb one without falling out? Not problems with heights or dizziness, anything that might be an issue if you're up sixty feet in the bucket? No shame in working here," he gestures at the garden shop, "got plenty of stuff outdoors that has to get done. Repotting, fertilizing, trimming all the stuff for sale." A pause, then he asks, "Do you know anything about plants?"

"You ever been to Mallard House?" Finch asks. The Celaeno family mansion, first built by Mallard Celaeno. An old Victorian style with towers and gables and domes. A monstrosity really. "I grew up in it, and on it. I used to scramble all over the roof to avoid my mother. Granny Dove says I was part monkey." She leans a hip against the front of his desk and folds her arms. "I also have good balance thanks to self defense classes. And I have an Associates in Ecology, we covered basic plant stuff in that."

"Basic, plant, stuff," August echoes. He doesn't sound impressed about that. (He might not be impressed by anything, though.) He does seem interested in the 'climbing around the house to avoid my mom' thing, though, if his raised eyebrow is any indication. He stares at her a while, immobile, like he's just another piece of furniture in the little office.

Then, "Alright." He leans down, pulls a packet of papers out of a drawer. "This is the particulars for new hires. Got starting pay--hourly, yes there's benefits, or you can waive medical and use the exchange if you rather, but I try to have something reasonable seeing as," he gestures at himself, "I'm old. State mandated sick leave's available as of your first day, PTO accural's listed in there. Overtime if you work past eight in a day and 40 in a week but it's not required, just there if you need the cash. No requirement to help on after hours or emergency calls, but that's an option for extra pay as well. Hazard pay applies any time the weather's bad or it's after dark. If you like what you see, fill it all out, bring it back tomorrow. We've got three appointments, would like to hit all of 'em. Be here at 7:30am, that's when we load up the trucks. Dress for climbing though only one of em's not in a good spot for a truck, so might not matter."

Finch listens to the explanation of benefits and generous rules of working and stares at August like he's grown a second head. Because all that stuff he just rattled off to her sounds way better than most jobs in a small town, or a big town, or any town really. She reaches for the papers and carefully tucks them into her bag with gentler treatment than her own resume received. "Seven-thirty, got it. I'm used to being up early." Of course she would be as an ornithologist. Observations require it.

She turns to go and pauses in the doorway to look back at him. "Thanks Mister, um, I didn't get your name. I appreciate it. See you in the morning." Well, that went much, much better than she'd expected.

"Roen," he says. "August Roen." He watches her go, eyes narrowing, then sighs and takes up his tablet again. Thomasina sees Finch walking out with the new employee packet and sighs to herself. Ully gives Finch a thumbs up of congratulations.