What It Takes | Teen Ink

What It Takes

November 29, 2011
By Kaki_Citrin BRONZE, Daphne, Alabama
Kaki_Citrin BRONZE, Daphne, Alabama
2 articles 0 photos 0 comments

George Thompson was nearly there. For 3 years he had worked the lowly job of a temp at a large furniture company, and he itched for his chance at regional manager. Being regional manager brought in much more money than being a temp, and George dreamed of the stacks of it he would sit on once he got the job. The one thing standing in his way was his boss, Mr. Botwitch. The other employees would snicker as they watched George follow the man around with wide eyes, searching for a way to please him. Mr. Botwitch never had a cold cup of coffee, an unorganized desk and wouldn’t even have to run non-work related errands for himself because George had already done them. The receptionist even swore she saw George carrying a basket full of Mr. Botwitch’s delicates one morning, which would come as no surprise. And as for Mr. Botwitch, he loved every second of his special treatment and milked it nonetheless. George wasn’t unaware of what he was doing and knowingly hated it, but his future was on his mind and it washed away all of the humiliation.

On a Monday morning, George finally got the news he had been dying to hear. Mr. Botwitch was retiring and he was looking for someone to take over his spot, and that someone was George. He tried to keep his composer, but it was as if fireworks were going off and a bottle of Champaign was spilling out all over his heart.

“Next week” the boss went on “I’m flying up to Boston to meet with the board to cover some nooks and crannies.

George listening inattentively. Although he saw his lips moving, all he could hear him say was “Money money money. I’m flying up to Boston and leaving you the money”

“I have a silly favor to ask” the boss went on. “My wife has a cat she loves more than me, and she would have a conniption if it didn’t get fed twice a day while we are gone. You’ll stop by my house and feed our cat, Angel, while were gone, wont you?”

George accepted graciously, for he knew this was the last favor, errand or task he would ever have to run for him.

The following Monday, George pulled down the long drive way and reached his bosses large white brick house. George whistled with amazement and vowed that when the money came in, he would buy large house too. He found the key under the mat, let himself in and spotted the small stack of fancy feast cans on the table and the litter box on the floor. He saw no cat. He called the cats name and moseyed into the kitchen, admiring their marble countertops more than searching for the cat. He took a quick look around the living room then headed up the stairs. The hallway was long and dark and there were many doors. George called his name again but heard no answer. Right when he was about to call it quits, he heard a loud purring coming from a cracked door. He swung the door open, and there, in the far corner of the closet, was a figure of the largest cat George had ever seen. Its purring grew louder, but it was too dark to see the cats face. George bent down to pick up the large feline, and the cat turned around and hissed and clawed at Georges hand, causing George to scream “Yoooowwww!” Once George had pulled back, the cat went for his legs, showing his teeth and extracting his claws. His hair was sticking up straight down his back. In a frenzy George retreated from the closet to the end of the hallway, but the cat was hot on his tail. The light revealed its fluffy white coat and sharp white teeth. The cat had him cornered, and Georges panted while the cat hissed and meowed wildly. Every move George made, the cat would hiss louder. He reasoned if he took a run for the stairs he could close the cat into the door. Panting, George look a run for it, but the cat screamed loudly and jumped on him, bringing him to the ground. George quickly jumped up, and felt the sharp pressure of something digging into his temples. He turned to the hallway mirror and saw Angel, with hair sticking straight up, attached to his head starring back at him. George was exhausted and knew he was not getting that cat off with his bare hands, so he began filling the cat bowl and cleaning the litter box with Angel still on his head. After his job was done, the cat jumped off and began nibbling at her food. George took one last look at the cat and couldn’t help but laugh.
“Last time” He murmured, and walked out the door.
6 months later, George was sitting in his new leather seat at his new, organized desk, sipping coffee prepared by his new temp. On the desk sat a large brown picture frame with the picture of a white cat in it. When the new temp asked why there was a picture of their old bosses cat on his desk, George just smiled and said, “Oh, just a reminder of what it took to get here. Say, wont you pick up my dry cleaning today?”


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