Life Designed (Life Plan Series Book 1), Eliza Taye [great novels .TXT] 📗

grinning and nodding. “All right, I guess you’re not as much of a fool as we all thought after all. See ya.”

The kid stepped into the narrow street to pass Garrett on the pathway and skipped along on his way. Puzzled by the kid and the way he treated him as if he were the adult, Garrett just shook it off and started following the directions to the exit of the Undecided sector.

The walk took him longer than he’d have liked, but by the time he was near the exit, several other people had begun walking that direction too. In a small crowd, he joined them as they made their way to the nearest transport station. Some people passed the station by, gazing longingly at it and Garrett realized they must have not had enough trecins to pay for a ride.

When he boarded the transporter and input his destination, the transporter asked for fifteen trecins. With a wince, Garrett paid for the ride, thinking that it’d be three hours’ worth of work to earn back. Not to mention, it was all the money he currently had. No wonder some of the people didn’t take the transporter. He’d have to be careful how often he used it from now on.

As the city sped by, Garrett’s gratefulness at his idea to smuggle trecins out of his home grew. If he’d had to walk from his apartment complex to the Grady’s home, he wouldn’t have made it on time even if he’d been told the night before what his job was.

Garrett’s confidence grew as he recognized the part of the city that used to be his home pass by. He knew exactly where he needed to go after exiting the transporter. Wexler street was where the upper, upper-middle-class of Galaxcion lived. It wasn’t uncommon for the two and three-story houses to have immaculately curated lawns and gardens beside the driveways for their two personal transporters.

Garrett’s family had been solidly in the middle class. He and Opal used to like walking down Wexler street gazing at the houses and wondering what it’d be like to live in one of those. Now, Garrett was going to find out just how much work was involved in upkeeping those elaborate lawns and gardens.

By the time he’d arrived at 5554 Wexler Street, the brighter light of day had already begun to shine over the horizon. The clock on his interwave read 4:56 am; he’d made it with a bit of time to spare.

A few men were already gathered outside the Grady house, retrieving gardening tools, and getting to work. Unsure of where to begin, he walked over to the wheelbarrow with the tools and peered inside.

“Are you Garrett Gibbons?” inquired a tall, husky man around 35-years-old.

Garrett faced him. The man was dressed similar to the man who’d taken him from the ceremony yesterday. “Yes, I’m Garrett Gibbons.”

“Good, you have been recorded as present for work today. At the end of the job, you’ll hand in your tools and receive your payment for a completed job. If your work is deemed as sub-quality, you’ll only be paid half-wages, do you understand?”

Half-wages? They had to be crazy, he thought. Instead, he simply hung his head and nodded. “Yes, I understand.”

“Good, now get to work.” The man made a note on his clipboard and walked off to check the next man in.

Garrett returned to the wheelbarrow and peered inside once again. There was an assortment of tools that he had no idea what to do with. He hadn’t done gardening a day in his life. His mother was the one who liked to keep a small garden in the backyard. She’d been extremely picky about it and wouldn’t let him or his father touch it. Not that he would have asked to anyway.

“Are you going to take all day or what?” complained a man behind him.

“Oh, no, sorry.” Garrett chose a tool at random and followed the other men to the side yard.

Examining the tool he held in his hands, it resembled a big set of funky scissors. Unsure what to do with it, he started looking at the guys around him and watching what they were doing. To his horror, he realized none of them had shears like he did.

Afraid to be caught doing nothing and have his pay docked, Garrett moved towards the nearest bush and started cutting around the edges, trying to maintain its shape. Although, he moved slowly afraid of destroying the bush altogether. If he killed the bush, he knew he could kiss his full wages goodbye.

“First day on the job?” observed someone to his left.

Garrett glanced over to who had spoken. A guy his age with straight black hair that reached to the tip of his cinnamon brown eyes looked at him with kindness. “Yeah, it kinda is.”

“It’d say more than kinda.” The guy grabbed the shears from Garrett and started expertly trimming the bush. “You have to work around it like this, shaping the bush without cutting too much off. You want to work fast, but careful. Make sure you don’t work too closely to someone else, because these things are sharp enough to cut off a finger.”

Garrett gulped at his statement. The tool was definitely not something to play with. He watched as the guy quickly finished the bush and then straightened with the same smile on his face. “Thank you, I appreciate you showing me how to do it.”

“No problem. They always throw us into these jobs like we already know how to do everything. Those pompous Decideds, huh?”

“Yeah,” Garrett agreed, not wanting to alienate himself from this new ally by disagreeing.

“What’s your name?”

“Garrett. Yours?”

“I’m Lance. Lance Beanstrom.” Lance gestured to himself as he spoke. “Stick with me today and I’ll help show you the ropes. You don’t want to have your pay docked because