Page 84 of Big Britches
“Mr. Compton?” Pedro said, a little louder than normal, and projecting toward the hallway. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yeah,” said a disembodied voice, without inflection. “In my office.”
The situation was abnormal, and with the addition of the strange weather, surreal. Subtract their encounter with Silas at the movie theater a few days prior, and Pedro would have thought he was dreaming. He walked to the end of the hall and entered the open door. Silas was sitting there, mounds of papers on his desk.
“Hey, boss.” Pedro said. “Miguel said you wanted to see me.”
“Yes.”
“Should I sit?”
Silas looked at him long and hard, his expression neutral, neither amiable nor angry.
“No,” he said. “No sense in that. I’m letting you go, Pedro. I need your truck keys. Hand them over.”
Pedro, ever the dutiful employee, automatically reached into his pants pocket to find them.
“I don’t understand,” he said, extending the keys to Silas. “Have I done something wrong?”
“Just put them on the desk,” Silas said. “I think you know what’s going on here. I can’t control what you do in private, Pedro, but I will not have one of my employees out in public as one half of a queer couple… with a child, no less.”
“Mr. Compton, I do good work here, no? I never call out and I finish all my shifts on time. I don’t?—”
“It’s all about reputation, son,” Silas said, smugly, even though he and Pedro were roughly the same age. “We’re a reputable, Christian landscaping service.”
Pedro considered this. At no time while he was working for the company had religion ever been brought up. This was all news to him.
Seeing his confusion, Silas elaborated. “It’s Christian run. My family is Christian.”
“I’m a Christian.”
“That so? Well, then I guess you’re gonna burn in hell.”
Pedro’s apprehension shifted up a notch. Not just because of the ludicrous propaganda Silas was spewing, but because he was seeing the Silas Titus had described. There was a calculated coldness in his glare, indifferent, yet menacing. And behind its iciness, an agenda. An illogical one, maybe, but an agenda all the same.
The simplest way to terminate employment in Pedro's case would be inappropriate relations with a client. Plain and simple. It was a common rule, and he’d broken it. If Silas asked him, he would come clean, and they could part ways civilly. Consensual relationships between workers and customers had been happening since the dawn of time. What Pedro did behind closed doors was in no way affecting Compton’s Greenscapes or his performance as an employee there. Using bias to fire him, a seasoned employee, made little sense. It was like removing your hand just because one finger was crooked.
“If it’s something I’ve done, I–”
“Let me be clear,” Silas interrupted. “You don’t work for me anymore. I don’t like you, Pedro. Never did.”
How do you argue with that?
Silas stood. “I hired you because you’re cheap labor. That’s the only thing you Mexicans are good for. It’s an American pastime, you know, building businesses on the back of those less fortunate. No offense, of course. It’s more cost effective.”
“But–”
“Not finished. I especially don’t like it when you people stay permanently, polluting our gene pool. Oh, wait. That’s right. I wouldn’t have to worry about that with you, would I? You’re not one for the ladies like that idiot, Miguel. Damn, Pedro–queer and Mexican? I’m not sure which is worse. Yes, sir. You gotta go… all the way back to Mexico.”
Pedro felt a tremendous surge of lightheadedness. Overwhelming emotions were brimming inside him—disappointment, fear, helplessness, and rage. He thought of Titus. What would Titus do in this situation?
Crush him.
Pedro wanted to crush him badly. Silas stood there, unblinking, almost as if expecting it.
Wait.
Being the owner and HR department of Spoon's only landscaping company didn't give Silas the power to force Pedro out of the country. There were protections elsewhere—federal rules and regulations regarding immigrants and their employment. Silas knew this. He had to maintain documentation in order to employ and retain migrant workers. He could fire Pedro, but not jeopardize his residency unless–