“Oh, yes, actually. I’m getting ready to go into veterinary school, so I work there part-time.”
I looked at her nametag. “You work there, Stella?”
She nodded. “Yes. I’m a tech…for now at least. That means I help the doctor who looks after the animals. Why do you ask?”
“I saw the paper for volunteers.” I pivoted to point it out to her. When I looked back, she was grinning.
“I put that up. Are you interested…?” She paused, and I realized I hadn’t introduced myself.
“Oh, sorry…I’m Cachi,” I said, deciding after a short hesitation, that using my first name would be okay. I put out my hand and she shook it. She was friendly and seemed warm. I figured that was important when you worked around animals who were often scared to death when they were living in a shelter.
“Cachi. That’s an unusual name.”
“I’m from Puerto Rico.”
“Ah, that explains the accent. Well, if you’re interested, I should tell you, it’s not a glamorous job. You’d be cleaning cages and feeding animals…and the open position is the night shift. That doesn’t mean it couldn’t eventually become a day shift, but for now, that’s all we have. I get off in about a half hour and also work the night shift at the shelter. You can come with me, and I’ll have you fill out a volunteer job form if you like. The lady who handles hiring doesn’t work nights, but I’ll put it on her desk so she sees it in the morning.”
It seemed like fate when she said it was for the night shift. Surely this would be okay.
I grinned at her, nodding vigorously. “Oh, yes, Stella. I wait for you. Thank you so much.”
Another shopper walked up and she nodded before turning away to help her customer. I wandered around the store, finally going into the fish room where there were tons of tanks set up to sell tropical fish. I spent fifteen minutes watching the brightly colored neon tetras, betas, guppies, and angel fish darting around their tanks. When I finally came out of the room, Stella was walking toward me wearing a wide smile and carrying her purse.
“You got lost in the fish room, right?” At my nod, she chuckled. “A lot of people look at the fish.”
“Si. I love them. They are so pretty.”
“Agreed. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, we go.”
She turned and started walking to the front door with her purse slung over her shoulder. “You can follow me with your car.”
“Oh, I no have it. I take the bus.”
“Oh, that’s fine then. You can come with me.”
“Thank you, Stella. I need job.”
She walked over to a Honda Civic, unlocking the door with her key fob. “Here we go.”
I got into the car and once we were in seatbelts, she looked over with her brow furrowed. “You understand that the job doesn’t pay, right? It’s a volunteer position.”
“Oh, yes, I understand this.”
She smiled and started the car. “Oh, good. I was worried.”
I hesitated. “I can’t get job…without papers.”
She glanced over. “But you’re Puerto Rican. You don’t even need a green card, do you? I thought Puerto Ricans were automatically born as U.S. citizens.”
Shit. “Yes, pero, I lost my social security card.” I shrugged. I hated lying to her but it was a safer bet than the truth.
“You don’t know your social security number?” She gave me a puzzled look.
“It’s um…complicated.”
She pursed her lips. “Okay. I get it. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. We have a few volunteers without papers. Maria—the lady who’s the head volunteer—came here from Mexico thirtyyears ago. She was an illegal alien for years before getting her green card. She’ll understand. You just need to be honest with her.”
