The Apprentice comes clean

i had to do this for my English assessment this term and im really scared its not good enough, r&r please xoxox

The apprentice comes clean.

 

He was wearing green shirt, a bit tight. On it was the logo of the supermarket he worked at. He was a little bit plump around the middle, balding and looked to be in his late fifties. He was carrying a fifty dollar note in his hand. I'm unsure what made me look up from my book at this particular moment, perhaps is was impulse? I studied the ageing man further; he has a slight limp. Possibly from having his appendix removed or a knee reconstruction or maybe even a hip replacement. Maybe the guy just limped.

He had a very prominent scar running from his left cheek all the way down his neck. It looked to be a burn mark. It looked recent too. Maybe an accident at work? Or maybe he was born with the mark. Anyway the point is that he seems almost familiar.

Ah, I remember now. There was an article in the paper last week. Stan, his name was Stan Bantex. He used to work down at the posh restaurant on Queen street. Best chef in the business according to mum. Of course she would know she has been to the restaurant more than me, what ? With her having a new man every week.

 

Anyway there was an accident there a few weeks back. The papers had said that the silly old coot slipped and poured oil all over himself. The magazines say he did it on purpose. I say they're wrong. There is more to Stan then meats the eye and I'll be darned if I don't find out more. I bookmarked my page and closed my book, setting it down next to me. My eyes followed him as he walked further down the path. He walked into the bread shop and I thought maybe he came down here for smoko? He ordered, paid and left without collecting his change. At first I thought he was in a hurry but then I realised that the woman behind the counter had recognised him, just like I did. If it was me I’d leave in haste too. Especially if I knew I was recognised not for my good work or the nice person I am, but as the crazy old man hell-bent on getting attention from the media.

 

Mrs. B who owned the bread shop was a right gossip. Oh and she loved to have her say on absolutely everything. She had been the one who had responded to the newspapers, saying that Stan was a loony and just wanted attention. The sad thing is, that she is the type of person who a lot of people are more inclined to believe. In saying that, there are a select few of us who know that Stan isn't like that. I mean, he is the most humble person just going about his business like everybody else. So why make him out to be a crazed attention seeking mad man? I think it's them who are seeking attention but then maybe it's because this town has been 'dead' news wise for years and the tabloids are just looking for any story they can get. Now if you ask me ( which most people don't ) that's a pretty lame excuse to make all those accusations.

What angers me most about this is that he got fired. Forced to leave the job he loves because of an accident. Absolutely ridiculous. And now you're thinking; but he works at a supermarket. Well the guy had to earn money somehow.

I snapped out of my thoughts abruptly. What am I still still standing here for?

I marched over to Mrs. B who looked scandalised that Stan had left so hastily. Serves her right. “Mrs. B? Aren't you going to go and give him his change?” I asked. She looked at me as if I'd grown another head. “No,” she said, “ He left without it so he obviously didn't want it.” She finished her sentence with her nose in the air. Someone really needs to knock her off her high horse. I clenched my fists, was she really that naïve or was she just being her usual difficult self? Most likely the later then the former.“No, you know what I think? I think he just didn't want to be mocked and ridiculed, honestly I'd leave too.” I said the last part of my sentence a bit quieter than the rest. Mrs. B stayed silent for a moment so I asked my question again. “ So are you going to give it to him... or I could if you'd like?”

I could see it in her eyes, she knew I was right. Surprisingly she opened the till and handed me his change, she may have hated me for being a nosey kid but she knew I was trustworthy. However she still gave me a very mean warning. “There it is. But I am warning you now, I am watching you so any funny business, any at all and I will call the police. To which I answered with a sickly sweet smile and “Of course Mrs. B.”

 

I ran down the footpath, leaving my book forgotten on the counter. I sprinted down to the man and called out, “Sir!” no answer. “Mr. Bantex?” success! He swivelled his head around and looked at me. “Can I help you?” He asked politely but there was a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “No,” I quickly rethought my answer, I didn't want him to walk away. “Well yes, but first I have something of yours.” I told him. I could practically see the cogs turning in his head. He was trying to think what possession of his that I could possibly have. I placed the $46 change in his calloused hand. He looked down at his hand then up at me. At first his face morphed into one of anger but then changed slightly to confusion.

“Why? Why approach me? Aren't you afraid I might pour oil all over you?” he questioned with his sarcasm becoming more obvious. “ You're welcome and no I'm not.” I said seriously. He seemed to realise that he had forgotten his manners, after a muttered thanks he continued to limp back down the path the way he came.

I called out to him, “Hey! Stop... er... please?” he hesitated for a moment but that was all I needed. I caught up to him and said, “ I know something else happened that night. Despite what you think there are a few of us, myself included, who do not,” I put a particular emphasis on those two words. “believe the garbage that the news papers and the magazines say and I sure as hell don't believe Mrs. B” I looked up at him for a response.

“But you're just a kid, a kid meddling in an adults world. Nothing else happened okay? People make mistakes and mine just happened to be bigger than most. So leave me the hell alone!”

Wow. I could tell that had been building up for a while.... and since when am I a kid? Fourteen, clearly I'm a teen and not a kid. I walked back to the bread shop in defeat. I told Mrs. B that I had done my job. I slumped down onto a stool and picked up my book. I opened it to the last page I was reading. “ The Apprentice...” it read. I mulled it over in my head. My brain was telling me that this was important... but how?

That's it! Mr. Bantex was the head chef at the most exquisite restaurant in town, of course he would have had an apprentice! It all made sense now. Maybe I could talk to the apprentice, I mean I kind of knew him. His name is Jesse, same year as me at school.

 

I guess you could call it convenient that his house is about 2 minutes from here... that is if I run. Once again I raced out of the shop, only this time I remembered my book.

 

I arrived at number 7 Wattle Lane. I found him sitting on the bricked wall. He had his earphones in and music blaring. From a far he was handsome. Up close he was drop dead gorgeous. That white shirt of his did all the right things for him. I casually went and sat next to him, but not too close so that it was creepy. Just close enough so he would notice me.

I saw him move, out of the corner of my eye. He took out his earphones and looked over at me. “Hey” we said in unison. He chuckled and I looked away. “Hi, look you probably don't remember me, I-” I began but he spoke over me.

“Actually you're pretty hard to forget. I sit 3 seats behind you in maths, Brittany. I knew you were smart, I knew you would figure this out. Please help me, I don't know what to do.”

He look at me pleadingly. I had never seen him look so...scared. I thought for a moment then replied, “ I'll only say this, Sometimes we must choose between what is right and what is easy, that much is up to you.”

Author's Note

if tis crap sorry for wasting that much of ur life