Left In Good Spirits

by Anne Pleydon

  “Oh, yes I can,” he responds. Now, he has both feet up on the desk.

  “No interest in sticking around and going for Superintendent or Deputy Super?” she teases.

  He smiles out of the corner of his mouth. “Oh, that would not be in anyone’s best interest.”

  Kenny pauses. “Isn’t there a competition right now for the new Super. Hasn’t Ron been retiring forever?”

  “Yeah, he’s really going this time. So they’ll post soon.”

  “Who’ll get it?”

  McDonough shrugs, “Who should get it? Or who will get it?”

  “Both.”

  “Well, Stevens has been Deputy Super for, what, 10 years, so it should be him.” McDonough sees Kenny scrunch her nose. “I know, he likes his office. But he knows what he’s doing. Ron has micromanaged this place to hell and doesn’t let anyone do anything. Stevens will apply. He should apply.”

  “Who else?”

  “I don’t know. Rumour has it that Lana Clearwater might go for it.”

  “But she’s the Programming Director. Doesn’t she have to be a Deputy first?”

  “No. She’s considered one of the managers. And she’s been acting deputy and acting OIC before.”

  “Well, the kids despise her.”

  McDonough shrugs. He cannot help it. He gets a tight feeling in his stomach whenever anyone outside of Justice says anything negative about Justice staff. He knows the staff hate Clearwater but Kenny cannot just say these things. Even after 10 years, he feels like it is not her business. Then, he softens and feels it is okay to say, “She’s so political she’d kill her own parents to attend the orphan’s picnic.” He smiles broadly. “Or so I’ve heard. What do I know?”

  “Everything, apparently.”

  McDonough feels like he has sat here long enough and there are things to be done. He scans the video monitors.

  “How will this place react to a female Super?” Kenny asks.

  “Do we have to worry about that with Clearwater?” McDonough drawls.

  She laughs. “Oh, bad.”

  There is silence between them again.

  “Well, she doesn’t have much support, so ...” Kenny muses aloud.

  McDonough picks up a pencil and opens one of the binders in front of him. “Well, now, I don’t know about that. She has her minions.”

  “Minions?”

  “She likes to collect people who’ve fucked up. Damaged people. She likes to be generous and give people second chances. And, you know how grateful people can be when they get second chances.”

  “As long as they kiss her ass?”

  “As long as her word is God. They feel they owe her, so they’ll do what they’re told. She likes to build teams that way. C’mon, you haven’t noticed that, doc?”

  “Did she forgive you for your many sins?” Kenny asks, with a smile.

  “No one’s brave enough to hear those confessions. And no, what do I care what front office thinks about me? We’re union. Who gives a shit if management forgives us.”

  “So, you’re saying she has a chance at Super. I’m surprised. Ugh.”

  “You know the change that’s coming with this next government. They’ll cherry pick who’ll take us through that.”

  “What do you mean?” Kenny’s dark eyes are on him.

  “We’re like the only district to still run the way we do. Under Justice like this. Merivale’s gonna go to Children’s Services like the rest of them.”

  Kenny says, “I thought that was just a rumour! And if anything, just Healthcare and Mental Health might go to Children’s Services.”

  “No, the whole kit and caboodle.”

  Kenny mouths the word, ‘Wow.’ Her eyes are wide. “That will be painful.”

  McDonough can tell he has Kenny’s full attention now. He says, “You think I don’t know that? Those social workers running the place like day camp, feeling sorry for the kids. Staff are gonna get killed.”

  “A whole new philosophy. Right.”

  “Yeah, a whole lotta shit. This place has been running fine for 30 years. We don’t need Suzy Social Worker and child welfare coming in here telling us we’re traumatizing the kids if we restrain them. You think social workers know anything about security? Christ.”

  “But what does this have to do with Clearwater?”

  “Hmmm,” he says, and puts a his finger to his lips. “Let’s guess who has a social work degree and worked child welfare back when Jesus was in diapers. And who’s been meeting with Dr. Mull and policy people about potential standards of care in the facility. She has new policy written all over her.”

  McDonough sees Kenny tense at the mention of Dr. Mull’s name and then her face flushes. He supposes she must not have known about Clearwater and Mull meeting and he notes that information for a rainy day. He clears his throat. “Well, I’ll be gone before any of it happens. Otherwise they can buy me out early. I’m not babysitting kids.”

  Dunny pops his head in the office. “The drums are here. They’re going around to the gate. I need the keys.”

  “What?” Kenny asks. The OIC gives the staff a set of keys and notes that Dunny who is usually jovial is stone faced and does not look at Kenny.

  McDonough responds, “Okay, I’ll grab a couple boys and we’ll be out there to unload them.”

  Kenny watches Dunny leave and then she looks at McDonough. The OIC explains, “A gardening project that Clearwater got approved. You see! It’s started already. It’s like the damned rabbits. It’s supposed to be all therapeutic and shit. Because if the place is over-run with rabbits and plants, maybe no one will notice it’s a jail. God forbid we think of it as a jail.”

  Kenny shakes her head.

  McDonough continues, “The idea is for these oil drums to be used as giant pots out in the garden.”

  “No way,” Kenny says.

  “As if I need projectiles out there.” He points in the direction of the field just off the Rotunda.

  “What garden?” Kenny asks, again.

  “The garden that I have to goddamn supervise the kids creating. I told them to use the space inside the unit ring with the rabbits but that was shot down. Not visible enough, evidently.”

  “Okay,” she says, wiping her hands on her pants. She takes her cue as she sees him rise. “I’ll leave you to your Green Thumb.” She pauses on her way out the door and raises her hand to give him the ‘thumbs up’ and says, “But is it your thumb ... or another finger?” She turns her hand slight as though she is going to slowly extend her middle finger. He smiles a warning at her and she stops. McDonough thinks he sees tension on her face as she walks out the door.

  Then, the OIC hears Kenny say to someone in a playful voice, “What’s your problem?”

  “You should know,” was the response. McDonough recognizes the voice as belong to Mr. Baird. McDonough steps out of his office and on to the Rotunda. He finds Mr. Baird leaning against School Control. Kenny disappears through the door to the Mental Health wing.

  McDonough calls, “Ah Bear, the man I was hoping to see. Let me borrow Michelin and Cody for a bit more time after garbage duty. I have a project for them.”

  “What?”

  “Unloading some oil drums for me.”

  Baird simply raises his eyebrows.

  “The latest from the think tank,” the OCI says, as he gestures toward the Admin and Super’s Unit in the left wing.

  Baird nods, “You can have them until 7pm,” indicating the end of his shift.

  The OIC takes a moment to survey the field. He is unhappy about the drums being placed anywhere near the boys’ units. He decides to tell the boys to place them alongside the Health and Mental Health Units. The boys should not be milling around that side of the field anyway when they are on outdoor rec.

  Chapter 4

  IT’S NEARING 9PM at Merivale. The sun has set long ago. It is pitch dark on the yard. The nurse will soon go around to the uni
ts to give nighttime meds. Kenny sits in her office in front of the computer. Her small desk light is left on. With the back of her hand, she reaches out and strokes the leaves on a nearby potted plant and a few fall like dried parchment. Shift change occurred a couple hours ago. Kenny always makes herself scarce at that time to avoid the staff marching to and from the Rotunda. Sometimes if she has not seen Baird all day and she will find herself in the Rotunda for a quick one-two banter exchange with the staff at School Control. But then she feels dumb. Tonight she lost track of time and when she heard Baird’s booming voice coming out of the unit wing she darted away across the Rotunda. She knew he would be able to see her going through the doors to the mental health wing. He would never call to her. He would never do that. She always looked back when she went through those doors but not tonight because she could feel his eyes on her back.

  The massive IKEA clock in her office ticks. It is a sound that seems muted through the day and never more than a supportive hum when she writes her notes. But now, with burning eyes, she listens to its chant and clicks to refresh her email one more time. There should not be anything new there. And there is no new mail. Feels so late why bother leaving only to come back again. And that is it. That is the thought that gets her up and off her chair.

  Kenny shuts down the main lighting in the Mental Health Unit and checks to see that the file room is closed and coffee maker unplugged. She lingers in the hall and looks into Dr. Mull’s office. She uses her key to open his door and steps in and instinctively inhales. Cigarettes, sweat, and ... yes, it has to be beer. The scent is coming out in his sweat and clinging to his clothes and lingering in his office. She wonders what her office smells like. So strange when you can’t smell yourself anymore, she thinks. She raises the crook of her arm to her nose and smells the sweet apricot vanilla of her lotion. Something in her is re-set. She steps back into the hall and pulls Dr. Mull’s office door behind her. She likes standing in the Mental Health Unit when it is empty. It is hard to imagine what it looks like when it is day. She places her coat and bag on the admin desk and walks to the old cell area and looks out the window across the field. She presses her face near the window to see better. There is light coming from the boys’ units. Her eyes go to Baird’s unit as a touchstone. The fire exit door is lit up like a yellow movie screen. Flickering lights. The boys must be watching tv.

  Kenny is all smiles that reach up to her eyes as she walks through the Rotunda. She says goodnight to the School Control staff and deflects a comment about her looking tired by stating she is ‘high on life.’ She walks down the main hallway and says goodnight to the Front Control staff. She dodges a question about the hour of her departure by placing a quizzical look on her face and asking, “Because I’m a loser, maybe?”

  The night air is crisp and there is little hint of wind. Kenny gets into her Hyundai Accent and grips the wheel. She closes her eyes and thinks about the kids she saw for therapy today and an assessment that she finished. Her face is soft and her mouth relaxed. Her lips curl into a grin when she recalls how one of the staff made fun of her car when she drove in this morning. But then she sighs. Her eyes are heavy and there is driving to be done. She pulls out of the parking lot, lifting her fingers gently from the wheel to acknowledge the waving tree.

  Home is a tiny blue house with a front driveway. It is not far from the jail. She pulls in to the drive and turns off the ignition and sits. Then a small woman looks through the living-room window and moves to greet her at the front door and beckons with her hand. Kenny steps out of her car with her work bag and coffee thermos.

  “Hello, Ms. Kenny,” a Filippina woman says to her holding the front door open. She is not even 5 feet tall with a soft middle and dark chin-length hair and brown eyes.

  “Hey, Amalia. How are you doing?” Kenny asks as she crosses the over-grown lawn. Her feet sink into leaves crisped from the frosted air.

  “Good,” Amalia says, as she steps aside to let Kenny enter. She follows Kenny to the kitchen. “There is leftover supper in the fridge. No meat, like you like.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to cook for me,” Kenny protests but her shoulders drop and she is already removing the plate of rice and veggies from the fridge. She places it in the microwave and pushes quick start 3 times.

  “I didn’t. But I do. Mr. Daniel doesn’t eat a thing and it’s a waste if no one eats it. You’re too skinny, too.”

  Kenny grabs a fork out of a drawer and leans against the counter. “Mary was here in the day.”

  “Yes, yes. Mary is here in the day. I’m here now.”

  “You two switched your shifts?”

  “Yes. Is that fine?”

  “Of course. You have both been so wonderful to Daniel while I’m away.”

  There is silence between them.

  “How are your babies doing?” Kenny asks.

  “My babies. Oh I love them. Why my daughter had to go back to work I don’t know. But that means I have them to myself. But I cleaned her house again today.”

  “You’re not supposed to do that anymore!” Kenny exclaims.

  “I can’t help it. What else am I going to do all day?”

  “You do enough.”

  “No, no. I would live there if he would let me.”

  “I know you would.”

  Amalia wipes the sink with a cloth although the counter is spotless. “And I should live there. How can I explain to my family back home why I’m not there?”

  Kenny shrugs. “Because you’re here.”

  Amalia rinses the cloth and squeezes the moisture out. She folds it and places it across the tap. “Mr. Daniel is not doing good, Ms. Kenny. I don’t know.”

  “What did the doctor say?”

  “Oh, the doctor.” Amalia throws up her hands that are red from cleaning. “The doctor. He is the same, I can tell you that. These weeks aren’t good. He sleeps almost always.”

  “Was he in his chair today?”

  “Oh, Ms. Kenny, he hasn’t done that since Thursday. And before that was weeks and weeks. Thursday was the last day for that.”

  Kenny pulls her food from the microwave and places it on the table. As she sits, Amalia says,“I wish you could be here, Ms. Kenny.”

  Kenny tilts her head to the right. Her lips tighten. “I need to work,” she says, and grips her fork tightly until her knuckles whiten.

  “I know. It is not easy,” Amalia says, moving to briefly touch the table next to Kenny’s plate, and then return to stand next to the sink. “It might be time for the hospital.”

  “The hospital is over, Amalia. He made us promise.”

  “Yes, but we promise a husband one thing and then we do what is best. Yes?”

  Kenny’s smile is strained. She gets up and puts her arm around Amalia and squeezes for a second and then releases her before Amalia can respond. “Now, go relax. Watch tv.”

  “I’m going to phone my sister. But you’ll call me if you need me.”

  “Yes, yes.”

  “And I’ll come back up tonight to check,” Amalia adds as she reaches the door leading down to the in-law suite.

  “Yes, thank you. This is so good,” Kenny says, gesturing toward the food.

  Kenny finishes eating alone and puts the dishes in the washer. She listens to the hum of the refrigerator and hears Amalia turn her television on downstairs. Kenny walks on her toes to the master bedroom. The room smells sterile and she wrinkles her nose. There is a king size bed and cot and lounging chair. The light from the master bathroom is on. She glares at the wheelchair that is folded against the wall as though it insulted her.

  “Hey.” His voice is soft and he lifts his hand. She immediately scoots on to the bed and lays beside him and clutches his hand. She studies his face as though searching for something.

  “I’m sorry, I’m late,” she whispers.

  “You need to work,” he says. “Did you eat something?”

  “I can’t ...” Her voice trails o
ff. “What should I do? We should be together.”

  “We will.”

  “What?” she asks, startled. She notes the laugh lines around his moist blue eyes. But his face is gaunt and his once curly brown hair a thinning crown.

  “I meant when you’re off at the end of this month.”

  “I’ll take two weeks instead of one,” she says. He doesn’t say anything. He is fighting a battle against his heavy eyelids.

  “But you’re good?” she asks. “Amalia says…”

  “It’s my back, from laying here,” he says, only opening his eyes briefly to look at the ceiling.

  “Tell me what to do,” she returns although there is a part of her that wants him to just close his eyes so she can turn away.

  “Nothing. It’s good. Let’s sleep. I love you, babes,” he says to end the conversation before he falls asleep in the middle of it. And she quickly moves to kiss his cheek so he does not have to start toward her. “I love you more,” she says. She is relieved because they will stop talking which means she can stop thinking and feeling.

  “C’mon,” he returns. His voice is soft and teasing.

  Then, he is asleep and she scans his face and the thin frame draped by warm flannel sheets. His mouth is open. And then he writhes ever so slightly and intermittently. He is dreaming and his body aches. His legs shift to relieve the discomfort in his lower back. She holds on to the arm cuff of his flannel pajamas.

  His breathing changes. So she turns on to her back and stares at the ceiling. She hears the bass sounds from Amalia’s television below her room. Kenny’s mind is hazy but wired and returns to Merivale and her conversation with McDonough and whatever was going on with Dr. Mull and his unclean clothes, and Clearwater, and justice and mental health, and the boy in Admission who was drug sick, and an assessment she needs to start tomorrow. Would Merivale really go to children’s services? What were Mull and Clearwater planning and why was she being left out of it? Kenny rises and undresses and puts on a sweatshirt and yoga pants and crawls back into bed. Now she longs for sleep and cannot shut off her mind. She feels desperate and selfish for it but she resents the sound of the television and Daniel’s restless legs and irregular breathing. He is not really sleeping. He is in some fitful state.