by Anne Pleydon
“That’s enough,” Baird chides. “You’re close with Farewell?”
“We’re close,” Cody says.
Michelin continues, “Those guys. Hastings and Eddie. They all made it. I want in on that.”
“Chatty,” says Burrard, staring at Michelin. “You talk.”
“What?”
“You talk, man,” Burrard says.
“So?”
“So, that’s it. Just too much.”
Michelin has yet to respond.
“I’m saying, you run your mouth.” Burrard’s face is flat. Laura stands by the door. Baird can just tell she does not know where to place herself. New staff are like that. They don’t seem to know what to do with their hands or bodies or know where to look.
Baird’s eyes dart from Michelin to Burrard. Then, he says to the boys, “That’s enough. Get ready for group.” The boys move away from the office. Burrard shuts off the tv.
Baird stares at Laura and he steps toward her. “You alright? You seem startled to have the boys close to you.”
“Oh, that.” She points toward the office. “In the group homes where I’ve been the past, clients are not allowed in the office.”
Baird returns, “Hmm.”
Frank hangs up the unit phone and approaches Baird. He says, “Helmcken.”
“Yep,” Baird answers.
Baird brings out a flip chart and markers from his office. He tells the boys to grab a chair and make a circle. Across the unit Frank opens up a cell and swings the door open. Laura continues to look uncertain where she should be sitting or standing and Baird does not feel like instructing her. He notices the boys are slow to move. There are side conversations. There is a buzz at the unit door and all eyes are on it.
“Shit,” Cody says to Michelin.
A staff escorts a pale red-haired youth who is carrying institutionals and a small plastic bag of toiletries. Helmcken sports a half-smile and surveys the unit. He is a small youth. He’s smaller than Michelin.
Helmcken approaches at least half of the youth on the unit. He ignores the younger youth. It appears he’s going to shake hands with the more senior youth but then he pulls them in close and the boys’ arms keep the bodies from touching. They slap each other on the back. Cody stands with Michelin close behind him. The greeting is warm.
Cody says, “Shit, what you in for?”
“Bullshit.”
“When’s court?”
“Thursday. Gotta talk to my lawyer.”
“You getting out?”
“Nah, man. They went to send me to rehab or some shit.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“I should be getting out this week,” Cody says. “They might drop some shit.”
“Nice.”
Helmcken’s greeting with Michelin is cooler. “You’re always right behind this guy.” Helmcken nods to Burrard but Burrard walks away toward the washroom.
“Fuck off,” Michelin returns.
“Just right there. Just beaking off.”
“Nah, he’s alright,” Cody says.
Frank shows Helmcken where to put his stuff. Baird instructs the youth again to bring the chairs around the flip chart. Glover is taking his time moving his chair. Burrard lingers by the washroom. Baird sees Burrard exchange a look with one of the youth, possibly Glover.
Burrard says, with an open hand on his chest, “Washroom.”
“Okay,” Frank says. “Quick.”
“You can’t rush this,” Burrard says, as he disappears into the washroom.
Laura says to Baird, “Where should I sit?”
“Right here,” He touches the back of a chair. “We have someone joining us today. Come on. Let’s go. Let’s move it. Glover, grab your chair and get up here. I’m not telling you again.”
Baird starts printing something out on the flip chart.
“How are doing?” Frank says to the student as she sits down. He keeps an eye on the youth because Baird has his back turned to the flip chart.
Laura turns to give Frank a smile but Frank screams past her ear, “Get down! Get down, right now! Get down!”
Frank springs up and tackles Glover who has struck Helmcken on the shoulder with a chair. Baird is right beside him and the two of them hold Glover on the ground. The two men seem to dwarf Glover. Helmcken slides down to the floor immediately it appears more so from the shouting from staff than an injury. The other youth have fallen to the ground and lay on their bellies. Baird calls a Code Red with his radio.
“Get to your rooms!” Baird instructs the youth and they scramble quickly. The unit doors are slamming behind them. The first of the Code Red team arrives to relieve Baird. Baird retrieves Burrard from the washroom and gives him an intense death glare as the youth returns to his room.
Glover is not resisting the staff who have him in a restraint. Baird tells Helmcken to go to his room. Helmcken rubs his shoulder and seems to be taking his time returning to this cell. Helmcken smiles and says to Glover, “I’ll see you soon, bitch. You’re a little bitch!”
“Shut up!” Baird barks.
The rest of the Code Red team arrives breathing hard and pumped. They almost appear deflated that the fight is over. They start to escort Glover out. All the boys are watching from the windows in their doors.
“I’m going,” Frank says to Baird as he is leaving the unit with the team and Glover.
“I have it,” Baird responds.
The boys are on lockdown. Baird furrows his brows. “Get away from the doors. Shit.”
Baird turns to see Laura for the first time. She’s shaking and on her knees in front of her chair. He has to stop himself from laughing. “You didn’t have to get down. Just them.”
“Oh,” she says, getting to her feet. “Oh my god. That was scary.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah. Why’d he do that?”
“Because he’s an idiot.”
“Oh.”
“I’m gonna have to ask you to leave though. We’re going to do the investigation now.”
“Oh, that’s fine. Thank you. Thank you for having me today.” She looks around as though she might have left something.
“Okay,” he says, laughing, but he is already thinking about all the paperwork he has to do.
Chapter 10
LAURA SITS AT THE COMPUTER in the student office. She closes her university email account and pops the last piece of her sandwich in her mouth. She sighs loudly as she crumples up the sandwich wrapper and looks for the two-pack of cookies in her bag. She looks up as Kenny breezes into her office. Her supervisor looks a bit winded and her eyes are flashing.
“So, what was it like at Unit 3?” Kenny asks, with a mischievous smile, and leans on the edge of Laura’s desk.
Laura inhales and instinctively grabs a pen and note pad. “It was really interesting. I liked it.”
“You saw the fight, eh?”
“Yeah, between those kids, Glover and the red head.”
“Helmcken. Yeah, I just saw the video.”
“Video?”
Kenny points to the ceiling. “Cameras. Every time there’s an incident, they review it right away. They burn it and prep a package for the police. Did you see the staff, though?”
“Yeah, I just. Wow. They were so fast. I didn’t even know what was happening.”
Kenny nods. “Yep.”
“I could never do what they do,” Laura says.
“Hmm, it takes a special kind. You need to be wired for it. I really believe that.”
“I just can’t believe that Glover kid. Why would he do that? They didn’t seem to be fighting before.”
“Yeah, that kid’s gonna live here with the bitch-work he does. From the tape, it looks like Burrard signalled for him to do it. But you never know.”
“Oh.”
“It’s not a surprise. Someone new was on unit. They hope staff are distracted. They pick t
imes on purpose. Usually it’s when one staff is on break or something new is happening.”
“Do you think the other boys knew?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“So, what happens now?”
“They’ll talk to the kids and see what happened. The kids won’t talk so they’ll be on lock-down today. Well, Glover certainly won’t rat out on Burrard. Mr. Baird will get the story sooner or later. Just maybe not today.”
“Wow.”
“It’s not the first time Glover has done something like that. He’s small, so he uses weapons. He can’t fight. But I’m glad you met Helmcken. He’s our new referral. Yay.” Kenny exaggerates her smile. “He’s definitely lived here. Never put in a referral before though.”
Laura pauses and looks down at her pen and notepad. She wants to ask a relevant question so her supervisor can tell she’s thinking from a systems’ perspective. “So, you see a lot of the same kids coming in here over and over?”
“Yeah.”
“What about success stories?”
“What’s that? Just kidding,” Kenny stretches and then sits on the edge of Laura’s desk. “I’ll tell you what I was told when I was your age. I didn’t believe it at the time but I believe it now. Well, wait, do I believe it?” She pauses and places a finger on her lips.
“No, there is success. There is,” Kenny insists. She appears bright and youthful as she cocks her head to the side. She doesn’t look directly at Laura when she continues. “As for a classic success story where everyone would say ‘Holy shit, that kid turned their life around,’ well, you might get one in your career. Actually, the greatest success story I know of was a guy who never had a minute of therapy so, who the hell knows. He’s this awesome community youth worker guy, Tim. He’s the best. We had some kids together. We still chat from time to time. Sometimes, when I need info on a kid on the street, I’ll ask him. He’s very careful not to betray their confidence. But, big things, he’ll let me know what’s up.”
Kenny sighs. Her eyes dart around the room. “What was I saying? Oh right. But for some, it’s the successes you have in therapy and right here in custody that are huge. I take solace in that. But what we really want are those gains to get generalized to the outs, too. They get released and then same old same old. Of course. This is an artificial environment. Most of the programming here is not evidenced based. Don’t get me started on some of the shit programs that have come through here. And the volunteers. Fuck. Useless pieces of shit. I hate them. I don’t care.” Kenny leans closer to Laura and lowers her voice. “The Super loves them and wants us to have some relationship with the community. But it’s all crap. They’re a security hazard and so dumb. They have no training to deal with these kids, or they think they had a shit life so that makes them qualified to come in here and tell the kids they had it hard, too. Do not get me started. You can always spot an amateur if their primary intervention is telling their own life story. Really? Is that all you got?”
Laura bites her lip. She has certainly never heard anyone ever say an unkind word about volunteers before. It makes her feel suddenly embarrassed of all the volunteer work she has on her resumé and she wonders if Kenny saw that. She is also reminded of Dr. Mull’s warning about how Kenny hates students and wonders if Kenny has ranted about them the same way.
Kenny looks back to the hallway as though she hears something, but then returns her gaze to Laura. “These volunteers think these kids need some corrective positive experiences or something, like they’ve never met a decent adult in their lives. Highly unlikely. The kids use them. Get shit out of them. Man, volunteers bring in drugs and cell phones and money and deliver shit for these kids. And giving them manicures, face massages, and teaching them how to juggle. I’m not even kidding. It happens all the time. Whatever. I’m not supposed to say that. But I hate having them crawling around here. Hanging out with my therapy kids and then informing me of shit I need to be addressing in therapy. Yeah, right. I mean, these kids say one thing, and the volunteers eat it up, and then there’s paperwork because of the stupid shit kids say. They say sensational stuff all the time. Or that a kid was crying. Don’t get me started on the paperwork I’ve had to read and also fill out because some volunteer saw a kid crying here.”
Kenny suddenly laughs and Laura is startled. The grad student continues to finger her pen as though some detail can be jotted down but she is at a loss. Kenny continues, “So, success. Some of these kids age out. We’re seeing the worst of the worst here, but almost all criminals decrease criminal behaviour as they age. You can get into a mind fuck and think, would they have just gotten better with or without all this intervention? Those cases are harder to think about. It makes us all wonder, why are we even here? What difference did I make? Does anything I do even matter?”
“Do you have a success story?” Laura is pandering and she senses her supervisor knows it but doesn’t mind. Kenny nods with a smile. Her dark eyes shine. Laura likes seeing Kenny’s face like that.
Kenny says, “Yeah, I do. I’ve had my one I think. And, if he’s my only one, it’ll be enough.”
“Who?”
“Noah Farewell. I’ll get you his file. Or did I already give you his file as an example? It should have gone to storage but I keep it around. He was my first gangster kid when I was your age. That was many, many moons ago.”
“Yes, you gave it to me. What happened to him?”
“When he came to us, he was a mess. Drug sick. Enamoured with the gangster lifestyle. He taught me more than I ever offered him. He helped me go in directions around antisocial attitudes and identity that I never realized before. A lot of the therapy exercises I use now I developed or tested out on him.”
“What’s he doing now?”
“Well. Easy now. I don’t know if he’s a classic success story. I probably think about him in a sentimental way because he was my first long-term kid. He came here on really sensational violent charges involving an axe. I saw him for years and even for a little while when he was in the community. He finished high school. He got out of the gangs. Went to college. I don’t know if he finished but I know he wanted out of the life bad. I don’t hear much about him so that’s good. He had a couple run ins with probation and the police after but I think he found his way. Got off drugs. I mean, probably still smokes weed but off the hard stuff. Last I heard he went out west and was working on the rigs or something. I think he has a kid. He was really bright. An old soul. I really hope he did all the travelling he wanted to do. He was the only kid I ever worked with that wanted to see the world.”
“You don’t keep in contact?”
“The joys of our profession. We don’t pursue. Imagine if your therapist called you up years after you stopped seeing them and said, ‘Hey, how’s it going?’”
Laura shrugs one shoulder. “I don’t know, I think I would like it.”
“Yeah, the kids all say they wouldn’t care. And they probably wouldn’t mind. But you know, professional boundaries and all that. Ya gotta be careful. If they told you anything you had to report, it would get really messy. You don’t want contact with clients outside of the professional relationship. If it doesn’t fall under assessment, therapy, or consultation, you need to ask yourself what you’re doing. The relationship is over. It’s got to be left there as over. You have to let it go.”
“That’s true.”
“Yep.”
“So you’ve had failures,” Laura starts.
“Oh hell, yes! Oh god. Some so heart breaking I was shaken to the core. Brutal. I had a tough time a couple years ago with a kid who murdered an elderly man after I’d seen him for years. That was not a good scene for me.”
“How did you get through it?”
“Good colleagues. Also, Mr. McDonough. He saw me those first couple days. He could see I was starting to own it and told me not to. It really helped. I like to think that won’t happen to me again to that extent. And I don’t think it will. It’s all lear
ning. Skills!”
“How do you not get jaded?”
“That’s what staff does. They don’t get their hopes up about kids because they won’t risk being wrong. They need to keep that distance too because they have other priorities. They’ll say, ‘We give them the tools, it’s up to them to use them!’ But, it’s okay to hope, you know. I will always hope. I’ll risk feeling the fleeting heartbreak. I’d rather get my heart broken than feel nothing. Every time.”
“Mr. Baird said that you can’t own their failures.”
Kenny flushes. “Mr. Baird said, did he? Yeah, I’ve gotten that lecture from him, too. Don’t own the failure. It’s not about you. But I say to him, ‘We all feel just a little bit part of someone’s success so, why not have a feeling like being a part of the failure?’”
“Hmmm.”
“People who are truly great at what they do examine themselves when they do poorly.”
“Okay. But, it means we did poorly?”
Kenny’s mouth tightens. “I don’t know. But something went wrong. Or wasn’t enough.”
There is silence between them.
“Not that I’m saying I’m great,” Kenny says, with a grim expression. Then, she flashes a silly smile. “But I am.”
Laura smiles, too, and sensing her supervisor is about to leave, quickly adds, “So, I’m not sure how I’m supposed to write up this morning. You know, in terms of hours.”
“Oh.” Kenny’s face falls. Laura senses her supervisor is disappointed again and she doesn’t know why.
Kenny says, “Supervision, call it supervision.” She straightens her shoulders and walks to the door turning to say, “Okay, we have this vague referral from Helmcken. Let’s put him in an interview room and go meet him. I’ll take the lead and then we’ll chat afterward about what he needs, alright?”
“Yes, I’m excited,” Laura answers, feeling somewhat stupid because she knows she has responded to her supervisor with this exact phrase before.
Chapter 11
LAURA WAITS IN THE ROTUNDA. She stands a couple steps away from the School Control. She watches as Kenny leans against worn out edges of the desk. She recognizes the young staff with the baseball cap named Rodney. Laura pulls down her blouse and shifts her feet. Her hand feels sweaty from holding on to a yellow notepad and pen. She sees how familiar Dr. Halpin is with Rodney. Laura has never considered having a close relationship with a frontline staff like that. It has never occurred to her. She does not quite understand it.
