by Rich Garon
“How do I know? They’re all the same. Even if he’s stupid enough to give you the job, you won’t last very long.” His father laughed. “Those people will be calling Calvert and asking him why he hired a character like you.”
“Dad, I am not a character. Nobody calls me a character except you.”
“No one knows you like I do. I just face facts. I’m going to have to support you for the rest of your life.” He threw open the door. “And your mother, don’t get me started; I never hear from her. She doesn’t help with a damn thing.”
Jim Fitts was about to be swallowed up by a ten-hour shift as a security guard at Locust Shade Mall. That shift usually spit him out to Pete’s Pub. There wasn’t much left of him these days when he came home. Lee watched the last trace of his father walking down the street and then turned to the narrow bookcase they had brought from their old house. He remembered how his father used to clean one of the picture frames. Inside was the photo of Lee in that blue and white uniform with his Dad holding that blue helmet and smiling that huge smile. The picture was gone now and so was any way to capture that smile in a new photo.
“Lee, remember, be there on time! That’s an important first impression; jacket and tie too. And remember, a nice firm handshake when you meet Mr. Herman; he sounded very nice on the phone. Don’t forget to remind him you’re being referred by Mrs. Plennington who is a friend of Mrs. Calvert’s. Do you have all that, honey?”
“Yes, Mrs. Plennington, I have written that all down on my pad. And I have been waiting for this call, so I am all dressed and ready to go. And I will be very polite to Mr. Andy Herman, Mr. Calvert’s campaign manager,” Lee said.
“I want you to come over when you’re done and tell me everything.”
“I will Mrs. Plennington.”
Lee had fifteen minutes to get to the second floor. He hit the elevator button again. The light was on, but the indicator arrow above the door remained on the B. He looked at his watch. A rush went through his arms as he realized he’d lost a minute, maybe two waiting for the elevator. I am a walker, why am I waiting for the elevator? he thought. Maybe I am a character. Maybe Andy Herman would recognize that right away and tell me I don’t care how good a friend Mrs. Plennington is of Mrs. Calvert, you’re just not right for the job. Sorry.
Lee pressed against the banged-up gray steel door that led to the stairs and hustled up two steps at a time. There was the room, just where, Mrs. Plennington said it would be. A piece of paper with the hand-written words Friends of Calvert was taped to a half-open door. Lee grimaced as he tapped on the door hoping he was not making too much noise.
“May I help you?” the heavy-set woman asked. She hadn’t looked up yet or maybe that was as far up as she could lift her head upon which a pyramid of red ringlets rested. Her voice was soft and high; he never would have pictured the woman before him if he were talking to her on the phone.
“Yes, ma’am, my name is Lee Fitts and I am here to see Mr. Herman.”
“Mr. Herman didn’t tell me he was expecting anyone. I’m Terri Herman, his sister, and he usually tells me if he’s expecting someone. But as you can see, we’re still getting organized; just moved into this rat trap last week.” Lee looked around at the stacks of unopened boxes and pieces of computer equipment to be set up. She pointed to a chair that had been treated only to a perfunctory dusting. “Have a seat, Mr. Herman’s on the phone. I’ll let him know you’re here.”
Lee wished there were some way he could let Mr. Herman know he had arrived at the office early. “I am a friend of Mrs. Plennington.”
“Don’t know her,” Terri said as she continued writing.
“She’s a friend of Mrs. Calvert’s. My friend Mrs. Plennington owns a fitness spa; it is called the Fitness Fling and Mrs. Calvert goes there.”
Terri Herman frowned. “Why don’t you hold all that until you talk with Mr. Herman.” The talking in the other room stopped. “Andy, there’s a Lee Fitts out here, says he has an appointment with you.”
“Fitts? Send him back.”
Lee wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and rose slowly.
“You can go in now,” Terri said.
Andy Herman was a little man whose narrow shoulders gave him the look of a pre-teen. He had a comb-over of unnaturally dark hair betrayed by grayish eyebrows and sideburns. From under his open collar, the two ends of his unknotted tie swayed as he shook Lee’s hand.
“You Fitts? I’m Andy Herman. This won’t take long, sit down. I spoke to your friend, Mrs. Plennington. She said some pretty nice things about you. You tell me a little about yourself.”
“My name is Lee Fitts, Mr. Herman.” Lee stuck out his hand. He would make sure that he gave Mr. Herman a firm handshake. He remembered how important Mrs. Plennington said that was.
“Yeah, yeah, have a seat, tell me about yourself and what you think you have to offer to help Mr. Calvert,” Andy said.
“Well,” Lee took a deep breath. “I am very polite and like to walk.”
“That’s good Lee ‘cause you would be meeting a lot of people and you’d have to be very polite and you’d have to walk a lot, visit many houses. Do you know anything about politics?”
“Yes, I do. I know there is an election and people try to get the most votes, and the one with the most votes wins.”
“You got it pretty much on the money Lee, and I can tell you’re very polite also.”
“Thank you, Mr. Herman, I think it is very important to be polite.”
“Well there’s other things you’d have to do in this job; you have to read a short message when you talk to the people at their houses. You a good reader, Lee?”
“Yes, I am a good reader; I like to read.”
“Why don’t you take a look at this and pretend you’re at the door.” Andy handed Lee a small card.”
Lee looked at the card and began reading. “Hello, my name is . . . . , wait, I have to fill in that blank. Let me start over. Hello, my name is Lee Fitts and I am representing Dan Calvert who is running for town council. May I ask you some short questions that won’t take much of your time?”
“Okay, that’s good Lee. You are a good reader and after a while you probably won’t have to look at the card. But you see that sheet with all the names and addresses, and you’ll have a lot of those sheets, make sure you fill in the answers in the right spaces.” If you can do that, I think I’d like to welcome you to the Calvert for Council team.”
“I know I can do that Mr. Herman. Does that mean I have the job?”
“Yup, you have the job, start tomorrow, five bucks an hour. But you have to understand, it’s important you get all this information right, we can’t have any foul-ups.”
“Oh, I understand, Mr. Herman, you can count on me.” Lee extended his hand.
“That’s good, you like to shake hands, that’s important for a politician.” Andy said. “Maybe you’ll run for office one day and I’ll be working for you.” Lee smiled and strained to keep smiling as Andy Herman gave him one of the deadest-fish handshakes of all time.
“Now, when I’m not here, Terri’s the boss and you report to her. Terri works with Sanford Black who’s in charge of all our canvassers. You’ll meet Sanford when you start. Now, you go out and see Terri; she’ll give you all the particulars.”
“Thank you again Mr. Herman.”
Andy waited until he heard Lee leaving the front office. “What did you think?” he asked his sister.
“What do I think? I think he’s not the type of guy you usually hire. He’s pleasant, but he’s . . .”
“Yeah, I know he’s just a shade off. But here’s the deal, the kid’s a good friend of a good friend of the candidate’s wife. We’ve both been in this game long enough to know what that’s like. We’ve had worse over the years. His friend said something about his being shy; I think there’s more to it than that. He can read, he’s very polite and I’ll have Sanford go out with him the first day. He’ll be all right. We’ve got to get this ope
ration underway; this election is going to be tougher than we thought.”
As soon as he walked in, Lee realized he should have called. Mrs. Plennington was on the far side of her studio leading a group of twisting, bending women in assorted pastel workout outfits to the thumping beat of disco. He had hoped to find her between classes in her small office where all the exercisers in the spa wouldn’t be looking at him. But it was too late to turn around and leave; Mrs. Plennington had spotted him. She raised her finger and pointed to her office. Her small group turned in unison and looked at Lee. One was old enough to be his grandmother, maybe a few were younger than Mrs. Plennington. It was clear they all would need many more sessions at the spa if they were to look the way Mrs. Plennington did.
Lee asked himself why he didn’t just call. He could have told her all about his meeting with Andy Herman and how now he was a member of the Calvert for Council team. But no, he had to come to the spa. He liked Mrs. Plennington a lot. She was always very helpful. But he was always nervous when he was with her. Lee was never sure how he was supposed to respond, especially when she ran her hands along his neck and shoulder and sometimes his waist and then said, “Okay Sweetie?” But he liked being with her. And he knew also he liked to come to the spa to see Christie Veit. He had gone to junior high with Christie. She never paid any attention to him until one day when he was getting on the late bus that took home football players and cheerleaders and any other students who had after-school activities. She smiled and said hello to him and he fell in love. He remembered that afternoon. She was so pretty. He didn’t know how he would make it through the night without seeing her. He spent so much time combing his hair and fixing his shirt the next morning that he almost missed the bus. They never to this day spoke about what happened that morning. Lee remembered only that Christie’s brother lay in the middle of the bus with blood rushing from his head and a bone in his neck sticking out through his skin.
Lee still carried those feelings toward Christie, but she didn’t say much to him. He usually got the same smile she gave out freely to anyone who came into the spa; it was not the smile that had told a school boy one afternoon that Christie wanted to kiss him, and hold him, and marry him. He had overheard Mrs. Plennington tell Christie that he was different now, he’d never be the same. Others too said that about Lee; none though ever as despairingly as his father.
“So, how did it go?” Mrs. Plennington asked him as she pulled a towel from a hook next to her desk and patted down her arms and face. She held the towel over her mouth making her stare seem even more penetrating. She bent over slightly and patted the back of her neck. She pulled out the elastic in her hair and placed the towel over her shoulders. “So, how did it go?”
“It went very well Mrs. Pennington. I spoke with Mr. Andy Herman and he told me I am now a member of the Calvert for Council team. That is why I came over here, to tell you in person and to thank you for getting me a job that I think I will really like. But, maybe I should have called because I know you are always very busy.”
“Lee, don’t you ever think you just can’t come over here anytime you want. I’m never too busy for you and I want you to remember that. Your mother and I were very good friends, even though I wish she’d stay in touch a little more. And you know I’ve tried with your dad; I mean, well I don’t know, for some reason I don’t think he’s very fond of me.”
“My dad sometimes does not mean some of things he says; he works very hard and he just gets tired.”
“Maybe you’re right. Anyhow, Lee, there is no doubt in my mind that you will do a great job for Mr. Calvert. He’s a very nice man and will make an excellent councilman. Did you see his campaign sign I put in the front window?”
“Yes, it is a very colorful sign.”
Audrey leaned over and gave him a lightning-quick smooch on his forehead. “You’re going to do very well, Lee. You’re a very bright boy, don’t ever forget that.” Her voice cracked slightly as if she were overcome at the thought of all the comments spoken behind Lee’s back.
Christie was up by the front door helping a stooped, frail woman whose blueish white hair clashed with her lime sweat suit. “You look mighty dapper today, Lee. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you in a jacket and tie before,” Christie said.
“Oh, that is because I just got a job with Mr. Calvert. Mrs. Plennington has his poster in the front window. I am a member of the Calvert for Council team.” He looked at her face. That smile wasn’t there.
“Good luck,” Christie said.
“Thank you. I am sure Andy Herman knows how to get enough people to vote for Mr. Calvert.”
Lee had fallen asleep in his father’s reclining chair. Lee was always very careful to make sure the pillows and arm covers were the way his father had left them. Very careful, ever since that night his father came home and caught him. “I told you to stay out of my chair. Damn it, can’t I have one thing of mine that you don’t screw up?”
The phone rang and Lee’s head shot up. His heavy sleep was still pulling on him as the phone continued to ring. He reached over to get the receiver, but as he pulled it toward him, it knocked into a half-finished glass of Coke. A brown spot expanded as it absorbed into the side of the chair.
“Oh no! Oh no! Please God no,” he screamed as the receiver bounced on the seat.
“Lee, Lee, what’s going on? You all right?” Reid called out from the receiver. “Lee, answer me, it’s Reid.”
“Reid, I need help big time.”
“What the hell happened, are you all right?”
“I just spilled soda on my father’s reclining chair.”
“What?”
“This chair may be my father’s favorite thing in the whole world, and he does not want me sitting in it and I was sitting in it and when the phone rang, I reached for it and knocked over the soda and now there is a big stain on the side of the chair. I do not know how I am going to get this stain out.”
Reid had never heard Lee so upset. “All right look, I’m on my way over. I’ve got some stuff I’ve used on my car upholstery. I’ll get the stain out, just get yourself together. Man, get yourself together, it’s only a damn chair.”
“You do not understand. Can you come over right away?”
“I’m leaving right now.”
Lee stared out the window the whole time. Finally, he saw Reid’s truck pull in front of the house.
“See, I got that cleaner on there and most of that stain’s out already. Just fire up this old trusty hair dryer and no one will know anything ever happened here at the scene of the crime,” Reid said as he began waving the dryer over the stain.
“I thought getting my job would make this one of my best days, and now this.”
“What do you mean job and best days?”
“I wanted to know if they had a job for you too.”
What the hell are you talking about? As a matter of fact, that’s why I was calling you, I got something for us tomorrow; it’s a landscaping job. No counting any dopey circulars or anything. All we have to do is haul dirt with a wheelbarrow. And you know what? I think this job could last most of the summer.”
“But I cannot do a landscaping job because I am working for Mr. Calvert. I’m part of the Calvert for Council team.”
“Calvert for Council team?”
“Yes, Mrs. Plennington got me this job. I asked if you could get a job there too, but she said it would probably only be me. I met Andy Herman, Mr. Calvert’s campaign manager, and he hired me right then and there. He said that they were looking for someone to go from door to door and talk to people about Mr. Calvert and they said since I was polite and liked to walk, I had the job.”
“So, let me see if I understand this. You got a job and don’t need this landscape job I got for both of us?”
“Are you angry, Reid?”
“Damn, I don’t know, Lee. I thought we was a team. Ah, I guess if you got that opportunity, I mean you probably would have taken the landscape job if you didn’t
know about the job with this Calvert guy.”
“You are right Reid, I just did not know about your job. I know you have always looked after me. You are my best friend.”
“Yeah, all right, no big deal. Ya know, who knows how long the landscape job will last.” Reid looked down at the open magazine on the small table next to Jim Fitts’ chair. He reached for the issue. “Dan Tamara: The Best Pressure Kicker Ever?” read the big letters on top of the article which was book-marked with tape. “Your dad still pushing this crap?” Reid asked.
“Well he told me not to move that magazine. I had to read it aloud to him two nights in a row when it first came out.”
Reid looked at the glossy color photo of Dan Tamara depicting the kicker as he made contact with a football that just cleared the outstretched, mud-caked arms of a huge, rushing lineman.
“Tamara is the man,” Reid said. “Your old man still think you could be the man?”
“Sometimes he tells me so much and I tell him I cannot do that.”
“Lee, you must admit you were pretty good in school. Damn for a sixth-grader you could kick the shit out of the ball. Remember when the coaches were standing on the sidelines and you kicked the ball twenty yards past them? I still remember the look on their faces. They had to stretch their necks back to see that ball flying way over their heads. Maybe you should try kicking again. Maybe you’d be in a magazine too.”
“I do not think so, Reid. I tried some with my dad. I just get very nervous out there and I cannot kick too good. Then my dad would raise his voice at me and tell me to try harder, don’t be a quitter. Then he would yell out ‘Speakes, I hope you rot in hell.”’
“Well, let’s forget about it then,” Reid said as he put the magazine down. “Not your fault Lee. You’re doing pretty good, same thing could have happened to anyone, that’s what your mom said. She was just happy to have you alive.” Reid remembered the day Lee’s mom took him aside and told him what the doctors said about how traumatized Lee was after being trapped in that bus, and how understanding Lee’s friends were going to have to be. “Reid,” she said. “He’s never going to be the same.”
