Secrets On the Clock

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Secrets On the Clock Page 2

by Nicole Disney

“Not quite, I do need her, though.” Jenna spun toward Danielle. “I’m actually going to be taking you out on the road with me.”

  “Okay.” Danielle could barely hear her own voice.

  Jenna turned to Sasha again. “We’re just going to check in with the Clarks. Then she’s all yours.”

  “Oh, okay then.”

  Danielle caught both the look of confusion and the silent exchange between the women that said all would be explained later. The thought ran through her mind that the two might be lovers, but she blamed the idea on the locker incident and waved it away.

  “This way,” Jenna said. She turned and headed for the door at a pace that surprised Danielle and left her a few strides behind before she’d even started moving. She hurried to catch up and followed Jenna to a sleek Acura that looked brand new. Between the suit and the car Danielle couldn’t help but wonder if her new boss was very well off, but there was something about her demeanor that seemed to indicate she’d seen rough times.

  The moment they each closed their doors Jenna maneuvered out of her jacket so she was only in a silk cream-colored blouse.

  “Hope you don’t mind,” she said. “Humidity kills me.”

  “Of course not.” Danielle caught herself looking at Jenna’s arms in some kind of aesthetic admiration that she wouldn’t label attraction, but that she couldn’t explain. The temperature gauge showed seventy-five degrees, enough to be uncomfortable, but nowhere near the heat a bad Memphis summer could bring. Jenna started the car and zipped out of the parking lot. Soon they were cruising at a smooth sixty miles per hour along a winding road surrounded by lush green woods on either side.

  “So,” Jenna said. “How’d you end up at CPS?”

  “Oh, I’ve always wanted to work in this field, help kids. I finished my degree and was lucky enough to get hired on my first try. It almost felt too easy, come to think of it. I kind of thought I’d have to work a bunch of other jobs I didn’t like first.”

  “Don’t count your chickens.” Jenna opened the sunroof.

  “What do you mean?”

  “This could turn out to be one of those jobs you don’t like.”

  Danielle’s nerves jolted. “You don’t like it?”

  “No, I do. A lot of people don’t, though.”

  “Why is that?”

  “You’re going to get called a baby snatcher a lot. People think you get commissions for every child you remove. And the kids you’re helping, they won’t all want help, you know? Maybe you’re taking them from an abuser and putting them with a loving family, but they won’t understand that for another decade sometimes. All they know now is you’re taking them from Mom.” Jenna glanced over at her. “It’s just not for everyone.”

  “Sounds hard.”

  “Sure, but the ones that really break your heart are the ones you have to leave behind. The ones you know are being hurt but you can’t put together a strong enough case.”

  “Does that happen a lot?”

  “Depends on the caseworker. We’re going to do our best to train you well enough it never happens.”

  Danielle nodded and looked out the window. She’d been warned about most of this already, but it was somehow different to hear it from someone who actually did the job.

  Jenna’s gentle voice brought her back to the moment. “I’m not trying to scare you off,” she said. “I’m sure it’ll be a great fit. I just wanted to warn you it’s harder for some people than others. If it’s hard for you, don’t panic. You can always talk to me or one of the other supervisors.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Probably not the best welcome aboard speech I could have made.”

  Danielle laughed and glanced across the car again. “No, it’s good to know up front.”

  “So what about outside of work? Significant other? Kids?”

  “Nope.”

  “Ah.” Jenna adjusted the air conditioning. Danielle held back a chuckle, discreetly glancing at the open sunroof. “Well, that’s simple.”

  “Yeah,” Danielle said. She cringed as the conversation threatened to go stale. She forced herself to smile. “What about you?”

  “No girlfriend. No kids. I live with my mom and my sister right now. It’s not exactly a lady-killer kind of situation.” Jenna flashed a dazzling smile and winked.

  Danielle felt a rush of heat and knew she was blushing. She looked away and tried to stifle the surprising reaction. She very much doubted Jenna had a hard time with women with those eyes and her killer body.

  “It’s nice you’re close with your family,” she said.

  Jenna shrugged. “I’m not sure how close we really are. It’s more out of necessity.”

  “Really? Necessity? But you must make good money as a supervisor.” Danielle said it before it occurred to her how inappropriate it was to bring up Jenna’s income, but Jenna didn’t miss a beat.

  “I haven’t been a supervisor long enough to even know what that paycheck looks like yet, but it’s not a money issue. My mom is schizophrenic. She can’t really live alone, and my sister is twenty, hasn’t quite made it out of the nest yet.”

  “Oh God,” Danielle said. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. That was…” Danielle trailed off and Jenna started laughing.

  “Don’t worry about it. No big deal.”

  Danielle hadn’t expected such a personal revelation, and she felt strange now she hadn’t offered more of an answer about her own family. She searched for a natural way to circle back around to a better answer, but Jenna was pulling over before she settled on anything. She stopped in front of a three-story apartment complex. The grass was littered with kids’ toys, bicycles, lawn chairs, and beer bottles.

  “Ready?” Jenna asked.

  “Sure.”

  “We’re just checking in on them, observing the conditions, making sure the kids are in good health.”

  Jenna spun toward an urgent tap on her window. She smiled and opened the car door.

  “Hey, Raylon! How’s it going, my friend?”

  “Ms. Thompson! What’d you bring me?”

  Danielle smiled at the genuine warmth in both their voices and hurried out of the car to get a look at their visitor. She circled the car and saw Jenna fanning out a collection of candy bars for a young black boy to choose from. His clothes were much too big for him, most likely hand-me-downs, but he looked otherwise clean, nourished, and happy. He grabbed a candy bar and started to pull, attempting to discreetly slip a second one out of Jenna’s hand with it.

  “No way, José.”

  “Aw, come on Ms. Thompson. Please?”

  “You been doing well in school?”

  “Yes.”

  “No, he hasn’t,” another voice sounded from behind them. Jenna and Danielle both spun. A second, older black boy was approaching.

  “Hey, Deon.”

  “Hey, Ms. T.” The boy walked over and casually pulled Jenna into a hug. Their obvious closeness surprised Danielle and made her feel out of place.

  “That true, Raylon?” Jenna turned back to the younger boy who couldn’t be more than eight.

  “No. He’s a liar.”

  “Nuh-uh. You never do your homework.”

  “Do too!”

  “Copying your friends doesn’t count.”

  “I don’t!”

  “All right, all right,” Jenna interrupted. She fanned the candy bars in front of Deon for him to choose. He shook his head.

  “Nah.”

  “Grownups like candy too, Deon.”

  He scanned the candy and reluctantly grabbed one. “Thanks.”

  Jenna nodded and waved Danielle closer. “Guys, this is Ms. Corey. She’s going to be coming with me from now on.”

  Danielle felt blinded by the sudden spotlight, but she stepped closer to Jenna’s side and waved at each of them. “Nice to meet you.”

  “Why?” Deon asked sharply.

  “She’s in training.” Jenna smiled at Danielle. “Teaching her everything I know.”r />
  Danielle detected nervousness, maybe even fear in Deon’s dark glare. His body said he was no older than fifteen, but his gaze felt years older. He broke the eye contact and looked back to Jenna.

  “You dumping us on the new girl?”

  “Of course not,” Jenna said.

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.” Jenna stared at him. “How are things?” The question was casual, but her quiet, deep tone communicated the more serious implication.

  Deon waited a long second before answering. “They’re okay.”

  Jenna nodded. “Come on. Let’s go see your mom.”

  Raylon skipped toward the stairwell while Deon stood staring at Jenna another long moment. The contrast in their reaction was intriguing, and Danielle felt paralyzed by whatever was transpiring between Jenna and Deon. Jenna seemed to communicate with her eyes a lot, and Danielle wondered if she’d ever learn to speak the language. Jenna glanced back at Danielle and discreetly nodded at Raylon’s disappearing silhouette, then led them after him. Danielle fell in stride next to Deon, a few paces behind Jenna.

  “She walks fast,” Deon said.

  “I’m noticing that,” Danielle said with a smile.

  “This your first day or something?”

  “It is, actually.”

  Deon smirked. “Thought so.”

  “Manners,” Jenna said over her shoulder. They came to a thin wooden door that had fresh damage at the bottom. Whatever caused the impact hadn’t gone all the way through, but splintered and cracked the wood.

  “What’s this?” Jenna asked.

  Deon shrugged. “Don’t know.”

  Jenna tilted her head in silent admonition.

  “I don’t. Came home and it was like that.”

  Jenna nodded at the door. Deon opened it and let them in. Danielle felt the poverty the moment they stepped inside. It wasn’t the old television or the broken table or the stained surfaces, it was the anxiety in the air. It was the way the whole house seemed to hold its breath. Danielle felt the need to exercise discretion as she evaluated the home, but quickly noticed Jenna did not. She openly surveyed every corner.

  A clatter and series of thumps sounded at the door. “God damn it, son of a bitch. Deon!” A husky female voice dripping with the syrup of a thick Southern accent filled the apartment.

  Deon skimmed over Danielle for a reaction before he hurried toward the door.

  “That’ll be his mom,” Jenna said.

  A short, heavy woman waddled into the room. Her weight rocked back and forth as she battled the grocery bags in her arms. Deon trailed after her with the last of the groceries.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped at Jenna.

  Jenna glanced at her watch. “We were scheduled for a nine o’clock visit.”

  “You shouldn’t be in my house without me here.”

  “I apologize for startling you,” Jenna said. “I didn’t realize you weren’t home. The boys just let us in a moment ago.”

  “You shouldn’t be in here without me,” the woman repeated.

  “Neither should the boys, Ms. Clark.”

  Her brows dug into her face in anger. “You need to leave.” She gave up on the grocery bags and dropped them on the floor. “I called down there and told them I wanted to reschedule.”

  “I tried to call you back and discuss the problem, but you never answered.”

  “So you just show up uninvited?”

  “Again, I apologize for the inconvenience, but you know we can’t just come over on an invitation basis. It’s required you adhere to these visits.”

  Ms. Clark’s eyes burned into Jenna with a fury. She finally shook her head. “I’ll never understand why you all have to treat people this way. I just don’t understand it.” She started to gather the handles of the grocery bags. When no one answered, she let go of the bags again. The plastic slowly drooped with the weight of the contents and lazily slouched to settle on the floor.

  “And who the hell are you lurking over there?” Ms. Clark turned her fiery gaze to Danielle.

  Jenna was speaking for her before Danielle could even shake off the shock. “Ms. Clark, I’d like to introduce you to—”

  “Yeah, yeah, nice to meet you. Can we get on with it?”

  There was a slight tremor in Danielle’s hands, a sudden layer of sweat on her palms. She hated that something so simple had triggered an adrenaline response. She couldn’t be so easily shaken and had never thought she was that way before.

  “How have Raylon’s and Deon’s school reports been?” Jenna asked evenly.

  “Raylon has an F in math,” Deon said from the corner.

  “Do not!” Raylon yelled from upstairs.

  “Do so!”

  “And you’re not doing any better, are you?” Ms. Clark snapped.

  Jenna turned to Deon and waited.

  “Yeah, but my math teacher is a prick,” he said.

  Ms. Clark’s gaze locked on to Deon with intimidating intensity. “Boy, you watch your mouth. Go put these groceries away.”

  Deon grabbed a single bag and silently left the room. Ms. Clark circled around to the couch and looked over her shoulder at the cushions a couple of times before she fell back and landed with a loud creak. Jenna was quiet until Deon was out of earshot, then directed her attention back to Ms. Clark.

  “Have you considered a tutor?”

  “They’re not stupid; they’re lazy,” she said. “And I don’t have money for that anyway.”

  “There are programs we could help them get started in.”

  “Won’t help if they won’t go. Deon wants to drop out when he turns sixteen.”

  “I see. He didn’t mention that.”

  “Don’t know why he would,” Ms. Clark said. “You’re not his mother.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Ms. Thompson, I’ve had a very long week, and I haven’t been feeling well. If we could please make this a short visit. As you can see, the boys are in perfect health. They’ve got a roof over their heads and food in the fridge. Hell, they’ve even got a PlayStation. But they’re young boys in the projects. Getting them to care about school is a lost cause, and it’s hardly grounds for you to camp out in my front yard like I’m some kind of criminal.”

  “I’m not calling you a criminal, Ms. Clark. I’m here to put you in touch with resources that will help Raylon and Deon thrive. I don’t doubt they’re fed and clothed, but they’ll need an education to be successful.”

  “Can’t force them to learn.”

  “How’s their attendance?”

  “How should I know? They leave in the morning, and they come home in the afternoon. I guess they’re going to school.”

  “Has the school notified you of any unexcused absences?”

  “Phone was shut off.”

  “We can help you with that too.”

  “You going to cut me a check?”

  “No, there are pro—”

  Ms. Clark’s shoulders were rounded heaps that started bouncing up and down as she laughed. “Another program. We don’t want your programs. Then you’ll be coming over here until the end of time. We just want to be left alone.”

  “There’s also the matter of the damage to the front door,” Jenna said.

  “What about it?”

  “It needs to be fixed.”

  “What makes you think I have money for that?”

  “Ms. Clark, I understand money is tight; that’s why I’ve offered to put you in touch with resources that can assist you. Whatever you choose to do, though, you are responsible for providing a safe and secure home for these boys. Not having money is not an acceptable answer.”

  Danielle was captivated by the display, watching Jenna shift back and forth between understanding and firm. Even having no experience watching anyone else work, she had a feeling she was watching someone with considerable skill.

  “It is secure.” Ms. Clark sat forward, resting her arms on her knees and glancing at the cigarettes on
the table in front of her. “Still locks, just ugly is all.”

  “It’s broken nearly through.”

  “It’s as safe as any other door. Someone wants to break it they’re going to break it, fixed or not.”

  “It needs to be fixed by our next visit. It’s a requirement.”

  Ms. Clark shot to her feet with agility her gait moments before suggested she did not possess. “Or else what? Why are you doing this to me? You don’t even have a reason to be coming over here anymore. Those boys are perfectly fine.”

  “After the seriousness of the accusations that brought us here, we’re required to carry out recurrent visits.”

  Ms. Clark grabbed the edge of the coffee table and flung it across the room like it was made of paper. Liquid from a cup that was on it sprinkled Danielle’s face, and she flinched at the unexpected crash.

  “Those accusations were bullshit! My boys already told you so! Nobody laid a hand on ’em!”

  “The conditions we found were unacceptable,” Jenna said. “And this is not the way to get the visits to stop, Ladona.”

  Ms. Clark looked jarred by the use of her first name and closed the distance between herself and Jenna. She moved so she was inches away from Jenna’s face like she was going to fight her. Danielle reached in her pocket and produced her phone. Jenna silently motioned for her to wait.

  “The visits are never going to stop anyway,” Ladona said. “You’ll make sure of that, won’t you? You’ll always find something to bitch about! This time it’s the door. Next time it will be something else. You’re never going to leave us the fuck alone! You’ve already decided you’re taking my boys from me one way or another, haven’t you? Just because we’re poor? You think telling me I have to come up with the money is going to make money fall from the sky? You don’t know shit about not having money, little girl!”

  Jenna held her ground, not moving an inch despite Ladona’s lips nearly touching hers. She waited. Ladona’s eyes were wide and bulging. She was still leaning forward, as if to make sure she’d have leverage if it did become physical, as if the extra hundred and fifty pounds she had on Jenna wasn’t enough. Finally, her posture seemed to relax slightly even though she didn’t back away.

  “Mama, Ms. Thompson could have taken us away a long time ago if she wanted.” Deon’s voice came quietly from the door frame that connected the living room to the dining room. She spun toward him.

 

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