Rise and Shine!

Word Count: 8463

         Sean O’Malley blew it.
         The red head’s freckled face flashed fancy at the fools of the world. He was one of them. Thick-headed, with an unusual skull structure protruding in the right corner of his forehead. Brutish + bold. His beard was six days old from a trim + beginning to get cotton-eyed. At 6’2, with his off-set nose, he might have resembled a much taller and leaner Eli Wallach, aka the Ugly.
         By no means timid, but O’Malley knew when to hold his tongue. He was understated in his intelligence. He graduated at the top of his class. It’s true that Sean used certain vocabulary that might lose some, but otherwise he seemed so…ordinary + plain. A brighter audience, however, would recognize his subtle yet brilliant use of paradox, irony, + sarcasm. His linguistics were simply superior to those around him. By these means Sean could endear himself to two circles: the inteligencia (for he was widely read + highly cultured) + the on-the-ground unassuming working man. If you weren’t on his level, he might appear as just anyone’s nobody.
         The paradoxes of Sean’s life emerged from that lop-sided battle of mind vs. manner. Truth-be-told, he had been tracked since kindergarden with the idea that he would become a top tier professor, with his pick of a tenure-track position at any Ivy League of his choosing. Sean’s forte was thought. But idealism bit him in the behind: he would earn a BA in Sociology + MSW, too. He would commit to the plight of the people, as he saw it. A non-violent Che Guevarra, if you would. He framed his choices in grand revolutionary terms.
         But how did he get there? He had been arguably the quietest student at his high school. And he had always felt uncomfortable with that. True, his academic record spoke volumes to his aptitudes, and he made a few splashes on cross-country + track. It’s not to say he was nobody, but…ah there we go again, the “nobody.” “Ugly “ forged in yellow tar over the crevices of his crooked teeth. His inherent talent never exactly lent itself to materialize by means of successful human interaction. A disquieting disconnect.
         Sean was 20 years in now, had worked with hundreds of clients, yet wasn’t sure if he had much to show for it. That’s not to say he wasn’t proud. Nonsense. He had risen to become the director of a subsidiary of his organizations, (Rise + Shine!), and now carried real responsibility in terms of the direction his outreach would look like. In addition there was his salary (as good as he’d ever see), a pension plan, cozy vacation time (3 weeks) and ample paid time off for what he called his “private lows.”
         Sean’s clients were mostly lower-middle class men who experienced chronic, severe mental illness who often found themselves street homeless. The work of Sean’s program, Here For You, was to identify, interview, + investigate the plight of the clients. To go from debt, to a steady pay from a job, to a good year’s plus of savings to secure a place is difficult enough, though a somewhat linear process. It would be mostly a question of reliable income, consistent budgeting, and making a match with the right place. Not the
         Not the case at Here For You. To begin, most clients’ status quo circumstance would be a history of hospitalizations, a child’s handful of odd jobs, and sporadic stays at hotels across the county. That latter part shook Sean’s nerves to the core to this day. These sites, often dens for drugs + prostitution, could present anything and Sean had seen it all. Needles, wrinkled out harlots, and the occasional violent rage. Police calls would fit on both of those child’s hands.
         Keep in mind, that was just the outreach phase, the bare beginnings of the work. Building trsut, just trust, to open up a doorway of mutual understanding often took months, if not a year, to cement. Then the “real” work could begin, but not without hospitalizations, relapses, + arrests. Ultimate success rates + retention probably hung around 22%. For every five men that a were visited by Here For You, four would remain in similar circumstances, typically util an untimely death. An violence was often perpetrated by those individuals. Were bruisings O’Malley’s future?
         It’s true, Sean had his house, wife, kids, and two gerbils. He appreciated the mobility offered by his beige Elantra. It certainly beat his traversions by foot throughout grad school. And could he manage his own mental illness in any other job sector? There was much to be grateful for. And, intellectually, he could conclude he was doing noble work. Emotionally + as a lived experience though? Not so much.
         Sean O’Malley had worked up the nerve to attend his 10th anniversary high school reunion. It was at the local dive bar, Tacky’s. Days old Yeungling filled his nostrils. Somewhat repugnant + alluring at the same time. Well, it had been a tough day at the office. Mitch Ratchum, a chronically homeless client, attacked Sean in his hotel room while high on meth. The visit had been meant to be a quick “hello.” That was all. Now after hours Sean could relax + take a breather. He already knew he would walk home.
         O’Malley made his way to a corner spot at the bar and immediately ordered a beer+ a shot, his local pasttime favorite. He downed it + ordered another. Looking at himself in the mirror he saw this had shiner had become a golden brown hue shade of purple. “Godamit why couldn’t he have kicked me in the balls” thought Sean.
         What Sean didn’t realize was that he was qu earning street cred with the class. He was their valedictorian and his appearance made a quaint mysterious element fill his corner of the room. That silent man reputation had cultivated oozed secretions of desire to his audience to finally now what the guy was about. One rumor had circled that he had been Elon Musk’s right hand man. Scotch Mist was determined to find out.
         Two hours in + Sean had spoke with no one. Big surprise. He was eight drinks in now. Funny how he handled his liquor. Occassionally it lubricated him enough to talk a bit more, bust mostly he withdrew into an intellectual + existential abyss. Tonight was that kind of night. In fact, he was at the point of exiting the whole scene when he felt a strong grip his shoulder. Sean immediately turned around. “Two shots of bourbon, señor!” yelled Scotch Mist.          Actually almost completely flabbergasted, Sean nearly rocked off his chair. Scotch + Sean had run cross-country together as competitive JV. They were both alike in that they had both been known for their hard work + accomplishments, promising futures. What is more, Scotch was almost as tall as Sean + must have been twice as ugly.
“Which Kardashian did you” rescue to get here, Scott?” Sean’s jaw was fully agape as he stared at the still lanky Scotch, hair bleached blonde + cropped short, wife beater + baggy bottoms. “I’ll give you a hint. What was my screenname on AIM? SLIM!” “I’m fucking Slim Shady due. Am I right to say you got Caitlyn waiting in your bed?”
         Sean’s jaw dropped further. Unless he had been drugged, Scotch’s joe started to dawn on him. Finally embracing his peripheral he swore he could see Ellen DeGeneres, George W. Bush, + Kobe Bryant. “Scott…Disick…?” Mist interogated him now as though he were an infant.
“Well you haven’t changed much, have you? What you too good for us now that you’re inventing factory robots with Tesla?”
         For a split second Sean was mildly amused. “Is that what this is about? Well, no, actually I’m a Social Worker for the Homeless of Jones County. My client fought me today.” They took their shot, and off Mist went.
         That was ten years ago. Not much had changed, but it was safe to say Sean did not attend the 20th anniversary with his newly modified dad bod + no woman on his arm.


“Hey Sean,” spoke Lynette Mitchell, director of the entire Rise + Shine program, “You got a new hire coming in tomorrow.”
“Sounds good Lynette,” replied Sean. “What can you tell me about them?”
“Well, her name is Alex. She’s fresh out of grad school so she carries her MSW. She’s going for licensure at the moment. Actually spent three years over in LA out of college volunteering. Started out with AmeriCorps assisting the homeless. Her year long commitment turned into three.”
“Oh wow, excellent. That is golden experience for us here.”
“Yup, thought that might put a smile on your face,” laughed Lynette.
“Well I certainly won’t be crying.”
“Yeah I got a good feeling about this one. She’s bright, energetic, and oh boy does she have stories.”
         Sean stifled a condescending snort of which Lynette missed. Sean didn’t care much for war stories. In fact, he found it them to be destructive. Social work was about resource centralization as far as he was concerned. He was very protective of his clients but didn’t quite connect with the notion of opening up any cans of worms professionally. Who didn’t have stories? There was no glory to the job + he had no desire to “know” the Rise + Shine program. Heck, he had been working with Mitch for ten years + still didn’t know his dog’s name. It just didn’t matter. He didn’t care to cross those lines. No, his mission was to secure his clients’ housing + that was that. That was the mission he had signed up for and while it may not have been glorious, he knew it was N noble.
“Does that work for you then?” “Sean?”
         Sean snapped out of his intellectual musings. “Of course Lynette.”
“So you’ll be ready?”
“Wait, what?”
“Goddamit Jonathan,” Lynette mock sighed. “You still reading all of that Russian stuff?”
“I plead the fifth,” he replied, with a crooked smile.
“Well don’t be scaring Alex off with that Dotoynazi of whatever,” she laughed. “What am I gonna do with you?”
         And so it was. Sean was ready for a new team player, but not particularly enthusiastic one way or the other. In his 20+ ears with the agency he had literally seen dozens of wide-eyed youth take a stab at the entry-level position. It was a stepping stone. The majority came in with a BA ready to get their advanced degree and/or encounter the very real frustration + burnout that came with the territory. These types were alright enough but complete training often took six months and about 80% of those were gone within the 12 month marker.
         Sean often pondered over this situation. Did this system work effectively? Was it conducive to meeting the needs of clients? For Christ’s sake he could no longer even count the punctuation + grammar errors he counted on the weekly. “Ah, so I am that ivory tower professor, aren’t I?” laughing a cynical, mirthless gasp sigh. Sean had signed up to be with the people. To be on the streets. He knew his mission. He only climbed Rise + Shine’s ladder. as $30k/year would just never cut it. He was still vastly underpaid but could at least adorn his multiple lonely apartments it multiple bookshelves with the brooding company of all his the great Russian writers. The stories that mattered.
         Anyway, Sean knew his professional commitments + was more than willing to oblige Lynette; that was his duty whether he liked it or not. He immediately allocated his entire day’s schedule to Alex including an allotted fifteen minute window to allow her some tardiness. He had learned to “love” lateness as as there was always paperwork + documentation to be done.
         So when Sean had heard a rap tap tapping knock on his door at quarter to nine he was actually flabbergasted. “Wonder who that could be?” he half joked to himself as he finished his last sip of Dunkin hazelnut coffee, light and sweet. As a general rule Sean avoided any + every franchise, they hurt small business he felt, but he simply could not resist what he liked to call his morning crack. He could often elicit at least mildly amused smiles with his quips, but he was never really sure if staffers appreciated his semifrequent spews of self-deprecation.
“Come on in!” he shouted softly, “doors unlocked, as if somehow it wouldn’t be.
As the door swung open, Sean actually had to contain himself a little.
“Hi, my name is Alex!”
“Oh, um, hi there, Alex! Good timing. It’s nice to meet you.” Sean replied, putting away random private paperwork.”          I’ve heard good things about you and it’s a pleasure to have you on the team!”
“Thank you! Lyette has been great to me ever since our interview although I know you are my go-to point of contact from here on out, boss.”
         Sean went red in the face. Alex appeared to be as sincere as they came and yet his inner cnic could have sworn she were being sarcastic. “Oh you don’t need to call me that, Alex. Sean is just fine,” adapting his reassuring social worker voice. “Put ‘er there,” extending his hand.
         Alex earnestly shook Sean’s hands and he instantly felt her commitment. What a relief, he thought. Sean had worked with wack jobs, apatethic loafers, and imbeciles. So far he couldn’t place her in any of those categories, but one could never really tell.
“I understand you have your MSW + even some field experience?” he offered her a chance to talk about herself a little.
“That’s right!” she answered gleefully. “In Cali! My uncle housed me and it was the greatest thing ever!”
         Sean almost snorted. Where were her battle scars? Sense of near-victimization by the system? Secondary trauma inheritance? She seemed so…unfazed. He realized, then, that he was dealing with that fourth of social worker: the bleeding heart. He settled into his chair more easily, knowing he could be a protective force against burn-out for her.
“…and that was how we completed that. You should totally check it out when you get the chance!” as Alex confidently put her hand on her hip.
         Sean was unsure of what she had been talking about as he watched her comb back her log, black curly hair with the other hand. At 5’7” and with just the slightest few pounds of extra weight, she was far from a diminutive figure. It was safe to say Sean was more or less content, if not prepared for her to begin to impress him.
         While Sean worked on paperwork he left Alex to read his Rise + Shine’s policies + guidelines. HE was a stickler for the rules and was known to reread the book biannually. He knew this approach served the clientele best.
         After a couple hours of unadulterated silence, Sean realized he had almost completely forgotten about his new teammate. He stepped out of his fluorescent fueled office to find Alex on the couch office’s couch, in the corner, with a half cup of cold, creamy coffee at her feet. It seemed that the company’s manual had not satisfied her.
         Sean made a point to close his door loud enough to jolt her up hard. She didn’t like it, but quickly composed herself upon seeing her new boss’ disconcerted face.
“Sorry about that Alex; paperwork duty called. Just another day of social work.”
“Oh I bet Sean, I am so sure. Is everything OK?” she asked in her soothing cultivated social worker voice, aiming to please him by faux skimming the manual. She eyed the first section that came to her mind. “I found the discussion on word choice fascinating.” She looked down again. “Would clients care to be called a harlot vs. prostitute? And could one you say that using houseless vs. homeless silly, if not patronizing?”
         Sean stood silent. Not quite the response he had expected. He had compiled the manual; probably about as close as he’d ever get to his own manifesto. And he was protector of it all, including the semantics.
“We’ll discuss later, Alex. For now I’m most focused on communication procedures. So how about a two-question quiz. How long do you have to respond to texts and how long before you have to take action on specific actions?”
         There was a stunned moment a lá deer in the headlights. But just as Alex began to compose herself, Lynette walked in.
“There she is! How we doing gang? Sean reteaching you the alphabet Alex?” laughing “this guy’ll be preaching Cold War politics if you aren’t comfortable. Put that silly booklet away. You got plenty of time to learn how to pour a cup of coffee, ‘ain’t that right Sean?” nudging him as his eyes went downcast.
“Just keep it light + sweet with extra French Vanilla,” he retorted dryly.
         Lynette nodded + smiled approvingly. “This guy’s got a joke for everything, Alex! Gotta love him. Rest assured you are in good hands.”
         Alex let out a muted sigh of relief. She felt that she was with good folk, and certainly did not want to let them down. The fact of the matter was that she had just arrived into Newark Liberty two nights earlier, and the jet lag was still catching up with her.
“Well I think that’s all we got for you today, Alex. It’s about lunch time. We got a diner next door and the owner is friendly with us. Drop our name and you might even get a discount.”
“Oh that sounds great, Lynette. I think I’m going to head back to my uncle’s place + review this manual. I have a lot to learn.”
That a girl, Alex,” Sean replied, reassured by her verbal commitment. “You won’t learn everything over night, so do be patient with yourself. Don’t forget to put a movie on, maybe grab some popcorn. I’m a sucker for the History Channel myself. This alien stuff is getting to be a bit much, though,” chuckling.
“Like I said, Alex” Lynette followed up, “you’re with the brainiac of Rise + Shine! Sean is our Lynne Chomty as he likes to call himself. He may or may not teach you the job, but you’ll certainly pick up a thing or two on global politics under his wing. ¡Viva la revolución!, right Sean?”
         Sean had a Che joke in there, but resisted the urge. He was also prepared to defend *Noam Chomsky* to the very ends of his intellect, but figured it would be to no avail. He fumed internally at this perceived ignorance, but had to let it go. He would review his Marxist readings ton that evening to assuage his hurt pride. So much for general knowledge he sighed to himself as he walked Lynette escort Alex out the door.
         Tomorrow was another day.
         The alien had landed. As Alex pulled her brown Range Rover into the Rise + Shine parking lot she saw Sean with his hands rubbing each other in a clasp, anticipating her arrival.
“Good morning, Alex! Welcome back,” Sean exclaimed enthusiastically.
“Thans Sean. How are you this morning?”
“Very well, thanks. Have you had your coffee yet?”
         Alex cracked a shy smile as she took out her extra large, pink floral Starbucks mug.
“Got my morning crack!” she laughed. Sean remained stiff.
“Ok, well I hope you were reading the manual last night because today we’re going in the field.
         The truth was that Alex hadn’t eve cracked a page she had been too busy unpacking + spending time with her uncle.
“We’ll take it slow today, of course. I was thinking I could drive you around to the hot spots: shelters, soup kitchens, drop-in centers, and *maybe.* Maybe. If we have time, maybe we can visit a client.”
         These opening days with new colleagues always gave Sean heartburn. So much could go wrong. Alex could get bored, daydream, or just not get on board with the almighty mission. He always got concerned, regardless of the new employee, and Alex was no exception. He had no opinion of her yet, despite Lynette’s strong support. He had seen handfuls of case workers come and go, some on worse terms than others. It was a revolving door of burn-out, opportunities, and incompetence. No, despite all outward professional courtesy, Sean would be keeping a steady eye on Alex for some time.

         The autumn breeze crept in through the half-cracked windows with the sights and smells of fall foliage in full gear. Alex hadn’t been immersed in Jersey like this in her years away in Cali and was enthralled. She felt h er own soul stir bright colors of red, yellow, + gold.
“You mind if I put on on some KR89.3, Alex?” asked Sean.
         Alex nodded her assent as the swinging melodies of jazz piano blasted out at her. Trills and scales mounted against one another, and smooth rhythms kept her attention focused on the unfolding composition. Sean looked over to see her gaze locked in with the patterns of the music.
“Do you know who this is?” Sean asked.
“No, who?” replied Alex.
“Haven’t a clue. But that’s not the point of this station for me. No, it’s not a pop 100 station. That may be more of your generation’s persuasion.”
         Alex bit her lips because she had just been at a Phish concert before returning to the East Coast. But, even she knew when to stay quiet.
“It might be something for you to learn about, Alex. This music keeps me chill and thrilled, throughout the day.”
         As Sean exited the thoroughway that had sustained them for the past five miles now began to transition into a slightly more developed neighborhood. They were on their way to the hub of the county: Irondale, a very, very big small town. Looking around, Alex saw all the typical chains of these bougie towns: Starbucks, Chipotle, Mango Juices, etc. Anyway, she appreciated them all, as well as the independent locales of the area. But, again, she listened.
“Over here is St. Barnabus: it operates a drop-in soup kitchen from about 9 a.m. all the way until almost 1! It’s a safe spot where some of our clients go for a breakfast, or lunch, clothing assistances, linkage to counseling services, job opportunities, or simply to argue over a game of checkers. It’ll become like a second home to you Alex, I swear.”
         Alex continued to struggle with Sean’s humor. On the one hand he seemed to deliberately drag down the tone of a conversation with something bordering on sardonic…nihilism? At the same time, there always seemed to be a wisdom provoked within his utterances. She sat confused and decided not to judge her boss. He had her back, after all. Instead, she twiddled her packs pod vape in her right pocket, withstanding the temptation to puff.
         The two exited Rise + Shine’s company vehicle and crossed the street to arrive at the church’s side door. Several middle-aged men with long, grey beards stared at Alex. One stroked his midnight black-died mustache. She made eye contact with the latter and he did not look away. Alex made a friendly smile at the guy, at which point he turned to the group, with cackling laughter reverberating through the alleyway immediately after.
“You’re new blood,” smirked Sean.
“Well I hope they like my style,” she replied, “they’ll be with me for a while.”
         That a girl, Sean thought to himself. He couldn’t make anything of her just yet, but this morning he knew was his own quiet evaluation of her. For example, he chuckled to himself as she smiled at Mike’s crew. Most of them were mildly alcoholic, some of them had homes paid for by the state, and all of them loved women. With an adolescent passion. As far as he was concerned, her smile was an invitation to be harassed. He decided that he might comment on this to her at the end of the day.
         Inside the church auditorium bustled with activity. The two had nodded curtly at Bob, a big black man providing security. He instantly recognized Sean and stared blankly at Alex. To the right upon entering was a big stage full of cardboard boxes of donated clothes, a few books, and hygiene supplies.
“Clients love these donations,” Sean said, “to the point that when their needs are met, they still come up and grab. Every. Single. Day.”
“Well, that’s what they’re there for, right?” Alex replied, casually.
“Of course,” said Jonathan, although he was taken aback interiorly. He didn’t often get replies to that line by newcomers. “I just meant that perhaps these donations could be distributed more effectively across the towns. We don’t need gangs of big plain white t’s wearing men take over this town.”
         Alex laughed falsely. She could care less what the clientele wore and how much of it they owned. But she figured today was a day to learn, and she did not want to read too deeply into a passing comment.
“Ah, now here he is, the man of the hour…it’s Mr. Mike! How are you boss?
“Eh, same ‘ol same ‘ol. Still lookin out for some of them [name of town] girls, ya know?”
Sean stayed silent. He loved Mr. Mike, but never really got his banter. Alex stood idly by.
“Ah, well of course you do.” Sean said dismissively. Mr. Mike noticed and shuffled his feet. Noticing the tension, Alex decided to introduce herself.
“Mr. Mike, was it?” she asked.
“You got it,” he replied proudly. “Born and raised in Yonkers, home of the dogs, DMX, and a good bong.”
“I see,” she said with a smile. “And tell me, how long have you been with Rise + Shine?”
“Well first of all, why can’t it be Rise + Dine? That’s what we do out here in these streets every day you know Alex? Places like St. Barnabus keep my belly fat. So I’m a happy man. What can I say? But how long…oh I don’t know it could be two weeks, or twenty years. Couldn’t tell ya.”
“It’s going on six years in November, Mr. Mike,” said Sean.
“See this guy is a total freak of nature sometimes. I’ll be asking him how to restore my food stamps and he’ll tell me I have 600 unspent dollars. I tell him my insurance is lapsing, he gets me better coverage! He’s a goofy freak and I love him.”
“I think, you’re, cool. Too. Mr. Mike. Listen, I want to show Alex around more of this place, but we’ll be in touch, ok?”
“Alright my captain. Steer the ship right, hang tight, and don’t get too loose or I’ll hang a noose! JUST KIDDING. That is not suicidal ideation. I love this life and I love my country and I did not have sexual relations with Monica Lewinsky.” A couple young guys had flocked around Mr. Mike at this point and egged him on. “Nah, Alex, none of yous two short kids either get my humor, do you?”
“Let’s head over here, Alex,” said Sean. Sra. Vasquez offers free Spanish lessons upstairs.”
         The temperatures began to drop as the work day wound down. A lonely gust of wind blew the neat piles of leaves across the main street of Irondale. Passersby continued walking huskily, gripping their jackets as their own futile attempt at sparing themselves the cold.
         Sean dropped Alex back to headquarters, a quiet departure from each other. She had given him a big smile as she alighted and he gave her his traditional thumbs up after a new case worker’s first day. As she walked away, he breathed his own sigh of relief. The fact of the matter was…Alex had done pretty well. She was polite, undisturbed, and even managed to banter and humor the crowd. I mean, what more would you want from a first day out? He shared a few encouraging words with Lynette on the day and made his way home.
         It was Thursday night. His favorite night. Trivia night. No MSNBC binges, no revolutionary reading, just him, the quiz master, and some of his least favorite tunes. Yes, this was his night. As he entered McFarley’s he took his usual seat in the corner, next to the bathroom, and facing the door. He was a team of one: YOLO SOLO. Third place would be a bad night for him. Second felt good, and first meant that his tab would be covered. He coveted his greasy mozzarella sticks, of course, and if he won, he would spread the joy of his free meal over to a blueberry cheesecake with a bold espresso. The simple pleasures.
         Sean ordered his regular beverage, a diet coke, without a thought to the notion of a drink. He hadn’t touched one since the high school reunion, and was happy in that knowledge. Slim had really scared him that night. Was a _______ graduate really meant to look that bad? To be that way? Weren’t they the lions? Courageous kings of society tending to the rest of the jungle? That’s how he had always thought about it. Guzzling down the carbonation he reached at his own gut, he saw his fuzzy reflection gawk at him in the glass, and sighed. The first category was sports. He wolfed down his mozzarella sticks, guzzled his drink, and called it a night. His partner Sarah would be waiting in bed for him, limp as a cold fish. Sean pitifully laughed at himself, imagining what kind of a captain of any ship Mr. Mike might peg him as.
         Autumn continued to shake off most of the last of its leaves. And Alex had just completed her first week with Rise and Shine!. As was typical for the agency, she would review her experiences and impressions of the job, as well as receive feedback or guidance to any of her pressing questions. Normally this role was assigned to Lynette, but her son had fallen ill and she was nursing his health. Sean O’Malley, ever to the rescue, stepped in with a detached curiosity over Alex’s findings.
“Well, Ms. Alex, you’ve wrapped up your first week. Congratulations, and thank you for your patience during this educational process. Training doesn’t come easy to anybody, take it from me, and I’m sure you have a ton of questions at this point.”
“Thanks, Sean. I want to let you know that I am above and beyond happy. I had given up hope on the culture of this pocket of the country, but really here in the county there is much more possibility and resource access than the tragedies I saw over in Cali. I don’t even know where to begin. I think that I am going to love these clients.”
         That was not quite what Mr. O’Malley had expected to hear. Alex had been quiet. Unusually quiet during the week. Had hardly uttered a word to anybody.
“All righty then. Well I’m glad to hear that. But surely you have some doubts? Some concerns?”
         Alex took a few seconds to gather herself.
“Like I said, I see hope here. And I think a lot of my experiences in Cali are already translating to this position.”
         Wrong answer, Sean thought. After all, she was dealing with lives here! Could she really be so oblivious to the pain and suffering of those around her?
“Do you have any reservations about visiting your clients on site, at their homes…ya know? You’re not protected in all of those spaces.”
         Silence.
“As a young professional it is true that I may find myself in…unexpected situations. For sure! It’s always there in the back of my mind. But I believe that you can find ways to construct preventive tactics. It was a major section of a course in my MSW.”
“And the manual?”
         Alex smiled sheepishly.
         Silence.
“I did have a question for you, Sean.”
         Sean recognized the dodge, and was ready to pounce, but found Alex quickly following up with her thought.
“What are our real goals for these clients? I mean, granted, there is the one client of the year I heard about who is managing part-time entry level work at a school. That’s pretty good! Otherwise, you know, you see Mr. Mike…some of his posse, it just makes me wonder. Are they in a holding pattern? Are we doing enough?”
         Sean squirmed. This concern had never been raised to him. He had never even considered it, in fact. Was this the revolution that he had dreamed about in high school?
“I don’t think I quite understand what you’re getting at there, Alex.”
“I mean, wouldn’t it be nice to see these guys do more than shoot the breeze all day, watching those debate soundbites for hours on end…they then transfer to the shelter for a few hours. Every day I saw them head deep into the parking lot, by the woods, walk away and return a little…tired, or something. You know? There just seems to be all this oversight here on what would construct their reintegration into society.”
“Right.”
         Silence.
“Look, Alex, I love it,” he said through clenched teeth, “you’ve got the spark!” Silence. “But let me tell you, the wick on these candles are wet, ya know what I mean?”
         Oh god, he thought, was that innuendo?
“I don’t think so.”
“I’m trying to tell you that these guys are in a holding pattern most of the time. They’ve burned through a lot of resources: family, friends, money, their bodies, jeez…you have to see things from their perspective.”
         Alex held her tongue back and replied, “ok.”
         Sean was stunned. He had 20 years on her, and he couldn’t help but think that he was talking to a brick wall.
         The clock struck 4 o’clock, and, being the perk of the job, the day was over a hour earlier than most professional arrangements. But, Alex didn’t feel that this conversation was over. Something lingered in the pit of her stomach. After all, homelessness, mental illness, alcoholism, drug abuse…she knew he knew that these were all symptoms of a larger issue. And she was sick of the dismissal. Her face flushed red and she stared Sean down, ever so slightly. He sensed her anger and began to hunch over the awkward showdown of silence.
“Well, Alex, we’ve reached the end of the day here at good ‘ol Rise + Shine! And God knows we’ll need our rest tonight if we are to rise and shine next week. Have a good night? You doing ok?”
“Totally. I love this job and I am going to give our clients everything I’ve got.”
         And she most certainly did.
         As 10 a.m. struck on the Rise + Shine! office wall the following Monday morning, Sean began to grow impatient. Alex was no where to be seen. Probably drunk as a skunk and high in the sky, he thought to himself. He understood that the 20’s were a time of trial and error, but frankly, he didn’t see how Alex could possibly survive in the field. And yet…
         Wasn’t that exactly why he was doing this work in the first place? Was he not exactly the same way when he first entered the field?
“Oh, Sean, my apologies!” Alex cried as she ran in to the office. “My uncle took a minor fall today, and I just wanted to attend to him until I knew he was fine. I’m sorry!”
“Not to worry, Alex. Family first. Even over your Rise + Shine! family, as it were. Just remember the phone next time?? I don’t want to worry like that again!”
“You got it, Sean! You got it.”
“And I trust your uncle is doing ok?”
“Oh, he’s fine, a little shook up and a little pale, but the way he sees it, he’s found himself an excuse to pop and squat to some ESPN sports talk for the day.”
“There’s always a silver lining, my colleague! Always. And today at the office I am asking you to grow, to, rise, and, er, shine if it were.” Silence.
“Yes, Alex, I’ve been talking with Lynette and she has seen your work from afar (she claims, he thought to himself). Well, she wants you out on your own now. I’ve left my own clientele in a solitary hell for the last month on account of you!” Silence.
“Only joking. But I want you to know that Lynette clearly has a lot of faith in you. She appreciates your work experiences and I’ve not had any majorly pressing criticisms of you, either. I think you’ll be fine.”
         Alex did not seem to have a reaction. Perhaps she had anticipated this agency decision. Perhaps she was nervous.
“Sean, it’s an honor. And it just so happens to be Mr. Mike’s birthday. I think that I would like to check in on him.”
“Mr. Mike? Hm…I’ll tell you right off the bat that birthdays are hard for that guy. He won’t be on the streets today. You’ll catch him at the hotel, though.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
         Sean arrived at the Rise + Shine! the next morning, by 8:30, to start a brand new day “saving the world.” What would it be today – a vomit stain on his new leather shoes? A yelling? Condescending street-humor designed to get under his skin? What was up with the comments on his nose? Or his boring evaluations? Ay, if the guys only knew, he thought. They were being kept in fine preservation, so he thought, and the light-heartedness with which his clients approached their circumstances scared him. These were dead men walking, they were on their last limbs and they were…laughing? Where was the anger? The indignation? For Christ’s sake…where was the revolution? Ah, but there was that evaluation he would be getting to in a couple hours. Best stay on task.
         Lynette was brewing coffee in an otherwise silent office. She immediately approached Sean:
“You’ve gotta reign her in, Sean.”
“Excuse me?”
“Alex is not Rise + Shine! material. Ok, she’s gone. It’s over.”
“What are you talking about?”
“That end of the day trip to Mr. Mike’s hotel? The one you sanctioned? Yeah, well that room was designated as trashed by the property owner. The timing came down to within a half hour of Alex’s arrival. Explain that one to me, Sean.”
         Sean caressed his fingers and touched his lips. He had no idea what Lynette was on about, but he felt a surge of warm heat rise to his cheeks.
“It’s over,” he thought to himself, “we’ve got an AWOL, huh?”
         He plotted his words carefully, knowing that this was his moment to step up and demonstrate his leadership. He nervously laughed as he crafted his declaration. His own inertia had run dry, and he realized he would make the changes he needed:
“Alex has got to go.”
“Well, now, it’s not exactly that simple, now right, Sean? You know that. We have no proof, this is all speculation.”
“Well gosh diddily dangit Lynette that’s about up to all I’ve had to hear about our pardoning system here. We. Must. Stay. Focused. Our homeless deserve it.”
         Lynette stood in stunned silence. For once Sean said something that was intelligible. Well, to her at least. He had always appeared aloof and foolish, too small for his big body. And a total dork. The homeless totally ripped into him. But above all, there was a sincere dedication that had kept him afloat for over two decades. Now he had finally spoken his truth.
“Lynette, you forgot one major thing here today.”
“What’s that, Sean?”
         She was all ears for more from the heart wisdom. Maybe he had been quiet all these years for this very moment.
         Silence.
“Today is the Rise + Shine! Autumn festival at the Brydon Park. What. The. Heck!”
“You think I didn’t know that?” she mocked laughed, but had to admit to herself that this Alex hotel situation had totally derailed her focus.
         In another reality Alex would have come a half hour too late. Her timing was just the opposite. It happened at the close of business yesterday. No one had a chance to catch the moment. The Rise + Shine! office did not run an afterhours hotline for protective purposes. All emergencies were left in the hands of the authorities and the shelters. As it were, Alex had gone rogue.
“Well, frankly Sean, you’re gonna have to take the lead on this one. You’ll have to take off from the festivities to find Alex and secure our homeless client, Mr. Mike, known alcoholic, liar, delinquent, thief, and one heck of a seductive and charming mister gentleman, ya know already. And Alex fell for that dope. She’s a fool.”
         Sean had not seen Lynette like this before. Perhaps she had felt somehow seduced herself by Alex’s unbounded enthusiasm and positivity. Maybe it was because she knew she had a potential shitshow on her hands. It didn’t matter because he felt just the same and it was up to him to put a lid on this…rebellion.
         O’Malley reflected as he drove in his tin box vehicle. Perhaps this was one of the moments he had been made to save. Think about it. He had secured some few hundred housing placements over twenty years, had integrated dozens of staff members, and he never forgot the memories of his heroes. Decisive men taking action for the betterment of a larger cause. Alex had stepped out of line, was probably allowing herself to get plowed with disease, and had the nerve to present it all with her crooked, charming little smile.
         It was not hard for him to find himself smiling. Almost giddy. I mean, how often would he get the chance to show his capacity to deter a potential meltdown? Was this a hypothetical Chernobyl aversion? You have been waiting for this moment, Sean, he thought to himself, enjoy yourself.
         He started with a quick trip through Morristown and talk to the guys. He was certain they would know everything and immediately. So simple, but he would have to show them how serious the matter was. They would feel his presence and weight of the matter.
         Of course, he pulled up to a ghost town. The fella’s were at the picnic, he just remembered. He took a trip to the hotel, also a deserted scene, but determined to speak with the manager. A middle-aged man, perhaps in his upper-50s, of Indian descent and with a strong look of skepticism absorbed the gangling, awkward presence of Sean O’Malley. The manager squinted briefly, scratched his ear, and asked Sean what he wanted.
“I’m here on investigative business. My name is Sean O’Malley, housing coordinator with Rise + Shine! Would you mind if I asked you a few questions, sir?”
“You go away, sir. I don’t like your kind and I don’t like your clients. Bad mess. Goodbye!”
         And with that, the office screen was closed on Sean’s face. He sort of stumbled there mentally for a second or two…it felt good to stir things up a little bit. He knocked again, harder. From behind the screen:
“Please, sir, go away, this business is mine. It is none of your concern.”
         Sean looked for a way to relate to the owner. His MSW training immediately kicked in and he looked at a name identifier, “Rikish.” Sean took a few seconds to catch his breath, reflect, and engage his target:
“Hi there…is it Rikish? Hello, uh, hi. Yeah. My name again is Sean O’Malley. I want to help you. A man named Mike Pistach stays here in your hotel. Sometimes he makes messes. Sometimes big messes. I understand that yesterday afternoon he made a massive big mess.”
         In his mind, maybe not his heart, Rikish saw some value to this man. He paused a moment and reluctantly lifted the screen.
“You know your man Mr. Mike is a big loser! He mess up my property! And he just laugh and laugh and laugh. His room will cost me hundreds of dollars! And he laughs every day! Do you see me laughing? I do not cry for a man so weak. I am furious! I want justice! Get him out!!”
         And, honestly, Sean thought, maybe that was the exact type of executive action that needed taking place. Mr. Mike was an ingrate. He did not support the social changes Sean spent twenty years just barely achieving. He had seen one or two clients return to careers. That was as good as it gets. Feels great. But to see a mid-60’s pregnant-bellied dying alcoholic choose to take out his own instincts on property that he was essentially being lent to stay dry and have a bed? No…the more he thought about it, Sean started to realize he could bring about a real revolution.
         First step was to call Lynette and let her know he had been to the sites. He would pursue a tone of concern, to be sure, but also strength. His strength. All those shoddy coffees he had taken off staff members, the quiet pausing of his raised hand at team meetings (he always let the newbie speak up for about 20 useless minutes), even the damned jokes he had to crack, that was to be done away with. Today was the day he earned his stripes.
         So. He would make his way over to the picnic. He would let Lynette know that he was doing his due diligence. He was on top of this. Would Alex be eradicated? Jeez, was the power going to his head already? All he knew was that this was the very moment. This was it.
         He pulled into the local state park, Locahany, and excitedly alighted from his car. He reviewed his words with caution. This was not meant to alarm Lynette. It was not meant to let her feel that their staff had done dirty. No.          This was going to be calm, cool, collected. A man in charge. The man of the hour.
“Sean! How the heck are you??” Lynette cried out.
         Her excitement left something to be desired. Was she not aware that they had a crazy man on the loose? What was with the joy?
“Um, hello.”
“Where have you been? This is the annual picnic for crying out loud. All of your clients have been asking for you. They want to know if you have more boring assessments haha. Or if you want to play some handball. Heck, Ms. Smith has an itch to dance. You know what that means…”
         For a second, Sean stumbled inside himself. He had spent 20 years getting whipped by leather balls, dancing the hokey pokey like no tomorrow, and assessments were bloody assessments. There was no getting around them!
“Um, Lynette. Aren’t there more important things to talk about?”
“Hey I have to talk to Josie, but let me get you a diet Pepsi. I know you’re a sugar free guy.”
“I don’t drink aspartame either, Lynette.”
         But before he knew it the beverage was in his right hand. And he was alone.
         Just a test, Sean thought to himself. The best revolutionaries are always tested. This is my moment to show my resolve. Lynette just wants to know that I haven’t forgotten the mission. She’s probably caught up in the moment. Let me scout this scene…
         Someone had decided to play 2 Step. Dave Matthews Band. Another jamble ramble of nonsense. What else was new? There was stilted laugher and sometimes manic laughter. One client took a water bottle and smashed it over his head. Sean made polite smiles to all at the scene and before he knew it he was flocked. Questions pored out. When am I getting housing? Will Rise + Shine! help with rent back payments? Could you take a sneak ride out to my friend’s house for me? Uf, Sean thought. I’m back at the grind, I guess. He fielded the questions as best he could, almost wondering if it was a premonition of his surging influence. He decided to take these moments to heart and breath them in.
“Ay yo ay yo ay yo!!” came a chuckle.
         Sean turned around and stood aghast. It was Mr. Mike!
“You gotta any creamed corn, sir? You know them berries taste pretty good too!”
         A flock of Mr. Mike’s posse circled around the scene egging him on. It seemed the more absurd the comments, the better.
“Fer fuck’s sake!” Mr. Mike cried, “We ain’t even got my dance on yet…mhmm, yo Mrs. Jenkins you want to turn O’Malley on a bit? I’ve been more excited watching paint dry.”
         Now, before this could go any further, Sean decided he needed to nip this bollocks in the balls. He shuffled through the now jostling crowd, seemingly dancing to a Diana Ross track, and set his course for Lynette. This was ridiculous. And that she could have embraced him so nonchalantly? Where were the standards? How could Rise + Shine! turn its back on the community that tolerated this population? And, of course, as he finally found her, he could not have ever braced himself for the shock of what he was about to see: Alex was standing right next to Lynette, animatedly conversing with a vivacious circle. Smiles abounded and it seemed as though Alex was the primetime guest of the afternoon.
“Sean!! It’s so good to see you. Isn’t this just lovely?”
“Mm, nothing to hate, I guess. Where have you been?”
“Right here. We’ve all been waiting for your dance with Mrs. Jenkins!”
“Oh gosh Alex, you are funny. Can I talk to you later?”
“Of course!”
         Sean slowly shuffled his way to a table and placed his head in his hands. At this point he was flabbergasted. Mr. Mike here. Alex giddy and giggling like a school girl. Lynette championing all the nonsense. He sighed, exacerbated. He needed some explanation. And yet, he knew he wouldn’t really get one. It might be, “Oh, Mr. Mike was off his medication, leave him be,” or “Alex worked really hard here Sean, and she always does. You should know that.” Alas, maybe he was a revolutionary fool.
         In fact, he decided that he needed no explanation. The revolution would not be televised. The program would never change. His clients would continue to mess up themselves, Rise + Shine!, and their communities. He decided to look up an old number he had never been able to delete.
         “Hey. What’s up Scotch? Are you sleeping?”