The Endless Concord, Chapter 7

VII. Progress

Dorothy shuffled around the office heavily and laboriously. Case files were piled up in stacks on the counter, each one scrupulously examined for indications that might lead the authorities to believe we shouldn’t have let this cat out of the bag if anything went horribly wrong for the street parade. The medical cards were preprinted with the insurance papers and put into special folders for immediate use. Terry prepackaged all the meds in case someone had to take some kind of hiatus. I was asked to make sure Randall was good and clean before we went out. I made sure he had plenty of soap, which he assured me he did, and told him to just use all of it. He was in there half an hour and came out wearing the same clothes as before so you couldn’t tell the difference.
“Randall, you got any clean clothes?”
He stood in the doorway starring off into space before finally concentrating on the top of my head. “I just washed these in there like you told me to.”
“I didn’t tell you to do that.” They were wet and covered with what looked like cereal. “What did you wash them with?”
“A little milk and toothpaste,” he said with a big smile.

Willis rolled in around 9:30 darting around shutting doors and shuffling papers. I searched him for any insight as to my job security. But it’s never that quick. In the office there are certain channels, long and pointless, that one has to go through before finding any evidence of truth in a superior. This is written in baby blue walls and bleached white tile, it’s written in signatures and polite nods of affirmation.
“New coffee, I see,” I said, flipping open the lid to the Mr. Zip coffee maker and pouring in Bergeson's Northwestern roast.
The advent of morning is confirmed in this maneuver.
“Yep.”
“Any word?”
“Nope.”
“Goddamn it.”
“How did your little thing go? How are you feeling specifically? You don’t have to answer that, these are questions Team-Teamwork assured me would work well with your T.E.A.”
“Thanks for the gesture.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Shift-change report?”
“Okay, bring em’ in.”
I knocked on Dorothy’s door and then went out to find Terry. He was assuring Robert and Marvin that no one was sneaking around putting things in places they didn’t need to be. I interrupted and assured them we had an investigation going, vast and complex, into the onward spiral of misplaced goods. Marvin suggested we call in the authorities. Robert agreed but felt the CIA would be particularly useful in this kind of operation.
“We’re going to bring in the Russians on this one.”
Robert and Marvin agreed Russian intelligence to be a superior advance into the matter and sauntered off.
Terry gave me a disapproving look. I asked him to go to the office for shift change and asked where Erica and Tonya were.

“OK, you’re all here. Let’s get started.” Willis shrugged and took a sip of coffee. “Street parade has been a mess every year; missing clients, civilians being vomited on, massive Estate Plaza arrests, general chaos and uh…anarchy. So this year we’ve brought in more staff. For every two or so clients there will be a guardian as opposed to the every four thing we were doing last year. I don’t want to see any urinating in public. And for God sakes whoever volunteers Mason please keep him away from the women…if he gets slugged again by another yuppie in a purple parka I swear to God…”
Teresa raised her hand. “I’ll keep him in line.”

Teresa applied a kind of much needed maternal toughness to the Plaza the clients seemed to appreciate.
“Down to earth,” was the way Willis described her upon hiring her. “All of you seem to have some special quality that not only stabilizes the environment but draws the clients into your World. It’s a good thing. Tonya and Teresa share qualities that just...work.”
“And what about the rest of us?” I asked him one morning on our way to take Doris, who is almost completely catatonic, to the Purchase Frenzies department store for mop-head replacements and freshener.
“Well, Terry applies a degree of science to the mix, he and Mary are pretty similar in this aspect. They offer a logical indifference necessary in assessing physiological conditions. Then you take Erica, who adds an emotional level to just about everything, and then Libby, who just kind of checks up on everyone. We have a pretty good set up here Clem.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t know, I think I’m kind of neutral, the man whispering in the ear of the weaker one, that being you.”
“Ah, would they prefer you’re a disillusioned alcoholic then?” I asked crassly.
“I’m not! It’s just that it’s better to have an indifferent administrator to make sure operations run smoothly.”
“And me? You have any generalizations for me?”
“You needed a job,” he said, pulling into one of the handicapped spaces and unloading Doris from the minivan.

The door slammed up against the back of my head and I had to hold it in place and move around it towards the sink to let whomever in. Libby, Mary, and two others I’ve never seen before shuffled in and took off their rain coats. The office was now completely packed. Those already in the room had taken positions around the edges to avoid the awkward standing in the middle of the room pacing back and forth while everyone tries not to call any attention to you. I turned around and washed my hands to insure I don’t lose my position near the sink. Libby and Mary fell in place near Dorothy’s office door, and near Dorothy, who had all the Frito’s out. She was dipping them into a sauce mixture she put together from the four nearly empty sour crèmes and salsas leftover from the last meeting. The two newcomers stood looking confused in the middle of the room.
“So everyone, this is Jake and Conrad,” from Willis, unfolding one of his arms and indicating the two with an open hand.
“Hello Jake and Conrad,” Erica said with a bright smile.
“Hello,” from Jake and Conrad.
Jake was well-built, looking hardened and disturbing. He had a semi-see-through black mesh T-shirt and tight jeans. Conrad was tall and thin with wavy hair and thick side burns. He wore a red beanie on the top of his head like Jacques Cousteau.
I said hello and gave a polite nod to the both of them, returned only by Conrad, whom I could tell was Conrad only because the other man couldn’t have been named anything other than Jake.
Tonya had brought in the five liters of diet soda, a tray of assorted cheeses, and several bags of salmon flavored potato chips. These items were purchased using the Group Meeting Furnishing Card, or G.M.F.C., allotted to the Plaza by the Estate for just this purpose.
“So that makes ten of us,” Willis said with a self-involved smile.
“Well, what is their experience?” from Mary.
Conrad began to answer but was interrupted by Erica.
“I’m sure they have exper…”
“We uh…” from Conrad.
“Oh do yo…” from Erica.
“Yes we…” from Conrad.
“Oh no, sorry, go ahead.” Erica interrupted again, blushing.
“Well…we do have a bit…”
“What now?” interrupted Mary.
Willis clapped his hands together, “Okay, finished?”
Conrad and Erica communicated their embarrassment in smiles and nods to one another.
“Shift report?” Libby asked, noticeably annoyed.
“Yeah, I’m worried about Annie gettin' into them sweet breads… That girl needs to learn to control herself. She keeps it up like that she’ll have cholesterol through the roof,” Tonya said, periodically glancing at Teresa and Terry who were both nodding emphatically.
“That’s true, anybody else with a comment?” from Willis.
“I’ve noticed that too, I’m worried that we might see a repeat of what happened to Wilson last year,” Erica said, knitting her eyebrows.
I tried stifling the memory of Willis and I having to help the coroner ease Wilson's bloated body into a stretcher at two in the morning trying not to slip on the urine and tobacco substance spattered all over the floor.
Willis and I nodded at one another.
“Also,” Terry began, saying the word with the intensity necessary to bring the room down to a concentrated boredom, “although Annie is of concern, there are three clients I’d like us to pay special attention to. Robert’s Haldol dose has been nearly doubled by his case Doctor, Ron, and his Benztropine significantly lowered. I think, given his HX, his behavior might look a bit sporadic until the cycle runs its course for a few days. I think Ron imagines he’ll stop with the usual outbursts in a week or so, but there’s no way to guess how he’s going to look today, especially with that rash, which, considering, is going to be especially aggravated. And all of Mason’s meds have been drastically lowered because insurance has been cut in half and he was already on all the generics, so he’s going to be considerably elevated and chain-smoking. And, last but not least…”
“Randall,” everyone seemed to say at once.
“Yes, Randall. He’s been on that same cycle of about 40 meds a day and we’re still not seeing any progress. I’m worried he’s really escalating. For those who haven’t been here since Saturday, Randall was caught naked in the middle of the street yesterday yelling something like ‘Brain to penis! Brain to penis! All systems go for sex!’ Would anyone know anything about that?”
A lazy gaze drifted in my direction.
“I let Randall watch Woody Allen last week, he might have picked something up,” I said, crossing my arms and looking down at the floor.
“That’s real special Clement,” Libby said sarcastically.
“Apparently so,” I said, looking over at Tonya who gave me a chastising shake of the head but was noticeably trying to hold back her laughter.
“In any case, no more Woody, and I mean that on several levels,” Terry said looking around the room and stepping back to indicate he was finished.
“I’m also worried about Robby Roulette and Jerry. Robby isn’t playing his Russian Roulette game anymore and just sits in his room watching TV, and Jerry leaves at 8:00 A.M. every morning and doesn’t come back until sundown, and lately he’s been out for two or three days,” Mary added.
Robby’s Russian Roulette game consists of just that, except with a plastic gun. From what we’ve seen the game has no real rules or objectives, it just kind of is how it sounds. He sits out on the blacktop near the Wonder Bread outlet in the middle of a parking space, pulling the trigger of a plastic gun over and over again. His past is unclear. All his case file really mentioned is that he had this nickname since 1983. He can sometimes be moody and disconsolate, unmovable, and nearly impossible to medicate when he’s absent from his game for too long. This is why our main course of action for treating him is making sure he has the gun pointed to his head at all times.
“Well, all of those guys have day and night passes so as long as they’re not out longer than three days and they are taking their meds at med pass or having them packed to go, there’s nothing we can do. Anyway, I hear what you’re saying, but Jerry doesn’t have a massive drug history, so I doubt he’s scoring, and he always comes back looking refreshed,” Willis said, attentively rubbing the top of his foot against his other ankle.
“Well I still think he should come home more often, is he even going to be around for the street parade?” Teresa asked, playing with the cross hanging from her neck with two fingers and brushing her hair back with the other hand.
“We’ll know whose going to go after shift report. We’ve had the flyers up and the clients know it’s coming so that’s that. We have all of you here on the off chance all will show up. What in all likelihood will happen is some of you will have one ct. and some of you two.”
“Well, Jerry needs to participate, how are we supposed to help with his treatment if he keeps disappearing?” Mary asked.
Jerry would always stay gone. As long as I had worked at the Plaza I hardly ever saw him. I decided that if I had ever wound up at a place like the Plaza and got the three day pass he obtained, I’d do exactly the same. Sometimes it’s better to sleep on a cold bench than to navigate the emptiness of a clinic. I felt Jerry and I had a kind of understanding. I never gave him any shit and he appreciated it.
“Case closed on the Jerry issue,” Willis snapped back at Mary.
Willis and I were on the same page with Jerry.
“Oh here we go, more bullshit solidarity between the two swinging dicks of the Plaza!” Libby said with a roll of the eyes.
“Libby, if Bob Marley were here he wouldn’t be talking like…” I began.
“Fuck you,” Libby interrupted.
“Oh it’s getting heated up in here!” Tonya said laughing.
Dorothy sipped coffee out of a 32 ounce plastic big red mug and shuffled through this morning’s allotment of Wonder Breads.
“Clem has been here half as long as we have and Willis and he seem to agree on everything, can anybody else sense the mentality there? They behave like two men in the exercise yard of a prison. Does anyone else find it totally disgusting?”
“I think Libby might have a point there,” Mary said, clenching up her waddle against her chest and shrugging a shoulder, squinting down at the floor in a frenzied fit of agreement.
Terry starred blankly, head tilted to one side, at the two new comers who paced awkwardly in the center of the office.
I laughed nervously, trying to pinpoint a time when Willis and I consistently agreed with one another, and looked over at Tonya for a little help. She shot back a “You’re on your own” look at me and looked up at the ceiling.
The sound of the air conditioner felt present.
“Guys, we’re here to help our clients and we can’t do that when you’re all bickering, especially today when they will need us by their sides so that we might help them enjoy themselves…” Erica said, on the verge of crying.
We all looked at Erica for a few moments in silence.
“OK, is that it?” Willis said sighing, half laughing.
Libby let out a disapproving grunt to indicate it would be an ongoing thing, “Murderer.”
I could sense the people in the room looking at her with jaws dropped without having to look up.
“Libby, get out, you’re on Jason control, make sure he is set to go,” Willis said, “your skating on thin ice,” he added as the door closed behind her.
“She’s having a hard time,” Erica said to me after a short room silence, “Lance was supposed to be one of her case clients.”
I left the room and had a cigarette outside, occasionally peeking through the office window to see if shift change had finished or not when I caught a glimpse of Robert between the fence bars. He was out in the middle of the street dodging cars.
“Robert? You sure that’s safe?” I asked him, closing the gate behind me and stepping out onto the sidewalk. It felt good to be outside. There’s something to walking out of rooms such as those.
“There’s a pattern to this…hmm…something to it…” he said, diving out of the road and barely missing a truck.
I thought about maybe pulling him by the arm or alerting the other staff but then thought better of it. I’ve seen Robert play his car dodging game before and, in any case, he’ll do what he wants to do. Most of the time he doesn’t give me trouble. I figured I would give him a break.
“What kind of pattern?” I asked, putting my hands in my pockets and watching him just kind of wait for a car to get too close and then step out of the way.
“Economy cars! They swerve first! The bigger ones, they just keep on going! It says something, you know? Like about society?”
A woman in a Jetta hit a curb and rode the sidewalk for a good twenty feet before barely missing a telephone pole and stopping.
“We need to go back inside Robert.”
“Yeah.”
I went back inside the office to find Dorothy going down the list of clients and reeling off case history for the parade help, Jake and Conrad, while Terry made another batch of Coffee. Tonya and Mary were pulling old chips and dip out of the refrigerator and discarding what they didn’t eat into the trash bin. Willis sprayed Lysol in the air and turned on the fan extra high to get the smell out.
I was reminded of my first day. Dorothy had me read every case file from start to finish while she organized all the information release forms on the computer (I.R.F.'s). Sauce from the bagel bites would drip on the keyboard and crust there until the night janitors came in to sterilize the whole facility. Looking around at the arrangement of Wonder Bread wrappers and client history, of year old birthday banners and med orders, I wondered which room we were sitting in.

Fourteen clients showed up, which in any case was a drastic improvement from last year. I was assigned Marvin and Randall in the community room and everyone prepared to get going. I packed their insurance files and spare medication in a day bag, along with a whistle and a badge indicating I’m an employee and not a client, which we all made sure we had.