Dada: Chapter 4b

   I take a few minutes to fill out another round of forms.  How many more will I need?
   "I need to check on Sam, and then I probably need to talk to Tim about my current projects."
   "Go on out.  I'll finish this part up and then take the finished forms down to you."
   I stand to leave and shake his hand.  Bennie has gone out of his way to look out for me, lately.  I can't help but worry that he might get into trouble for this.
   "Just call me if you need any advice.  What am I saying?  You probably know more about teenagers than me."  he jokes as I leave.
   The door to the break room is wide open.  There's Sam, stuffing what appears to be a jelly donut into his mouth.  Blueberry, my favorite.  The downstairs break room rarely gets those, and we have more people using it than up here.
   "How many donuts does that make you?" I joke from the door.
   "Three.  No, four."  he whispers, after barely swallowing his last bite.
  "I thought you weren't hungry.  Come on.  I need to go back downstairs to talk with my supervisor.  We'll take the backstairs; it will be faster."
    Blue Homestead's headquarters was built in a slightly haphazard manor.  It was going to be just one story with a basement, but a second story was added early in the planning.  The floor plan for both stories is about the same.  Four hallways around a central hub.  Two staircases in back lead down to the rear entrances and parking lot.  A front staircase ends just behind the reception desk.  Really gets on the person's nerves whenever someone uses them.
   We start down the stairs, but Sam is going slowly.  I forgot about his shoes.  He grimaces every few steps as we go down.  I should have thought better.  This way is faster, though.  Besides, the elevator might not be fumed out yet.
   "Sorry about the steps.  It is only a short flight down."
    Sam sighs.  I really should have remembered about his big feet.
   The editorial room has two doors.  One in front and one near the rear stairs.  It is also the one nearest to Tim's office.  The door to his office is just inside.  Fortunately, he takes his lunch a little later than the rest of the crew, and he was the only one there.
   "Hey, Tim.  I need to talk with you."
   "Chris.  Got you message that you would be late today.  Who's this with you?" Tim cordially asked.
  "This is my brother.  My half-brother, Sam.  He's the reason I'm late, and why I have to take some time off.  Short version.  I am going to be taking care of him for awhile, and the law says I get to take leave to do so.  I'm just down here to check on all my projects and hand them off."
  "Well.  I hope to see you again before the wedding."
    Tim started working here soon after I did.  He moved here from Chicago after his wife died.  He wanted a new start, and he was willing to walk away from a larger publisher to do so.  Just last year, he started dating again.  By December, he and Katie were engaged.  Their wedding is set for June 18.
   "We'll see.  We have to go up to New York to finish up a few things.  After that, I don't know what will happen."
  "Well, I hope you two will be okay."  Tim graciously offered his hand for me to shake, and then to Sam.  "A little sticky there, young man."
   "I think I need to wash up some."  Sam squeezed out.  His voice really is all over the place.
   "Go right on out.  It will only take a minute or two to finish up here."  I am already booting up my computer as I am talking.  With him out of the room, I might get a chance to look up something about his father.  Our father.  It will only take a few seconds to transfer my projects.  Then I can just find out . . .
  "AAAAAAHHHHHH!"
   Tim and I run out of the room to check on the shrill scream, just outside the door.  There, Deb, a press secretary is standing outside of the ladies' restroom, with Sam holding the door open.
   "What happened?" both Tim and I ask, simultaneously.
   "I think this young man made a mistake, and was going into the wrong washroom," Deb answered, trying to hide a giggle.
    "I forgot to tell him that the mens' room is further down the hall, downstairs." I quickly stammer out.  "He meant nothing by it.  It was definitely by accident."
     The haphazard nature of the building can be best shown by the restrooms.  The Hemphills, mostly Anita, decided that the restrooms should have two entrances, one on each hallway, front and rear.  When a second story was added, somehow the plan got switched around.  On the first floor, the mens' room is left of the elevator, not the right as it was on the second floor when Sam first went.  No wonder he got confused.  It took me about a week to get things straightened out, and I rarely went upstairs at the time.
   "I'm sorry he startled you.  I'm sure he will apologize for intruding." I try to assure Deb.
  At this, she couldn't stop cracking up.
  "Actually, it was him who screamed.  I bet he hasn't been in one in years."  Deb giggled.
   "I'm sorry, for everything." Sam all but screeched.  That voice really should be settling soon.
   "Sam, just go down the hall a few more doors. You can't miss it." I calmly explain.  "I won't be long now."
  I'm sure of this because I see Bennie coming out the rear stair door.   Tim and Deb go on their ways, as I lead him back to my desk.
   "Talk while I finish this up."
    "Here's the paperwork.  Two weeks off with the option for six more.  Why not take the whole two months all at once?"  Bennie asks.
    I type in the last few commands to transfer my work.  "Because I don't know yet if will take on the responsibility of being his guardian, yet.  I'm just going to New York to check on things.  I honestly don't know what is going to happen."
  "Here's hoping for the best.  Call me when you know what you'll do."  Bennie sighs as he walks away.
  I wish I had time Google my dad, but there's no time.  I close up my computer.  Unlike most of my fellow workers, I don't have anything personal on my desk.  No photos or knickknacks to show my personality.  I walk off, no knowing when I'll be back.
   Sam is down the hall, just coming out of the mens' room.
  "Let's cut through here.  It'll be faster." I say as I lead Sam back through the door.  Why anyone thought that having two doors for a restroom was a good idea is beyond me.  For a mens' room especially.  There is no privacy for a guy to stand without some tricky wall placement that almost defeats the purpose for having two doors.  I should probably go myself, but I can hold it in for longer.
  We walk out the door and into the parking lot.  The sun is shining right onto my car.  At least it's only noon, so it can't have gotten too hot.
  "We'll go and get you some clothes that fit, and maybe some lunch, although I'm not sure you could eat any more."  I say as I open the door.  "You should have stopped at three."
  "I'll be fine," Sam says as he opens his car door.  As he sits down, the button on pants finally gives way and pops off, arcing onto the dashboard.
   "Yeah, three.  Don't worry.  I know exactly where to go next." I assure him as I buckle up.  "You'll like it."

If It Be Bloomsday. . .

Saturday, June 16, is the minor literary holiday of Bloomsday.  It is in honor of the day when most of the action in James Joyce's literary classic Ulysses takes place.  It is named in honor of one of the main characters, Leopold Bloom, who we follow along on both him and, returning character from A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Stephen Daedalus.  While I have never celebrated this day at my store. Booknotes, before, I still love the idea.  However, I am not sure how one would celebrate beyond talking about the book and its complex themes and imagery, or perhaps, having a party in the style of early twentieth-century Dublin.   One thing is for sure, I would not be doing anything the characters do from the book.  While most actions are rather harmless, (e.g. taking a walk on the beach looking at pebbles, placing a newspaper advertisement), many are somewhat strange (teaching a class at a Jesuit school, suffering intestinal discomfort after eating at a pub).  Some are just unusual (attending an friend's funeral, becoming a father figure to a young man).  Others are just downright weird (going out drinking with college buddies and talking about midwifery, having a formal question-and-answer session with a friend about third-party events as if you weren't a part of them).  Many actions are immoral (making crude puns to your housekeeper, contemplating the love of your husband while having an affair with an actor).  Some are illegal, both then and now (performing a lewd act while ogling a young nanny with her charges on a beach, going to a brothel and hallucinating about your dead mother).  We strongly suggest not doing any of these things.  Maybe we can come up with some better ideas for next year. In fact, I actually had to read Ulysses in college and enjoyed it.  We were originally only going to read excerpts, but the professor changed his mind.  Fortunately, the library had enough copies for the seven of us.  I still had to skip a few pages near the end to finish it in time.  Unfortunately, I have yet to re-read it.

[Originally post on THW's Booknotes Blog, June 2017]

Dada: Chapter 4a

   "Hello, Mrs. Hemphill.  I was just here to discuss some leave with Mr. Rogers, so if you wuld be so kind as to leave so we can ..." I got cut off.
   "Oh, we will talk about leaving, Mr. Burton.  Your little bout of lateness is going to be the final straw.  No one with such a low regard to professionalism as you deserves a place at my business."
   Actually, it is more her husband's, but I don't want to interrupt her.
   "How can you think that you even will have a job after coming in two hours late?  Well, nothing to say."  she added.
   "Actually, I connected my manager, as well as Mr. Rogers and others last night via email, text, and voice-mail that I would be coming in late today.  Admittedly, I thought I would be back before now, but the situation at the court house took longer than I imagined."
  "The court house?  What trouble did you get into now?  I would hazard a guess it is something that would jeopardize your position here, otherwise you would have informed us sooner."  Hemphill was getting that smug look she always gets when she thinks she is better than someone else.
   "Look, this is a private matter that I would like to mention only with Human Resources.  I'm sure Mr. Rogers would agree with me on that."  I hated putting Bennie in such a situation, but I was sure he could handle it.
   "Mrs. Hemphill, Chris might be right.  Why don't you leave the office for a bit, while the two of us talk, and we might be able to come up with an explanation."  Ben quickly blurted out.
  "No!  If Mr. Burton has something to say, he should just come out and say it."  Hemphill stood up while talking, standing right in my face.  In her heels, she was almost as tall as me. just barely looking me in my eyes, albeit at an upward angle.
  "If you must know, my long-absent father, who never ever get to see me, has died.  And now, I am the guardian of the half-brother I never knew I had.  By law, I get some time off to adjust to this new situation.  And I am quite appalled by this intrusion into my personal life!"  As well as my personal space.
  "Now see here Mr. Burton, I do not take well to such a tone of voice.  You do not get to say when and how you get time off.  What do you say to that?" 
   "Actually, he's right. Anita."  A voice came from behind me.
   Only one person in his right mind would dare use Mrs. Hemphill's first name and hope to get away with it, unscathed, her husband Judge Aaron Hemphill.
   "Under the Federal Family Leave Act, he is guaranteed time off.  In fact, threatening to fire him because of asking for time off could be considered illegal."  the Judge quickly added.
   "Hello, Judge Hemphill.  Nice to see you today," I spoke up, "How is everything going?"
  "My condolences. Everything is alright.  I just came here to pick up Anita for a brunch date.  Is that you brother eating up everything in the break room?"
  "Probably.  I had to bring him with me while I was going over some details about my time off."
  "How is he holding up?"  the Judge kindly asked.
   "Okay, I guess.  He isn't speaking much.  I think it might have to do with his voice cracking.  He just turned fourteen last month."
   "I guessed he was about that age, considering how he's eating.  Went through that three times with our boys.  Lucky for us that they were spaced out, or they wouldn't have eaten us out of house and home."
  Adrian, Alan, and Andrew Hemphill, and their sister Abigail (I know, all 'A's").  All three had worked at Blue Homestead.  The oldest, Adrian, was now the CFO at an investment firm in Florida.  Alan is a prosecuting attorney in Louisville.  I think he ran for office this week, but he may have lost.  Next comes Abigail; she works in the legal department at a regional food distributor in Cincy.  Andrew, the youngest, was the only one I actually met and worked with.  He became a literary agent the year after I started here.  He now spends most of his time in LA, getting authors paired with productions. 
   "Alan shot up over foot that summer when he was that age.  Ended up being 6' 3", only one of our boys taller than me.  Well, I think it was time for us to be going, Anita.  We don't want to keep the Martins waiting.  Goodbye Ben.  Again, my condolences Chris.  Hope to see you back soon."
  "Goodbye, Mr. Rogers."  Anita looked back with an icy stare, ignoring me completely as the Judge escorted his wife out of the office.
  "How in the world did you manage that?"  Bennie finally spoke up.
  I sat down in the chair that Hemphill hadn't been sitting it.
  "I asked the family court judge for more information before I left.  It's one of the reasons why I'm late.  I let it slip that I worked for the Judge, and found out that the two knew each other.  It wasn't hard to ask for a little favor, just to keep me out of trouble.  I honestly didn't think this would happen, though."
  "Well, you are lucky on this, at least, if not the rest.  It won't take me long to fix the proper forms.  Here, just start signing these." he passed me some papers as he talked.  "You should have something for me to look at too."
  "Oh, here you go." I passed him my own stack of forms.
  "This shouldn't take too long.  Fourteen, huh.  I guess I have another year or two before Ben goes through the same thing."
  Ben is his son, Bernard Rogers, Junior.  I know.  The poor kid will probably be teased a lot once he hits high school. 
  "You might want to go look in on him, before he does something stupid."
  " I know.  I think we will go downstairs so I can clear out any projects before leaving.  Can you bring these down."
  "Sure.  Vince should be back from lunch soon.  One of us will get these to you."
   "Thanks." I said as I stood up to leave the room.

Dada: Chapter Four

  I still can't believe it.  Here I am, walking out of the courthouse with a teenager who is probably my half-brother, with nothing more than a few preliminary DNA tests and a half hour of paperwork.  It just doesn't make any sense.  Shouldn't there be something more to be done than this?   I mean, I am taking care of another human being here.  There has to be more to all of this that I am just not getting.
   "This is surreal." Sam mumbles as we walk back to my car.
   "It sure is." I respond.  When did 'surreal' become a word teens use?  I thought I knew pop culture trends.
    "Anyway, do you need to eat anything?  If you do, we can stop somewhere before I check in a work.  I already told them I would be late, so a few extra minutes won't hurt."
   "No thank you.  The hotel had a breakfast for me."  Sam's voice ticked up a little at the end.  I can see why he keeps quiet so much.
   "Did you have anyone stay with you?  Do I have to pay anything for you?"
   "No, I don't think so.  The worker was supposed to stay with me, but he had to go back to New York.  They didn't have anyone here who could stay with me, so I was basically alone last night."
   "Okay.  Let's get to my work then."  I quickly fill the silence that the unasked question of how he spent the night left.  I unlock the door.
   "You best take of the jacket and tie.  It's going to be too hot today to be wearing that, especially with it not fitting you.  As for the tie, I know its hiding your missing button, but I never could get the hang of tying a tie on someone else.   I could put around my neck and transfer it, but I still don't think it will look that good on you.   You might want to take your shoes off while we're in the car.  Your feet will thank you. "
   He takes off his jacket, the sleeves already coming undone at the shoulders.  A black belt falls from the pocket.  I guess it was too small for him as well.  The tie lands on top of it, as he tightens his seat belt.
  "Don't you have anything else that fit?"  I ask as I start the car.
  "I don't think so.  I just got this suit at Christmas.  It was a little big then.  Still big at Easter.  Didn't start growing until after my birthday last month."  he gushed.
  "So, when's your birthday?  Do you know how tall your were then?"  Both questions seemed reasonable.
   "April 25.  I think I was just over five feet tall." 
  "Five feet!  You've grown over six inches in just a few weeks.  Dang, that's a lot.  After we leave work, we are going to have to get you some new clothes."  I had to blurt out.
  I never grew that fast when I was his age.  I don't think any of my classmates grew that fast, either.  Of course, most of them got their growth spurts over the summer, before I could see them change.  Still, that was a lot.   This guy is going to be huge.
  "Is that where you work?"  Sam suddenly started talking again.
  "Yep.  Welcome to Blue Homestead Publishing."
   The Hemphills wanted their building to look sort of like My Old Kentucky Home, with varying results.  The entire facade was done it white, with uniform lines made to look like paneling all along the side.  The windows had blue trim around them so they would like house windows, down to blue blinds inside to give the impression of shutters.  Even the thin awning along the roof was blue, with more lines to make it look like shingles. 
   The parking lot was more like a courtyard then anything else.  Trees lined both sides, providing shade for the cars that were parked there.  Another line of trees were in a path down the middle, giving even more shade. With a southwest orientation, most of the spots got great afternoon shade.  All of those had been take, leaving me with one of few to get full sun all day.  Well, I won't be staying too long today.   The executive lot in the back got shade all day long, but I don't have the privilege of parking there.
   Sam put his shoes back on, as we started the walk to the front entry.  It has a small roof over it, trying to make it look like a porch, and failing at it.  At least it is cover for bad weather.  Neither of us talk.
   "Hi, Leigh.  Is Bennie still in?" I ask the receptionist.
   "Maybe.  One minute please." Leigh was talking to someone on the phone.
   "Alright, then.  We'll go up to see him.
   The elevator quickly opened, empty.  We silently stepped in.  Homestead has two floors. plus an underground storage space.  Also, a storm shelter.  The delivery ramp is right under the editing pool.  You can usually hear and feel when the trucks come in.  We don't have a printing press on site.  We go third party for that.
   Pfft!
  "Excuse me."  Sam whispered, breaking the silence.  Then he broke wind again just before the doors open.  "Where is the restroom?"
   "Just take a left.  You can meet me in the break room just down the hall from it.  Just stay there and wait for me.  Oh, make sure you use the right door when you leave the men's room.  It has two."  I warn him as he gets ahead of me.
   I don't think I would ever have been as courteous as him when I was his age.  Of course, I rarely got to use elevators back then, and I was usually with many other people.  Still, I don't think I ever did something like that.  Probably.
    I walk around the center rooms to reach Bennie's on the main back hallway.  Vince, his assistant wasn't at the front desk, but the door to the private office was open.  I felt that I should just go in, as Bennie prefers it that way.
  "Bennie, I am here for the meeting you wanted." I said to Bennie, as he was sitting behind his desk.
  "Look who decided to finally make an appearance.  Possibly your last."
   Only one person could match that icy drip of a voice.  Sitting to the left, behind the door, was Mrs. Anita Hemphill.  I was in trouble.