Chapter 7

Shirley and I spent the whole weekend together, playing golf on Saturday, and driving into Bolling on Sunday, where we stopped off at my parents apartment and made love for a couple of very sweet hours.

At five, we picked up Ellen at her new apartment. The three of us went out to dinner at this little rib place that Ellen had found. Dinner was very messy, but delicious, and the movie we all went to see after was well worth the time we spent watching it. We drove back to Ellen's apartment, going inside so that I could see it. Edith was there, seemingly in good spirits. I had listened at dinner as Ellen described how surprised she was that Edith wasn't taking Earl's sudden defection to heart.

We headed back home at around nine o'clock Sunday evening. Shirley mentioned that Ellen was jealous because we were going to Chicago for most of the next week, and she was going to be staying home, her only excitement answering phones, and writing up orders at work.

"Kenny, I'm worried about Ellen still. She isn't happy."

"That's because she looks for ways to be unhappy. She doesn't appreciate the good things, doesn't even seem to take notice of them, but let something a little bit bad happen, and she has it memorized instantly, chapter and verse. Ellen doesn't want to be happy."

"That isn't fair! She's had a very hard life. You should be more sympathetic."

"Do you think she had it worse than I did? I seriously doubt that. Most of the kids I grew up with had it a lot worse than she has. I'm not sure what she was expecting. Did she think she was just going to sail along with no problems at all?"

We drove the rest of the way home with an uneasy silence between us. We didn't agree on this at all. We were starting to recognize that we held different beliefs about some issues. We were working on trying to accept those differences without it hurting our relationship, or the way we treated each other.

When we got to Shirley's house, I walked her to the door, and spent several wonderful minutes saying goodnight to her.

We didn't discuss how much progress, if any, she was making with her quest to get her parents approval for she and I to share a hotel room in Chicago. She did tell me, over the phone, on the previous Friday, that she had broached the subject with her mother. She told me then that her mom wasn't going to be as easy to convince as she had thought back on Thursday night.

At work on Monday, I went over the sales and delivery figures that I hadn't gotten to over the weekend. There didn't seem to be any real differences in the figures so far, with Roy, without Roy, and then with Cee Cee in charge. Sales and deliveries were on a slight rise, but the increase was offset by the slightly higher payroll of the last two weeks. I was confused, not understanding why the payroll numbers were going higher. I took the figures over to Joyce. and asked her if she could understand why the numbers for payroll were going up when we had spent over a week with three fewer men on the payroll.

I left her alone to work with the figures, heading down to the order picking and loading area to see how things were progressing. Right away, I noticed a large black man wheeling around backwards on a forklift. He was ferrying loaded pallets from the picking area to the order staging area. This was different than what Cee Cee had told me she planned on doing. I stood around watching though, trying to see how what they were doing compared to how she said she was going to do it.

A few things I noticed immediately was that it gave the picker/checkers more time to work at their specialty, checking the newly picked orders for accuracy. It freed up the picking carts faster too, and eliminated the need for loaders over in the order staging area. The only negative that I noticed was that picking area seemed a lot more crowded with pallets, people, and picking carts. It wasn't even ten o'clock though, and most of the ten by ten areas, set aside for each delivery truck, had at least one loaded order pallet resting in their space.

I found Cee Cee over in one of the picking aisles, arguing with a young male order picker. She was talking to him, using her voice and numerous hand and arm gestures, and he stood there shaking his head from side to side at her. He looked angry and stubborn. Cee Cee was looking like she had about exhausted her patience. I stayed back, about twenty feet behind her, watching to see how it all played out.

"Clint, you don't have any choice about it. We are gonna do it my way. You don't like how I got it set up, you can just quit."

"Cee Cee, your way ain't working. There's too many people picking these orders now. We all keep running into each other in the aisles, and we have to wait until whoever is in front of us gets done with picking what they need. Its one big cluster fuck in here now."

"My way, or you can quit. Its up to you, Clint."

I didn't particularly like what I was hearing from Cee Cee. I didn't know how valid the complaint was that Clint was making, but it seemed to me that Cee Cee was being pretty arbitrary about just dismissing his dissenting viewpoint without commenting on why it was wrong. I moved closer to them.

"Hi, Cee Cee. Lots of changes I see. Do you have a minute?" She turned and looked at me when I spoke. She didn't try to hide her look of annoyance at being interrupted when she was in the middle of something. Finally though, she nodded her head and we turned to walk over to her little office area. When we got there, I asked her to fill me in on what that was all about.

"That's one of Roy's troublemakers. He's been doing nothing but complaining to anyone who'll stop and listen to him. He's mostly unhappy that he either has to do the work now, or else everyone will know he isn't pulling his own weight. Most of the pickers are up to five hundred lines a shift now, but Clint and a few others are stalled out at around three hundred. He says its because of the crowding, but that ain't it. Other people are doing just fine, working under the same conditions. Hell, I already picked as many lines today as Clint has, plus I'm doing lots of other things too. Man, he is just pure ass lazy, that's what, and I'm not putting up with it any more."

"Is he one of the five you told me needed to be fired right away?"

"No, he's one of the ones I said better shape up, but he hasn't."

"Was that your son up on that forklift?"

"No, that was Darren, the forklift driver I said I was hiring. My boy is over on the loading dock, learning how to load a delivery van. Did you see how good Darren can move that forklift? He's so fast, we just started bringing the pallets over to the picking area and checking orders from the cart over onto the pallet. No matter how fast we're checking, he's too fast for us. The checkers are making a game of it, seeing how long he'll go without either wrecking the forklift, or else delivering a load to the wrong staging spot. So far, they haven't caught him in any mistake."

"What do you want to do with Clint, fire him?"

"No, not yet. He'd be a good picker if he ever quits trying to get over on the system. He was one of the main reasons I started checking lines on that chalkboard, so that all the people who are working would be able to see who wasn't. I knew he was dogging it, but he has a lot of the other pickers listening to all his complaints."

"If Clint isn't one of the ones you want to fire, how come you came down so hard on him?"

"Because I want him to know there isn't a chance in hell that he's going to find a way to get around me on this. Either he gets with the program, or he can go work somewhere else. I don't sugar coat anything with these people. It's just like I'm saying it is. Some people, they like knowing where they stand just fine, got no problem with me setting up a standard for them to meet. Some of the rest of them, they think they can stick together, and that will bring things back down to where they used to be. They liked it fine when there was no one being held accountable for how much or how little they did. I'm going to show them how wrong they are in about five hours time. You should come down and watch it. After today, they are going to know I mean what I'm saying."

I looked at my watch, it was ten o'clock, straight up.

"You are going to do something at three o'clock?"

"About three ten I'm guessing. As soon as the early picking is done for the day. At about three thirty, we switch over to late picking and early loading. Today, I'm firing whoever pulled the least order lines. Looks like it is going to be a real horse race between four people. That's why I tried to light a little fire under Clint's ass just now. I don't want him being the horse that gets knackered today."

"Knackered, as in tired?"

"No, knackered as in cut up and then ground up and sold as dog food. I'm firing someone today, based on how many lines got picked. Now, you need to let me get back to what I was doing, else I'm liable to have to fire my own self." Cee Cee laughed, and swung over by the order rack and pulled off the top ticket in the pile.

I went back upstairs to my office, and the first thing I noticed was that Joyce was gone from hers. I left her a note that I was going to lunch, and that I wouldn't be back until around twelve thirty. I went downstairs right after that and told Ellen we were leaving. I mentioned to Edith that we were taking a long lunch, and probably wouldn't be returning before twelve thirty or so. Ellen had a big smile on her face when I said that.

"Where are you taking me, Kenny? I hope its someplace really nice. You're rich, so you can afford to spring for a nice place."

"I'm taking you to a place I used to always eat at. It isn't pretentious, but the service is simply all that you could possibly hope for."

It was only about a five or six minute drive to St. Cecelia's. I had called over and talked to one of the Sisters on Friday, letting her know that they could expect a visit from me, and one of my employees. When I said we were going to be looking around, to see if there was anything they could use to make the place better, I was told that I would be expected and made welcome. I didn't recognize the voice of the sister who answered the phones now. Mother Superior had been unavailable for some undisclosed reason.

I could see the look of disappointment on Ellen's face when I parked right in front of the orphanage. For a few seconds, I wasn't sure if she was even going to get out of the car.

"This isn't funny, Kenny, I'm hungry. I've been looking forward to having a nice lunch with you."

"I lived here for almost twelve years, Ellen. This was my home, and this is where I ate all my meals. I want you to come in here with me so that you can understand me better, and know where I'm coming from when I talk to you. You don't have to be afraid, no one will hurt you inside."

"I'm not afraid, I'm just disappointed. Are we still going out to eat after we finish up here?"

"Sure, we can go wherever you want, so long as we can eat, and still get back to work by twelve thirty today."

It was good to see Maria again, and I had a chance to speak with some of the older kids that I knew before Uncle Bunny came to get me. They weren't older kids when I left the orphanage, but they were now. Several boys told me that they had talked to a man who asked them if they wanted to be adopted, even if it was by someone that wasn't that wonderful of a parent. We laughed about what would make adopted parents bad enough to make us not want to live with them, someone who would make us prefer to remain living at St. Cecelia's. It wasn't really funny to any of them. They all felt as hopeless as I had felt before Uncle Bunny, as desperate as I had been, and each of them believed they had lost out on any realistic chance to ever be adopted. I was happy that Frank Clooney had done what he told me he'd do. He had come to the orphanage to see the living conditions for himself, and I thought that said a lot in his favor.

When I took Ellen upstairs to show her where I had slept, I could see that she understood some of what it must have been like. We both helped Maria on the food serving line. I served the vegetable soup, and Ellen handed out the donated days old bread, and helped me pour the cups of unsweetened Kool Aid. They were serving cherry flavored Kool Aid, and I remembered it had been one of my favorites.

We left the orphanage after serving lunch to the kids, and when I asked Ellen where she wanted to go to eat, she told me it didn't matter much to her, because she wasn't that hungry anymore. I told her she shouldn't feel that bad, because the boys in the orphanage had it a lot better than some of the orphans in other countries. They had a place to live, and food provided for them daily.

I then told her that all the boys would be having pizza delivered to the orphanage for supper, a Monday night tradition that Uncle Bunny had come up with. He knew this pizza restaurant that had given him a good deal on forty large pizzas every Monday. All the bigger kids had pizza, but some of the younger kids had to have a different food due to their age, or their systems ability to digest pizza.

Sister Clara had told me that all the kids were allowed to eat as much as they wanted to, on pizza night, and that there was always some pizza left over after they got done eating. It was a popular item on Tuesday's breakfast menu. It wasn't that big of a deal to most outsiders, but I knew that it was the culinary highlight of every older kid living in St. Cecelia's. It was almost the first question I had asked Frank Clooney when he started asking me about some of Uncle Bunny's charitable activities being continued. When people have so little to look forward to, you don't want to take away one of the few bright spots they can get excited about.

"You really grew up there, Kenny? You looked like those kids we saw in the cafeteria line today?"

"Yes. I feel like I'm still part of them. Once you live like that for awhile, you always feel like you're a part of it. One of the things I'm trying to do is to see if I can't help some of the bigger, older, boys find families that will adopt them. Most of the boys aged five and under will be adopted sometime in this next year. Less than a third of the kids seven to nine, and almost none of the boys ten years old or older. I was almost fifteen when I got adopted. I'd already given up on it ever happening to me. A big part of it was my fault though. I had a real bad attitude. That was why I never got adopted when I was young, and why they decided to kick me out after I finished the ninth grade. I was so lucky that they decided to do that when they did."

"I understand why you said all those things to me when I was up in your office before. Seeing that place, the orphanage, and knowing you lived there for a long time, I can see why you don't think my problems are so bad. They're bad to me though. I don't know how I'd feel if I lived in a place like St. Cecelia's, but I still hate the way my life's turning out right now."

"Change it then. Decide what you need to do to change it, then go ahead and do it. It doesn't solve anything to walk around feeling sorry for yourself. Decide what would make you feel better, and then work to make it happen."

"That isn't what you did. You even admit that you got lucky."

"That's right, I did admit it. I never said I deserved all that I've been given. Mostly, it was just dumb luck where I ended up. I still think I'd have been okay once I was old enough to take care of myself. I studied hard in school, and I paid a lot of attention to how people did things, and how they acted. I was making myself ready, so that I'd be able to take care of myself. You're old enough to take care of yourself, Ellen. You'll never get started so long as you're feeling sorry for yourself, and trying to find an easy way to escape."

"You think I'm looking for the easy way? You're an asshole, Kenny! You think you know all the answers. Just because you found a way, that doesn't mean everyone has a path to being happy. Some of us are just stuck in a situation where they can't ever escape, or even hope to be happy."

"Maybe you're right, Ellen, maybe your particular situation is totally hopeless. Explain all the obstacles to me. What's the biggest thing that prevents you from being happy?"

"My mother. You've seen how she is. She doesn't even have a driver's license."

"What would happen if you stopped rescuing her, Ellen? Do you think she'd stop being able to function? You should give her limits on what you're willing to put up with, and then stick by them. Make sure you don't set limits that you won't be able to live with enforcing though. You need to wean her from being so dependent on you. You'll be a legal adult in a few months. You need to start preparing for your independence, and for making your mother responsible for taking care of herself, so you can be independent."

"She wouldn't allow that. You don't know how she gets."

"It isn't her choice, Ellen, it's yours. You pretend like you're trapped, but you're the one who accepts her demands on you. The next time she wants something you don't want to give her, tell her no. This constant need to have you where she can see you can't continue. It isn't healthy for either of you. Tell her you need to have a life of your own. Your mother will have to make her own decisions about how she's going to handle that. If she chooses to get drunk every night, and then go out and drive a car, that's her own decision, and she'll have to live with the consequences."

"You're a real bastard, Kenny. You aren't anything like I thought you were. She's my mother. I'm not going to just abandon her."

"Really, what do you think it was when you swallowed half of Shirley's parent's medicine cabinet? Wasn't that you trying to abandon your mother?"

"Let's go. I really don't want to be around you anymore."

I stood up and motioned the waitress to come over with the lunch check. I looked it over briefly and gave her the check, along with the money to pay for everything. Neither one of us spoke on the ride back to the company. I didn't think I'd said anything wrong. If she did, that was her problem, not mine.