Moving Up, Part Four
Ack! It's been two weeks since the last installment of Moving Up! And didn't I promised weekly installments? No, actually, I did not. Besides, this is a free online novel, and you get what you pay for. No, I mean, never look a gift horse in the mouth. Or, no ... beggars can't be choosers. Or ... well, dammit, there are lots of clichés appropriate to this situation. Pick one.
Anyway, when we last saw Avery, he went in to interview for the position of manager of the restocking department at the Main Library. The interviewer was his old boss McGee - now the head of the Library - who, after giving Avery a bit of a hard time, hired him on the spot.
*****
"I never liked that Maxine. I knew from the start that she was no good," McGee intoned, pacing his office and holding a thick manila file. He was even more imposing standing up than he was behind the desk. Avery was sitting in a too-small chair in front of the desk - a different chair than he had sat in the previous morning. Had McGee switched the chair out to make him less comfortable?
"Well, no one on the staff liked her, either."
"No one on my staff, maybe, kid. But after three years she'd filled her cronies in almost every position. And that's the biggest problem we've got. Those people downstairs aren't going to be loyal to you, and they sure as hell ain't gonna be able to work well enough to get this place running the way I want it to."
"What are you getting at?"
"New blood, kid." McGee coughed and wheezed a bit. "The police took care of the first step in clearing this place out, but I'm going to do the second part. We've got far too many people here who floated in on a corrupt cloud, and we gotta do some housecleaning." Avery winced at the mixed metaphor.
"As it is, sir, we're short staffed in restocking. I really can't afford to have my staff reduced any further."
"You can't afford not to, you mean!" McGee bellowed. "Dammit, kid! You'd be better off with one good, honest person than a stadium full of incompetents and thieves!" McGee was pounding on the desk. Avery worried that people in the hall were probably wondering what was going on in the office.
McGee threw the manila folder down on the desk. It was marked Personnel. "Kid, you've got eleven people in your department right now. Wanda, Stacy, and Carl are goners. That leaves you with eight. I want that down to six. From there, we'll rebuild."
"Wait, wait ... six people? I'm telling you, the department can't be run on that."
McGee shook his head. "It doesn't have to be, kid. Dammit, are you even listening?"
Avery stared back at McGee, trying to follow what the old man was saying. This being his first management meeting, things seemed to be going very fast. "Okay, six." He paused. "Who's left?"
"Anthony, Julio, Desmond, Harriet, Chandler, Annabel, and Sean."
"That's only seven."
"You're the eighth, kid. Did you forget your coffee this morning or something?"
Avery chuckled. "No sir."
"Good," McGee said, and then lowered his voice, "cause we've got some work to do."
Avery picked up the department roster sheet from the file and stared at the names. Eight of the names, including Maxine and Leonard, had been crossed out in black already. Wanda, Stacy, and Carl were struck through in red ink. Avery picked up a pencil, and starting chewing on the end while reading through the list. He couldn't very well fire Tony or Harriet - they were his friends. But, of course, that wasn't fair to the others that his friends should get special treatment. Avery mulled it over in his head - no, he couldn't fire Tony or Harriet because they were good workers. He knew them, he knew well how they worked. They deserved to stay. He took the pencil and made a little check mark next to their names.
"Keeping your friends, hey?" McGee asked.
"Yes."
"You sure about that? Sure you're not playing favorites?"
"I'm sure. They're good workers."
"You trust yourself on this?"
"I do. Do you?"
McGee paused, squinting and staring back at Avery. "Yeah, I do."
"Good."
Avery tried to play things cool, but on the inside his stomach was twisted in knots. He had just made his first managerial decision, and old man McGee agreed with him. Of course, that still left five people, of which we could only keep three. His eyes scanned the names over and over, as if hoping that the answer would just jump off the page at him. Instead, the letters all just started to blend together. He was trying to think through this logically, but how do you compare people? This wasn't mathematics, there was no obviously correct answer. He stared harder and harder at the sheet, finally closing his eyes in frustration.
"Chandler," Avery finally said.
"Chandler?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He's good with the stacks. He's fast and accurate. But his attendance stinks. He's late all the time. I can't be stuck wondering where my employees are when they're supposed to be at work."
"Fair enough."
Avery returned to the sheet. Four names left. "Sean," he said, much faster than last time.
"Really?" McGee said, sounding honestly surprised. "Why?"
"He just isn't dedicated to this job. He's always talking about how he'd rather work someplace else."
"Then I guess this is his chance," McGee snorted.
Avery crossed out Sean and Chandler on the list and checked next to Julio, Desmond, and Annabel. So, this was his department. It seemed tiny (and it was - less than a third of the previous group).
"Alright, kid. I'm going to call Sean, Chandler, and the others up here at the end of the day to let them know what we've decided."
"No."
"No?"
"No, I should be the one to tell them." Avery paused. "It was my decision. I should be the one to tell them."
"That's good, kid. That's good. See, this is what I knew you had," McGee said, pointing a thick finger at Avery's chest. "Now, you've gotta rebuild this department. Here's the bad news - I'm only letting you have twelve people down there. Maxine let that department get bloated with extra people. You need to fix that."
"What's the good news?"
"The good news is that now that the supervisor isn't embezzling funds, you'll actually have enough money to pay these people decently and still have enough for some technology upgrades."
"Barcode scanners. We need new barcode scanners desperately. The old models are clunky and heavy, and the interface sucks."
"Okay."
"Beyond that, I'll need time to see where we can best improve. Can I get back to you in say, a month?"
"Sure, kid. Take your time. The money ain't going anywhere this time." McGee laughed.
"Now, I need to get back downstairs. I need to let me people know what's going on."
"You do that, kid."
Avery stood up to leave, but he paused as he got to the door. "I have to ask. Would you have done the same thing?"
McGee smiled. "Here's the thing, kid - you own this decision. It don't matter what I would have done." Avery started to look a bit ill. "But I'm behind you one hundred percent."
Avery nodded his head and left.
*****
Avery headed down three flights of stairs to the restocking department. He was walking far faster than usual, and nearly slipped on the old marble steps, worn by decades of use. He was nervous about having to fire five people. This was something he had never done before - naturally, since he'd never been in a managerial position before - but more importantly, it was something he didn't realize that he would be expected to do, especially not this soon. With the department already short-staffed, he figured that he'd shortly be adding people, not subtracting. Most importantly, he had no idea how to go about firing people who until the previous day had been his co-workers, not his subordinates. He had a feeling this wasn't going to go well.
When he arrived downstairs, he was immediately met by Sean. "Hey, Key! I need to talk to you. There's a lot of rumors flying around here, and I need to know where I stand."
Well, there it was - Avery had wanted to wait till the end of the day, but now the issue was presenting itself front and center.
"Fine, Sean. Meet me in my office in five minutes," Avery said, trying to buy a little time.
"No, I want to talk about this now," Sean said, positioning himself in Avery's path. "Why can't we discuss this now?"
"Okay, fine. Let's discuss this now." Avery looked Sean straight in the eyes and took a deep breath. He had never realized before just how tall Sean was. "You're fired."
Avery wished that he could have recorded the look on Sean's face for posterity. Not because he thought that someone looking crushed by bad news was funny, but because it was so much better than the reaction that immediately followed.
"What!" Sean barked, much louder than anyone usually spoke in the department (this was a library, after all). "Who the hell do you think you are, Key! Yesterday morning you were just the little pissant who drove the bookmobile, and now you think you're some bigshot, hey?"
"I don't think anything, Sean. I'm the manager now, and I've made this decision."
"Oh, look! The little puppet can talk!" Sean yelled. "Who's pulling your strings, Pinocchio?"
Avery chuckled, which wasn't really the best idea.
"What the hell are you laughing at, huh? You think this is funny? This is my life!"
"Okay, Sean. Just calm down."
"Don't you tell me what to do, asshole!"
A crowd had started to gather. Avery suddenly felt trapped. Sean was yelling, and several of the other employees were shouting questions, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Okay, that's enough," Avery said, his very low but firm. The shouting continued. "I said enough!" His shout caught everyone by surprise. He turned and glared at the crowd and Sean.
"Sean and I are having a private conversation, and we are going to continue it in my office. The rest of you should get back to work."
Avery stalked off towards his office, and no one followed. He strode inside and closed the door. Once inside, he loosened his tie and rolled his sleeves. There was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
It was Sean. He still looked angry.
"Have a seat, Sean," Avery said, motioning towards the chair. Avery sat down. "I don't have good news for you, Sean, but I'd like to discuss this in a more professional manner."
Sean looked a bit chastened. He took the seat Avery had offered.
"Sean, I have made the decision to let you go."
"Why? What the hell ...!" Sean started, but caught himself. There was a silence for several seconds. "Why am I being fired."
"I need people who come to work everyday and want to work here - who see what we do here as important."
"Oh, Jeez, Avery! We restock shelves at the friggin' library!"
"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Avery said with greater force than he intended. "You may see this as just restocking shelves, but I see this as providing an important public service."
Avery could see that Sean wasn't buying it, but he continued anyway, for his sake as much as Sean's. "Without us, the library doesn't work - we're just as crucial to it's functioning as the librarians, the docents, and the archivists. Without us, this place ceases to function. Now, maybe that's not something you care about, but it's something that I care about a great deal. And if you're not going to help me, there's no reason for you to stick around."
Sean was silent for a moment. Avery began to think that maybe he had gotten his point around.
"That's a lot of horseshit." Or perhaps he had not.
Sean stood up and marched out of the room, slamming Avery's door and heading right out the backdoor onto the dock. After a moment, Avery opened the door and looked out at the assembled workers, who were now all standing around the sorting table, waiting for him to say something.
"Chandler, I'd like to see you in my office."
The rest of the firings went far smoother than Sean's. Avery didn't relish the task, but he tried to explain to each person the reasons for their being let go, and to help them understand that it wasn't personal. He explained to each their severance compensation (Sean would have to wait to hear about that through the mail), and even offered Chandler and Stacy that he would be willing to be a character reference. Even so, it was a grueling process. Carl reminded Avery that he had three kids, one of them in college. Wanda cried, and Avery felt like he was being a phony in trying to comfort her.
By the time he was done meeting with each person, it was nearly four o'clock. Avery emerged from his office. The remaining employees were sitting around the sorting table, chatting and not really working. Avery realized that, of course, they were all expecting him to drop the ax them next. When they saw him, they turned tense and went quiet.
"It's over," Avery said, flatly. The collective sigh was audible.
"What's going on, Ave?" Tony asked, somewhat forcefully.
"McGee and I both believe that this department is vitally important to this library," Avery started, "and therefore, we need the best people available. The only way to accomplish that was to whittle the staff down to the core." Avery looked at each of the five remaining employees - Tony, Julio, Desmond, Harriet, and Annabel. "You're the core. You all have the experience and the dedication to make this place run efficiently, like it should. This department had become a mess over the last two and a half years, and it's now our job to fix it - because when this place runs efficiently, the whole library system runs efficiently.
"And remember, we're not just some invisible cog on the machine anymore. After the way Maxine ran this place, people are going to be watching us - the Mayor, the media, the public - so every mistake will be magnified. No one here wants to end up on the evening news again."
"Yeah, cause that went so well for you last time, hey?" Tony quipped. Avery started to laugh, breaking the tension.
"Look, everyone. I really care about this place. I know you all care about it, too. That's why you're here." Avery paused.
"So, how are we supposed to run this department with five people?" Julio asked.
"Six."
"Uh, no. There's only five of us now."
"Six - I'm counting myself. I may be the manager now, but I'm still capable of sorting books, driving the bookmobile, stocking shelves. I'm going to be working alongside all of you."
"Maxine never did that," Desmond noted.
"Well, I'm not Maxine. Not unless you find a couple hundred grand in the lining of my coat." Avery smiled.
"Seriously, though - we're going to need more than just six people," Annabel said. "How soon can we expect help?"
"Soon. Very soon," Avery replied. "I'm going to start looking for new candidates immediately. But don't expect me to find new people instantly. It's a lot more important that we hire the right people than that we hire them quickly. In the meantime ... well, there's going to be a backlog, I'm sure. But nothing that can't be fixed later."
"You sound suspiciously confident," Harriet noted.
"I am. I expect great things from this group."
*****
The ride home on the bus that night was a roller-coaster for Avery. On the one hand was the gut-wrenching memories of the people he had to fire. In his head, he kept going over the words he used - Avery could hear his voice over and over again as he said "we have to let you go." He chided himself for using such a wimpy euphemism - you let too-small fish go after you catch them, but people just get fired. Maybe it would have been better to do things short and quick - you're fired, here's you severance, see you never. But Avery had felt the need to explain his decision, almost as if he was trying to convince the people being fired that they deserved it. Really, he realized, he was trying to convince himself that it was the right decision. Is this what being a manager is like - constantly second-guessing yourself?
On the other hand, Avery was pleased with the group of people he was left with. As wrenching as those firings were, it was the only way to pare the staff down to the core group. And everyone who was left was someone that Avery trusted - as a friend, as an employee, as a person. And he felt confident that his little pep-rally at the end of the day had convinced them of that trust. Good morale was the only way he could see out of the situation that he found himself in - understaffed and over-scrutinized.
More than anything, Avery was itching to get home and talk to Kate. She always had a way of reassuring him - making him confident in his decisions, or convincing him of a path that he hadn't yet chosen.
As he came in the door, he saw that Kate was on the telephone. He smiled, and she gave him a half-wave and then turned her back, walking into the back room off the kitchen. Avery figured she was talking to her mother about her father's health - he had been diagnosed with cancer five years earlier, and despite constant treatments, the cancer kept returning. Kate's mom sometimes thought that her husband should cease treatment and let the cancer run its course - allowing him to die with dignity. But Kate's dad was not the kind of guy who would ever cease treatment - he was a fighter through and through, and he didn't seem to think there was any dignity in death as long as any chance of survival remained. Avery frankly didn't know how Kate dealt with talking her mom through such hard times. His own instinct was to fight as long as possible, but to quit once the outcome was clear. But Kate respected her father too much to be that pragmatic about it, and so she spent a lot of time talking her mother through some of the harder decisions that her dad had made.
All of this thinking about his father-in-law's illness started to get Avery down, and he found himself staring at a piece of artwork on the wall that he had never thought much about before. Kate's friend Susanna had made the piece - a half-collage, half-painting - and Avery just now realized it was a man being literally pulled in two directions. The aptness of this artwork to his father-in-law's condition was readily apparent, and Avery suddenly felt himself overcome by a bittersweet feeling of loss.
At that moment, he turned to see Kate walking back into the kitchen. She was no longer on the phone. Avery was mentally preparing himself to console her when he realized the she didn't look sad. In fact, she was grinning from ear to ear.
"I got it!"
"What? Got what?"
"I got a research fellowship and a $10,000 grant!"
Avery was dumb-struck. He just stood staring at Kate, his jaw hanging open. Kate ran forward, arms outstretched and jumped into his arms.
"I got it! I got it!"
"But, I ... I ... when? When? What?" Avery was desperately searching for words as Kate kissed him all around his face.
"I apply for this a few months back. The deadline passed and I never heard anything, so I figured my application was rejected."
"What application?"
"I submitted a research proposal on the effects of overseas deployment on the academic performance of children of military personnel."
"When did you do this?" Avery asked as he put her down.
"I told you - a few months ago."
"No ... I mean, when did you start working up this proposal? How did I not know about it?"
"It's something that I've been working on for a while. Y'know, something that I work on between eating bon-bons during the day." She smiled. "But I never thought it had a chance, so I never really told you about it."
"Of course it had a chance! Kate, this is fantastic. You're fantastic!" He kissed her deeply. "We need to celebrate!"
*****
When Avery said they had to celebrate, he meant only one thing - they had to go to ZERO, a punk-rock coffee shop on Center St., a few blocks from their house. Avery had been going there for years, ever since his time at UWM. Years later, he took Kate there on their second date to see a local band perform. After that, it became their go-to place for fun occasions, especially once they bought a house in the neighborhood. For the last couple years, they had gone less and less frequently - money was tight and there just weren't too many things to celebrate. But with Avery's promotion and Kate's fellowship, it seemed like the perfect time to go.
As they walked to ZERO, a light rain fell, making the leaves piled in the street damp. Avery had worn his ratty old boots, and they were soon covered in bits of wet leaves and dirt, though Kate somehow managed to keep her Converse clean. Walking in to the shop, Avery couldn't help but notice how young the other patrons were.
"Jeez. I bet we're the only married couple here," he whispered to Kate. "When did we get so old?"
"Oh, it's just you imagination," she answered, not sounding too sure of herself. "These kids aren't any younger than usual."
"Maybe, but we must be older - you called them kids."
"I did not," Kate corrected, even though she knew he was right.
Still bickering in hushed tones, they approached the counter. "I'll have a double caramel macchiato," Kate said.
"And for you, sir?"
"Sir? Are you talking to me?" Avery asked. The young man at the counter, with a twice-pierced lip, nail polish, and a bicycle-chain necklace just stared back, confused. "How old do you ..." Avery stopped himself. If he had finished the sentence, he was fairly certain that he would age fifteen years on the spot. "I'll have a latte, thanks," he said after a pause.
As they walked over to a booth, Kate looked at Avery with wide eyes. "That guy is totally going to spit in your coffee," she said with a laugh.
"He is not!" Avery insisted, trying to keep his voice low. "Is he? He wouldn't really do that, would he?"
Kate just kept laughing and sat down. After a few minutes, when the same young man brought their drinks to the table, Avery thanked him effusively for the coffee.
"Now he just thinks you're hitting on him."
Avery's face turned red. "Let's change the subject."
"Fair enough."
"Do you notice something wrong in here?"
"Ave, I don't really think he spit in your coffee."
"No, forget about the coffee. Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Exactly!" Besides the chatter of the dozen or so people sitting around in booths and at a counter that looked out onto the street, there was no sound in the whole shop. "My dear, this is a punk-rock coffee shop, not a library," Avery said in a faux-sophisticated voice. "We need some tunes." From his pocket, he produced a handful of quarters. "Go nuts."
"Oh, hell yeah!" Kate exclaimed, snatching the quarters and dashing across the room to the jukebox. One of the things that made ZERO so much fun was that the jukebox was always stocked with an ever-changing array of quality music - punk, new wave, alternative, indie - culled from the collection of various employees and regular customers. The only song that was always available was the shop's namesake song by the Smashing Pumpkins (the shop had been renamed for the song a number of years back - originally it was called "Hasenpfeffer").
Having made her selection, Kate raced back to the booth and grabbed Avery by the hand. "Come on!"
"What did you choose?"
"Oh, you'll see," said answered, having dragged him to the middle of the room. After a few seconds, The Smiths' Panic came blaring out of the too-loud speakers:
Anyway, when we last saw Avery, he went in to interview for the position of manager of the restocking department at the Main Library. The interviewer was his old boss McGee - now the head of the Library - who, after giving Avery a bit of a hard time, hired him on the spot.
*****
"I never liked that Maxine. I knew from the start that she was no good," McGee intoned, pacing his office and holding a thick manila file. He was even more imposing standing up than he was behind the desk. Avery was sitting in a too-small chair in front of the desk - a different chair than he had sat in the previous morning. Had McGee switched the chair out to make him less comfortable?
"Well, no one on the staff liked her, either."
"No one on my staff, maybe, kid. But after three years she'd filled her cronies in almost every position. And that's the biggest problem we've got. Those people downstairs aren't going to be loyal to you, and they sure as hell ain't gonna be able to work well enough to get this place running the way I want it to."
"What are you getting at?"
"New blood, kid." McGee coughed and wheezed a bit. "The police took care of the first step in clearing this place out, but I'm going to do the second part. We've got far too many people here who floated in on a corrupt cloud, and we gotta do some housecleaning." Avery winced at the mixed metaphor.
"As it is, sir, we're short staffed in restocking. I really can't afford to have my staff reduced any further."
"You can't afford not to, you mean!" McGee bellowed. "Dammit, kid! You'd be better off with one good, honest person than a stadium full of incompetents and thieves!" McGee was pounding on the desk. Avery worried that people in the hall were probably wondering what was going on in the office.
McGee threw the manila folder down on the desk. It was marked Personnel. "Kid, you've got eleven people in your department right now. Wanda, Stacy, and Carl are goners. That leaves you with eight. I want that down to six. From there, we'll rebuild."
"Wait, wait ... six people? I'm telling you, the department can't be run on that."
McGee shook his head. "It doesn't have to be, kid. Dammit, are you even listening?"
Avery stared back at McGee, trying to follow what the old man was saying. This being his first management meeting, things seemed to be going very fast. "Okay, six." He paused. "Who's left?"
"Anthony, Julio, Desmond, Harriet, Chandler, Annabel, and Sean."
"That's only seven."
"You're the eighth, kid. Did you forget your coffee this morning or something?"
Avery chuckled. "No sir."
"Good," McGee said, and then lowered his voice, "cause we've got some work to do."
Avery picked up the department roster sheet from the file and stared at the names. Eight of the names, including Maxine and Leonard, had been crossed out in black already. Wanda, Stacy, and Carl were struck through in red ink. Avery picked up a pencil, and starting chewing on the end while reading through the list. He couldn't very well fire Tony or Harriet - they were his friends. But, of course, that wasn't fair to the others that his friends should get special treatment. Avery mulled it over in his head - no, he couldn't fire Tony or Harriet because they were good workers. He knew them, he knew well how they worked. They deserved to stay. He took the pencil and made a little check mark next to their names.
"Keeping your friends, hey?" McGee asked.
"Yes."
"You sure about that? Sure you're not playing favorites?"
"I'm sure. They're good workers."
"You trust yourself on this?"
"I do. Do you?"
McGee paused, squinting and staring back at Avery. "Yeah, I do."
"Good."
Avery tried to play things cool, but on the inside his stomach was twisted in knots. He had just made his first managerial decision, and old man McGee agreed with him. Of course, that still left five people, of which we could only keep three. His eyes scanned the names over and over, as if hoping that the answer would just jump off the page at him. Instead, the letters all just started to blend together. He was trying to think through this logically, but how do you compare people? This wasn't mathematics, there was no obviously correct answer. He stared harder and harder at the sheet, finally closing his eyes in frustration.
"Chandler," Avery finally said.
"Chandler?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"He's good with the stacks. He's fast and accurate. But his attendance stinks. He's late all the time. I can't be stuck wondering where my employees are when they're supposed to be at work."
"Fair enough."
Avery returned to the sheet. Four names left. "Sean," he said, much faster than last time.
"Really?" McGee said, sounding honestly surprised. "Why?"
"He just isn't dedicated to this job. He's always talking about how he'd rather work someplace else."
"Then I guess this is his chance," McGee snorted.
Avery crossed out Sean and Chandler on the list and checked next to Julio, Desmond, and Annabel. So, this was his department. It seemed tiny (and it was - less than a third of the previous group).
"Alright, kid. I'm going to call Sean, Chandler, and the others up here at the end of the day to let them know what we've decided."
"No."
"No?"
"No, I should be the one to tell them." Avery paused. "It was my decision. I should be the one to tell them."
"That's good, kid. That's good. See, this is what I knew you had," McGee said, pointing a thick finger at Avery's chest. "Now, you've gotta rebuild this department. Here's the bad news - I'm only letting you have twelve people down there. Maxine let that department get bloated with extra people. You need to fix that."
"What's the good news?"
"The good news is that now that the supervisor isn't embezzling funds, you'll actually have enough money to pay these people decently and still have enough for some technology upgrades."
"Barcode scanners. We need new barcode scanners desperately. The old models are clunky and heavy, and the interface sucks."
"Okay."
"Beyond that, I'll need time to see where we can best improve. Can I get back to you in say, a month?"
"Sure, kid. Take your time. The money ain't going anywhere this time." McGee laughed.
"Now, I need to get back downstairs. I need to let me people know what's going on."
"You do that, kid."
Avery stood up to leave, but he paused as he got to the door. "I have to ask. Would you have done the same thing?"
McGee smiled. "Here's the thing, kid - you own this decision. It don't matter what I would have done." Avery started to look a bit ill. "But I'm behind you one hundred percent."
Avery nodded his head and left.
*****
Avery headed down three flights of stairs to the restocking department. He was walking far faster than usual, and nearly slipped on the old marble steps, worn by decades of use. He was nervous about having to fire five people. This was something he had never done before - naturally, since he'd never been in a managerial position before - but more importantly, it was something he didn't realize that he would be expected to do, especially not this soon. With the department already short-staffed, he figured that he'd shortly be adding people, not subtracting. Most importantly, he had no idea how to go about firing people who until the previous day had been his co-workers, not his subordinates. He had a feeling this wasn't going to go well.
When he arrived downstairs, he was immediately met by Sean. "Hey, Key! I need to talk to you. There's a lot of rumors flying around here, and I need to know where I stand."
Well, there it was - Avery had wanted to wait till the end of the day, but now the issue was presenting itself front and center.
"Fine, Sean. Meet me in my office in five minutes," Avery said, trying to buy a little time.
"No, I want to talk about this now," Sean said, positioning himself in Avery's path. "Why can't we discuss this now?"
"Okay, fine. Let's discuss this now." Avery looked Sean straight in the eyes and took a deep breath. He had never realized before just how tall Sean was. "You're fired."
Avery wished that he could have recorded the look on Sean's face for posterity. Not because he thought that someone looking crushed by bad news was funny, but because it was so much better than the reaction that immediately followed.
"What!" Sean barked, much louder than anyone usually spoke in the department (this was a library, after all). "Who the hell do you think you are, Key! Yesterday morning you were just the little pissant who drove the bookmobile, and now you think you're some bigshot, hey?"
"I don't think anything, Sean. I'm the manager now, and I've made this decision."
"Oh, look! The little puppet can talk!" Sean yelled. "Who's pulling your strings, Pinocchio?"
Avery chuckled, which wasn't really the best idea.
"What the hell are you laughing at, huh? You think this is funny? This is my life!"
"Okay, Sean. Just calm down."
"Don't you tell me what to do, asshole!"
A crowd had started to gather. Avery suddenly felt trapped. Sean was yelling, and several of the other employees were shouting questions, trying to figure out what was going on.
"Okay, that's enough," Avery said, his very low but firm. The shouting continued. "I said enough!" His shout caught everyone by surprise. He turned and glared at the crowd and Sean.
"Sean and I are having a private conversation, and we are going to continue it in my office. The rest of you should get back to work."
Avery stalked off towards his office, and no one followed. He strode inside and closed the door. Once inside, he loosened his tie and rolled his sleeves. There was a knock on the door.
"Come in."
It was Sean. He still looked angry.
"Have a seat, Sean," Avery said, motioning towards the chair. Avery sat down. "I don't have good news for you, Sean, but I'd like to discuss this in a more professional manner."
Sean looked a bit chastened. He took the seat Avery had offered.
"Sean, I have made the decision to let you go."
"Why? What the hell ...!" Sean started, but caught himself. There was a silence for several seconds. "Why am I being fired."
"I need people who come to work everyday and want to work here - who see what we do here as important."
"Oh, Jeez, Avery! We restock shelves at the friggin' library!"
"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Avery said with greater force than he intended. "You may see this as just restocking shelves, but I see this as providing an important public service."
Avery could see that Sean wasn't buying it, but he continued anyway, for his sake as much as Sean's. "Without us, the library doesn't work - we're just as crucial to it's functioning as the librarians, the docents, and the archivists. Without us, this place ceases to function. Now, maybe that's not something you care about, but it's something that I care about a great deal. And if you're not going to help me, there's no reason for you to stick around."
Sean was silent for a moment. Avery began to think that maybe he had gotten his point around.
"That's a lot of horseshit." Or perhaps he had not.
Sean stood up and marched out of the room, slamming Avery's door and heading right out the backdoor onto the dock. After a moment, Avery opened the door and looked out at the assembled workers, who were now all standing around the sorting table, waiting for him to say something.
"Chandler, I'd like to see you in my office."
The rest of the firings went far smoother than Sean's. Avery didn't relish the task, but he tried to explain to each person the reasons for their being let go, and to help them understand that it wasn't personal. He explained to each their severance compensation (Sean would have to wait to hear about that through the mail), and even offered Chandler and Stacy that he would be willing to be a character reference. Even so, it was a grueling process. Carl reminded Avery that he had three kids, one of them in college. Wanda cried, and Avery felt like he was being a phony in trying to comfort her.
By the time he was done meeting with each person, it was nearly four o'clock. Avery emerged from his office. The remaining employees were sitting around the sorting table, chatting and not really working. Avery realized that, of course, they were all expecting him to drop the ax them next. When they saw him, they turned tense and went quiet.
"It's over," Avery said, flatly. The collective sigh was audible.
"What's going on, Ave?" Tony asked, somewhat forcefully.
"McGee and I both believe that this department is vitally important to this library," Avery started, "and therefore, we need the best people available. The only way to accomplish that was to whittle the staff down to the core." Avery looked at each of the five remaining employees - Tony, Julio, Desmond, Harriet, and Annabel. "You're the core. You all have the experience and the dedication to make this place run efficiently, like it should. This department had become a mess over the last two and a half years, and it's now our job to fix it - because when this place runs efficiently, the whole library system runs efficiently.
"And remember, we're not just some invisible cog on the machine anymore. After the way Maxine ran this place, people are going to be watching us - the Mayor, the media, the public - so every mistake will be magnified. No one here wants to end up on the evening news again."
"Yeah, cause that went so well for you last time, hey?" Tony quipped. Avery started to laugh, breaking the tension.
"Look, everyone. I really care about this place. I know you all care about it, too. That's why you're here." Avery paused.
"So, how are we supposed to run this department with five people?" Julio asked.
"Six."
"Uh, no. There's only five of us now."
"Six - I'm counting myself. I may be the manager now, but I'm still capable of sorting books, driving the bookmobile, stocking shelves. I'm going to be working alongside all of you."
"Maxine never did that," Desmond noted.
"Well, I'm not Maxine. Not unless you find a couple hundred grand in the lining of my coat." Avery smiled.
"Seriously, though - we're going to need more than just six people," Annabel said. "How soon can we expect help?"
"Soon. Very soon," Avery replied. "I'm going to start looking for new candidates immediately. But don't expect me to find new people instantly. It's a lot more important that we hire the right people than that we hire them quickly. In the meantime ... well, there's going to be a backlog, I'm sure. But nothing that can't be fixed later."
"You sound suspiciously confident," Harriet noted.
"I am. I expect great things from this group."
*****
The ride home on the bus that night was a roller-coaster for Avery. On the one hand was the gut-wrenching memories of the people he had to fire. In his head, he kept going over the words he used - Avery could hear his voice over and over again as he said "we have to let you go." He chided himself for using such a wimpy euphemism - you let too-small fish go after you catch them, but people just get fired. Maybe it would have been better to do things short and quick - you're fired, here's you severance, see you never. But Avery had felt the need to explain his decision, almost as if he was trying to convince the people being fired that they deserved it. Really, he realized, he was trying to convince himself that it was the right decision. Is this what being a manager is like - constantly second-guessing yourself?
On the other hand, Avery was pleased with the group of people he was left with. As wrenching as those firings were, it was the only way to pare the staff down to the core group. And everyone who was left was someone that Avery trusted - as a friend, as an employee, as a person. And he felt confident that his little pep-rally at the end of the day had convinced them of that trust. Good morale was the only way he could see out of the situation that he found himself in - understaffed and over-scrutinized.
More than anything, Avery was itching to get home and talk to Kate. She always had a way of reassuring him - making him confident in his decisions, or convincing him of a path that he hadn't yet chosen.
As he came in the door, he saw that Kate was on the telephone. He smiled, and she gave him a half-wave and then turned her back, walking into the back room off the kitchen. Avery figured she was talking to her mother about her father's health - he had been diagnosed with cancer five years earlier, and despite constant treatments, the cancer kept returning. Kate's mom sometimes thought that her husband should cease treatment and let the cancer run its course - allowing him to die with dignity. But Kate's dad was not the kind of guy who would ever cease treatment - he was a fighter through and through, and he didn't seem to think there was any dignity in death as long as any chance of survival remained. Avery frankly didn't know how Kate dealt with talking her mom through such hard times. His own instinct was to fight as long as possible, but to quit once the outcome was clear. But Kate respected her father too much to be that pragmatic about it, and so she spent a lot of time talking her mother through some of the harder decisions that her dad had made.
All of this thinking about his father-in-law's illness started to get Avery down, and he found himself staring at a piece of artwork on the wall that he had never thought much about before. Kate's friend Susanna had made the piece - a half-collage, half-painting - and Avery just now realized it was a man being literally pulled in two directions. The aptness of this artwork to his father-in-law's condition was readily apparent, and Avery suddenly felt himself overcome by a bittersweet feeling of loss.
At that moment, he turned to see Kate walking back into the kitchen. She was no longer on the phone. Avery was mentally preparing himself to console her when he realized the she didn't look sad. In fact, she was grinning from ear to ear.
"I got it!"
"What? Got what?"
"I got a research fellowship and a $10,000 grant!"
Avery was dumb-struck. He just stood staring at Kate, his jaw hanging open. Kate ran forward, arms outstretched and jumped into his arms.
"I got it! I got it!"
"But, I ... I ... when? When? What?" Avery was desperately searching for words as Kate kissed him all around his face.
"I apply for this a few months back. The deadline passed and I never heard anything, so I figured my application was rejected."
"What application?"
"I submitted a research proposal on the effects of overseas deployment on the academic performance of children of military personnel."
"When did you do this?" Avery asked as he put her down.
"I told you - a few months ago."
"No ... I mean, when did you start working up this proposal? How did I not know about it?"
"It's something that I've been working on for a while. Y'know, something that I work on between eating bon-bons during the day." She smiled. "But I never thought it had a chance, so I never really told you about it."
"Of course it had a chance! Kate, this is fantastic. You're fantastic!" He kissed her deeply. "We need to celebrate!"
*****
When Avery said they had to celebrate, he meant only one thing - they had to go to ZERO, a punk-rock coffee shop on Center St., a few blocks from their house. Avery had been going there for years, ever since his time at UWM. Years later, he took Kate there on their second date to see a local band perform. After that, it became their go-to place for fun occasions, especially once they bought a house in the neighborhood. For the last couple years, they had gone less and less frequently - money was tight and there just weren't too many things to celebrate. But with Avery's promotion and Kate's fellowship, it seemed like the perfect time to go.
As they walked to ZERO, a light rain fell, making the leaves piled in the street damp. Avery had worn his ratty old boots, and they were soon covered in bits of wet leaves and dirt, though Kate somehow managed to keep her Converse clean. Walking in to the shop, Avery couldn't help but notice how young the other patrons were.
"Jeez. I bet we're the only married couple here," he whispered to Kate. "When did we get so old?"
"Oh, it's just you imagination," she answered, not sounding too sure of herself. "These kids aren't any younger than usual."
"Maybe, but we must be older - you called them kids."
"I did not," Kate corrected, even though she knew he was right.
Still bickering in hushed tones, they approached the counter. "I'll have a double caramel macchiato," Kate said.
"And for you, sir?"
"Sir? Are you talking to me?" Avery asked. The young man at the counter, with a twice-pierced lip, nail polish, and a bicycle-chain necklace just stared back, confused. "How old do you ..." Avery stopped himself. If he had finished the sentence, he was fairly certain that he would age fifteen years on the spot. "I'll have a latte, thanks," he said after a pause.
As they walked over to a booth, Kate looked at Avery with wide eyes. "That guy is totally going to spit in your coffee," she said with a laugh.
"He is not!" Avery insisted, trying to keep his voice low. "Is he? He wouldn't really do that, would he?"
Kate just kept laughing and sat down. After a few minutes, when the same young man brought their drinks to the table, Avery thanked him effusively for the coffee.
"Now he just thinks you're hitting on him."
Avery's face turned red. "Let's change the subject."
"Fair enough."
"Do you notice something wrong in here?"
"Ave, I don't really think he spit in your coffee."
"No, forget about the coffee. Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Exactly!" Besides the chatter of the dozen or so people sitting around in booths and at a counter that looked out onto the street, there was no sound in the whole shop. "My dear, this is a punk-rock coffee shop, not a library," Avery said in a faux-sophisticated voice. "We need some tunes." From his pocket, he produced a handful of quarters. "Go nuts."
"Oh, hell yeah!" Kate exclaimed, snatching the quarters and dashing across the room to the jukebox. One of the things that made ZERO so much fun was that the jukebox was always stocked with an ever-changing array of quality music - punk, new wave, alternative, indie - culled from the collection of various employees and regular customers. The only song that was always available was the shop's namesake song by the Smashing Pumpkins (the shop had been renamed for the song a number of years back - originally it was called "Hasenpfeffer").
Having made her selection, Kate raced back to the booth and grabbed Avery by the hand. "Come on!"
"What did you choose?"
"Oh, you'll see," said answered, having dragged him to the middle of the room. After a few seconds, The Smiths' Panic came blaring out of the too-loud speakers:
Panic on the streets on London!
Panic on the streets of Birmingham!
"Now let's dance!" Kate shouted as she started moving. Neither she nor Avery were accomplished dancers, but they sure had fun trying.
As they danced, Avery lean in towards Kate "You do realize everyone's looking, right?"
"So what!"
Burn down the disco
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music that they constantly play
It says nothing to me about my life
Hang the blessed DJ
Because the music they constantly play
...
Hang the DJ! Hang the DJ! Hang the DJ!
Hang the DJ! Hang the DJ! Hang the DJ!
They danced through the length of the song (mercifully short, for the sake of Avery's ego) before returning to their booth to talk while the remainder of Kate's selections played - The Violent Femmes, Tori Amos, Sonic Youth, The Talking Heads, Patti Smith, with some Guns 'N Roses thrown in for irony's sake. Mostly the conversation veered towards the sort of inane topics that Kate and Avery loved to discuss. They could spend literally hours discussing strategies for eating breakfast cereal or how ones sneakers determine their politics (Libertarians wear Adidas, by the way).
Finally, as the night wore on and the music quieted down, they started discussing more adult topics. "So what's the plan for researching your dissertation?"
"I'm thinking that I'm going to try to do everything I can working from home and from campus - there are a lot of primary sources online for my topic. Beyond that, I'll probably have to make a few trips to Madison for National Guard deployment records. And then probably to Washington D.C. for national records at some point."
"To contrast regular Army with National Guard?"
"Exactly."
"So when do you foresee going to Washington?"
"Well, I'm going to wait until I have a better sense of where the research is at before I plan it - obviously, I want to be as prepared as possible, because I only want to go once, if possible. So it's probably a couple years down the line."
Avery paused. "It's a good topic. I'm really proud of you."
Kate smiled.
*****
On the way home, Avery and Kate started talking about Avery's big news - the personnel changes at the library.
"You had to fire people?"
"Yeah, and it got kinda ugly."
"Like what do you mean?"
"Swearing, yelling, crying, door slamming. Y'know, mature adult behavior."
"Ave, I had no idea that you had such a bad day. And here I was going on and on about my good news. We should have been talking about your stuff."
"No, Kate, that's the thing - listening to your news really cheered me up. I mean, you're my wife and I love you, and I love hearing that things are going well for you - that you're finally getting the recognition that you deserve."
"Well, okay. Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"
"Honestly, yes. Today sucked, and I really don't want to rehash the gory details."
"Okay."
"Besides, I've gotta think about moving ahead with big changes in the department. No time to dwell on the past."
"What kind of changes?"
"Well, I've going to be hiring new people, and there's a lot of money in the budget for technology and stuff. I guess what I don't really know is how I'm going to find good people to hire."
"Well, what are you looking for?"
"Hard workers - honest, dedicated, smart. Y'know, perfect employees," he said with a laugh. "I guess what I really need specifically are people who aren't jaded, who are willing to invest themselves in the job."
"Have you thought about the Mayor's Students-to-Work program?"
"The what?"
"You haven't heard about this?"
"I'm not the one studying education initiatives."
Kate laughed. "It's basically a plan to help gifted high school students get entry level jobs in fields with real opportunity for advancement, instead of working at the McDonald's or whatever. All the participants are minority students with at least a B-average."
"Do you know anyone with experience in this program?"
"Yeah, there's a guy at school who works part-time at a law firm downtown. He said they had a girl there in the program - real smart, real good worker. He said the only problem was that she ended up going off to Michigan State for college."
"Hmm." Avery stopped walking. "That sounds like exactly what I need."
"Yeah, hey?"
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