by Teri Woods
Daisy sat and listened as Debbie Murtaugh explained the firm, the partners, and the exact job description for what Daisy would be expected to do. At minimum wage, it was a no-brainer. Answer the phones, direct the calls, take messages. She looks like she can handle that. She is very pretty. The partners might not like the fact that she’s black. They’ll get over it. Damn, look at the time, I have to meet Chuck Daly at Cristo’s. Shit, I won’t have time to get my nails done. Dan wants to go to dinner tonight. What will I wear, my little black dress… that always works. Let me wrap her up and get her out of here, I got less than twenty minutes to get to Cristo’s. What the hell is she over there talking about? I haven’t heard one word the poor girl’s said. Debbie sat across the desk, shaking and nodding her head, a smile, but no teeth, and a slight frown on her brow.
“I know that if I get the chance, I would be a good receptionist for your law firm.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” asked Debbie Murtaugh.
“I said I just need a chance, but if you hire me, I’ll be the best receptionist you ever had. I really want this job,” Daisy said, her green eyes piercing Debbie’s baby blues.
“Can you start tomorrow?” asked Debbie.
Daisy couldn’t believe the words she had just heard. Can I start tomorrow? Is she nuts, does she have to ask? Of course I can start tomorrow. She could start right now if Ms. Murtaugh needed her to.
“Yes, ma’am, I sure could. I could start right now, if you want me to,” said Daisy jokingly.
“No, I have lunch right now, but tomorrow will be fine. Be here at 8:30 A.M. and be ready,” said Debbie Murtaugh, eyeing the young black girl as she slipped into a pair of tan leather Manolo Blahniks under her desk and stood up to lead Daisy to the door.
“Thank you so much, thank you, really. I’ll see you tomorrow… eight-thirty… sharp.”
“Yes, thank you, see you tomorrow,” said Debbie, extending a soft and gentle hand. She took Daisy’s hand into hers and looked at Daisy as she closed her office door. She walked over to her maple desk, picked up a note pad and crossed off one of the several tasks on her “to do” list. Now, the offices have a receptionist, the partners can stop complaining, and I have lunch with Chuck.
Daisy Mae was so happy she didn’t know who she would tell her simply marvelous news to first, but she couldn’t wait to tell somebody. She just wanted to scream out to the world how great she felt. Can you believe it? Can you actually believe it? I got a real job. Wait till I tell Aunt Tildie and Kimmie Sue this.
She was more confident than ever that Tennessee was the place for her. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a vision, a plan, a path for her life. Somewhere out there was her destiny, she just had to take care of herself long enough to find it. Sometimes, Daisy would go out to Beaver Dam Pond down the road from where her aunt Tildie lived and look out at the water, thinking of the past and all the demons she had escaped. At the right time of the day, the pond would glisten like a shadow of gold as the sun quietly nestled itself between the vast forest of trees, its rays of light shining from above, just a blink away from sundown. And Daisy would sit on the same large rock where she always sat, looking out at the calm, tranquil pond, and she’d talk to God. It was her way of asking God to forgive her for all she had done, all she had been a part of, and all she wished she could change. And it was there she drew strength. It was there, in what some would call “the middle of nowhere,” that Daisy found the most majestic spot on earth, and it was there that she found faith and knew that God was beside her. I won’t never do nothing against you, father God. Please just let me have a good life, enriched and full of happiness, and a life full of love. That was always what she would ask God for, and honestly, she was changed. Daisy would starve on the street before she would sell her body away. No, not her, not no more. She’d never be sacrificed that way ever again, a naked, lost soul on display for men to lust after, pay, have their way with, then walk away from, still a man. She had always felt this was less than she deserved. But it was a combination of things that had Daisy twisted out in the streets of Philadelphia. Her momma had tried to talk to her when she was alive. The last person who wanted to see Daisy stripping and living that kind of life was Abigail. She never judged her baby, just tried to ask her questions and say things to her, so that maybe one day she’d change. Little did Daisy know, the spirit of her mother was right there with her, sitting next to her, like a whisper in the wind.
I got so much to do with myself, so much to do. And she did. She had her new job and was making the commitment to be the best receptionist ever. God knows, stripping ain’t easy. But it was easier than working for crazy white folks all day. Daisy realized that being a simple receptionist wouldn’t be as easy as she had thought it would be. The corporate world was complex, and so were the people in it, especially the white people, and the truth was she hadn’t really captured the art of functioning in both worlds. Now the hood, she had that down to a science, but working in the law firm, that was a whole new ballgame. And somehow, some way, Daisy had managed to get herself on first base. I’ll be okay, I can do this. I can take care of myself now. That’s what she told herself the next morning as she rode into town for her first day at work.
“Good morning, Daisy, let me take you around, show you the offices and everyone here.”
“Good morning, Ms. Murtaugh.”
“Call me Debbie, please. Ms. Murtaugh would be my mother. So, where are you from? Your accent isn’t quite country,” said Debbie, tossing her blond curly hair as she walked Daisy down a hall and pointed at offices, introducing her to the various partners and associates who worked at the firm. No one looked for more than a split second and those on the phone didn’t even do that, just stayed focused on the task at hand as Debbie and Daisy peeked into offices and around doors.
“That’s Victor Hatland, he’s the senior partner of the firm. Lose his calls, lose your job. Always take messages, always get phone numbers, and a good receptionist must know the three threes,” she said as if the fate of the universe depended solely on her ability to take a message.
“What’s the three threes?” asked Daisy, completely and totally clueless.
“The three threes are who, where, and what. Who are you? Where are you calling from? And what is your call regarding?”
“Ohhh,” said Daisy.
“Exactly. Don’t forget it either. And whatever you do, never patch a telemarketer or a sales call through to the partners or their secretaries. All those calls come to me, you understand, so make sure you screen everyone until you’re more familiar. Jack Delany takes all his personal calls personally. Do not send them to his secretary; if he’s not in, voicemail. Got it?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If there’s ever a call and you’re not sure what to do, just take a message. Eventually, you’ll get the knack of it, after you’re more familiar with the partners and everyone here. All the partners have one secretary, and they share paralegals. There’s what we call the ‘team chart’ in your employee hand guide. You need to study that team chart. It will really help you become familiar with names and people.”
“I will, I’ll memorize every name by heart.”
After making a walk-through of the offices, with brief introductions to partners, secretaries, paralegals, and law clerks, they were back at the front desk.
“Just remember you are the intro to the firm. Be professional, sound professional, speak clearly, and be courteous to our clients. Other than that, it’s really a no-brainer.”
Honestly it wasn’t. Daisy just knew she could do the job. However, her first day, she almost flunked out. The phone lines were ringing off the hook. David Sternberger’s secretary had to help Daisy answer the calls.
Debbie’s solution was that each secretary would take an hour out of the day to help cover phones and assist until Daisy got caught up.
If she doesn’t get the hang of it after a week, she’s outta here. There would be no ifs, a
nds, or buts about it. Debbie would never sacrifice her job as office manager for any of the employees she hired for the firm. But, after a week’s time, Daisy did get the hang of things: All calls were answered by the third ring and the calls were promptly handled and precisely directed through the small switchboard, which Daisy had lied and said she was familiar with, but honestly didn’t have a clue about until the other secretaries helped her master it. No, Daisy was doing really well at her new job. She was always on time, getting up a half hour early just so she wouldn’t be late. She always dressed professionally, wearing pumps, skirts, and suit jackets. Her style sense was noted by the other secretaries and paralegals. She even made a friend, Jack Delany’s secretary, Mary Martin. She was a white girl with blue eyes and long blond hair, but she had grown up in a predominantly black neighborhood.
“Oh, we got a litte bit of this and a little bit of that in my neighborhood, we just all live together like one big happy family,” she said, looking like Dolly Parton, just not as heavy up top, but then again, no one is that heavy up top. But it was her smile that invited you in. Friendly, pretty, and just happy, with the biggest smile, outlined by red Cover Girl lipstick and shined up with a layer of lip gloss on top. Mary Martin’s smile would light up a room like a Christmas tree.
“Hey, Daisy Mae, you want to come with us? We’re going to Jerry’s Pool Hall a little later on tonight, get a few drinks, mingle with the menfolk, and just have a good ol’ time. Me and some of the girls here always get together on Friday nights and do a little partying. You wanna come along?”
“Aww, wow, thanks, Mary, but Billy’s picking me up after work. He wants to take me home to have dinner with his parents.”
“Well, ain’t that something. Are you excited?”
“Am I? I met them before at the church, but just said hi and bye. Oh, my God, now I have to sit at a table with them. I’ve been sitting here all day just as nervous as nervous can be. Look, look at what I’ve done to my nails, I’m just sitting here biting ’em off. I’m so scared. What if they don’t like me, what if his momma don’t like me?” said Daisy, fearful of the possibilities.
“How is she not, look at you. Stop worrying, it’ll be fine.” Mary Martin bent and gave Daisy Mae a quick hug. “Have fun,” she said, waving bye-bye.
Dizzy opened the wooden door with one hand, holding his towel around his potbellied waist with the other. The heat from the sauna hit him as he stepped inside and closed the door behind him. The lights were off and the room was silent, still. With his towel wrapped around his waist, he sat next to Simon.
“What’s going on, slim?” Simon Shuller joked as they both laughed.
“They found the girl. She’s working in a law firm down in Nashville, Tennessee.”
“Nashville, Tennessee? What the fuck is she doing down there?”
“They say she got family down there. This kid Sticks, he got another body, Lester Giles, the girl’s landlord. He beat the man to death. That’s how we found out where the girl is.”
“Another body?” asked Simon, wiping the sweat from his brow.
“Yeah, looks that way. This kid Sticks, I don’t know.” Dizzy shook his head in silence, thinking of all the possible repercussions. “I think we need to get someone down there to get the girl.”
“Go get the girl, get her back up here so she can testify.” Simon paused for a split second. “Leave him down there, buried somewhere down there. You understand, Dizzy.”
“Say no more.”
“No more said,” said Simon, looking at his friend.
“Shit, it’s hot in here. You better come on before your ass falls out.”
Simon Shuller watched as Dizzy strolled out of the sauna. He closed his eyes and lay down on the wooden bench.
SCAREDY CAT
Fuck, it’s dark as shit out here. Ain’t no lights and shit. Nigga could come up missing out this motherfucker for real and never be found again. You should slow down.”
“Man, ain’t nothing out here. Stop whining. It’s just darkness, that’s all. Ain’tcho never been down South before?” asked Sticks, looking at Rayford Johnson, whom everyone referred to as Ray J, a simple nickname after his own birthright. Sticks didn’t know much about him, except that he was a hustler and he hustled for Simon Shuller across town. He knew of the guy, but Sticks had never associated with him and knew very little about him, his people, and had not a clue where he came from or why he was there. I could have handled this situation myself. Shit, I been handling everything. I don’t know why they sent this clown-ass nigga along for the ride in the first place.
They crossed the Virginia state line, and as at every state line, they passed the welcome sign on the side of the road. “Welcome to Tennessee.”
“You got the map?” asked Sticks.
“Yeah, right here, let me see.” Ray J picked up the map, turning it once in the upside position. “Looks like we stay right here on I-81, to Interstate 40 West, that’s gonna run us right on into I-640 West and straight on into Nashville.”
“All right, all right then, I-40 West, I got her address for you to find too. You can find her address on that map?” Sticks questioned, checking out Ray J’s map skills.
“Yeah, of course, a map can always get you where you going.”
From out of the darkness of the night, a flash of movement darted out in front of Sticks’s car.
“Watch out!” screamed Ray J.
Sticks quickly slammed on the brakes, his lights blinding the fawn frozen still in the middle of the road. Sticks cut his wheel hard to the left. His right front end struck the animal, spinning his car in a 180-degree arc, as he lost control for a mere second, the car running off the road and into a ditch.
“What the fuck was that?” screamed Ray J, completely shook.
“I don’t know, man, I think it was a deer or something,” said Sticks, spinning the right-side tire as he tried to get out of the ditch.
“You gonna dig us in a hole and we ain’t never gonna get outta here. I told you to slow down, you should’ve listened,” said Ray J, looking around at the nothingness of the deserted countryside. The vast land stretched as far as the eye could see, but yet there was only green grass and heavily wooded areas of different types of oak and maples traveling alongside the interstate.
“Come on, let’s get out and take a look,” said Sticks.
Is this nigga crazy? I’m not getting out this car, it’s too damn dark out here. “Hey, just go on back there and see if you can push her and I’ll give it a little gas,” said Ray J, sliding right over to the driver’s seat, ready to put that motherfucker in reverse and run Sticks’s ass over. He lucky I don’t have the girl yet, ’cause that’s just what I’d do too, run his dumb ass over. Now we stuck out here in the middle of bubble fuck nowhere in the god damn dark with his dumb ass crashing into deer and shit. It was scary, pitch black “can’t see nothing but the twinkling of the stars in the sky” dark out there. Tennessee was backwoods at its finest, home of Davy Crockett and the birthplace of country music.
Sticks put his hands on the trunk of the car and began to push as Ray J stepped on the gas pedal, causing the tire to spin and dirt to fly up, hitting Sticks in the face and soiling his clothing.
“Hey, stop, man, you fucking me all up back here!” he huffed at Ray J, who put the car in park.
“What’s the matter?” Ray J hollered out the window.
“Man, you got dirt flying everywhere back here. Wait a minute, the ground is way too soft,” said Sticks, examining the hole the spinning tire had dug itself into. Just then car lights could be seen traveling a half-mile’s distance down the road.
“Look, maybe we can get some help out here.”
“Shit, with our luck fuck around and Jason pull up out this bitch, then what? KKK have us tied up out this motherfucker and won’t nobody ever know and won’t nobody ever find us.”
“Yo, wait till we get back, man. I’m telling everybody yousa big-ass scaredy cat.”
&nb
sp; No you not, you won’t be getting back to tell nobody nothing, thought Ray J.
NAME GAME
Are we still on for next Saturday with your parents?” asked Vivian, already thinking of the perfect tan dress for dinner at Le Bec Fin with Tommy’s mom and dad.
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot, my parents are coming this week!” he exclaimed.
“Um, yeah, how can you forget that? So, I take it we’re still on for dinner at Le Bec, right?” she asked, tossing cut tomatoes into a bowl filled with lettuce, cucumbers, and shaved carrots, while tossing her blond hair away from her face at the same time.
“Yeah, yeah, we’re still on,” mumbled Tommy, his mind now thinking of who he could possibly hire to clean up his apartment. God knows, if his mother took one look at his place in the condition it was in, he’d never hear the end of it. He could hear her now: “Dear God, Tommy, look at how you live. If I didn’t know better I would swear a wild beast lives here and not my son. I didn’t raise you to live like this.” Then his father would add his two cents. “Margaret, please, leave the boy alone, he’s a single man, he’s living just fine.” They would go back and forth and Tommy would never hear the end of it.
“Matty moved back home, you know,” said Tommy as he set two places at the table.
“Are you serious, your parents let him move back in their house? Do you think they should have done that under the circumstances?” she asked, biting a sliced cucumber from out of a tossed salad.
“Probably not, but something tells me I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Is he okay?” said Vivian placing the salad bowl on the table and setting a large spoon next to it.
“You know, I don’t think Matty will ever be okay. But if he can stay clean, who knows,” said Tommy, growing silent thinking of his brother, of the last time he saw him. It was Tommy who picked him up from Castle Rehabilitation after a drug overdose almost took his life seven months ago.