Then I looked more closely at the numbers in front of me, and I began to hum.
As Kaya and King argued and the mayor tried to bring order to the meeting, I let the octopus out, let it curl its tentacles around the edges of my mind. The numbers are wrong, it kept telling me, and I knew it was right. I didn’t know how yet, and if people would stop yelling, I could find it, but I knew they wouldn’t stop yelling. I needed my sensory sack, my own space, but I couldn’t have it, not right now.
Jeremey came up beside me, not touching me but sitting on the other side of me, coming close enough to block out some of the bad feelings from the front of the room. Soon David closed in on the other side, pushing a chair away to roll his into place.
“You found something, didn’t you?” David didn’t whisper, but he kept his voice low.
I nodded, still rocking. “It’s too loud in here.”
Jeremey touched my leg briefly. “Do you want to leave?”
I shook my head. “We can’t. If we leave, he wins. I need to find his bad math while we’re here in the room. Before the meeting ends. But I can’t get my brain octopus to behave.”
Darren appeared in front of me, blocking out the last line of sight of the meeting. He signed to me. Let us be your sensory sack. We’re your Blues Brothers shield. Tell your octopus it’s safe with us. See if that helps, and try again.
I wasn’t sure this plan would work, but it was worth a try. I shut my eyes and let the octopus out, told it what Darren had said. I could still feel Darren and David and Jeremey around me, and I let the octopus feel them too. We’re safe with them. Let me be calm here so I can work out this problem and save The Roosevelt, please.
I waited to see what the octopus would do.
It didn’t move right away, but it did move. It didn’t believe that The Roosevelt Blues Brothers were the same as a sensory sack. But the octopus liked the Blues Brothers, and it did trust them, and after a minute or so, I felt it calm down.
You can work now, it told me.
Letting out a breath, I checked the numbers once more.
With my octopus off my brain, I found what was bothering me in ten minutes. The discrepancy wasn’t a mistake, not technically, but the information King had given wasn’t accurate, and it was enough that I knew it wasn’t right to present things the way he was. I started to explain it to David, but I didn’t get far before he stopped me, had Jeremey get the microphone from the mayor, and then I was at the podium again, no more Roosevelt Blues Brothers buffer, rocking my octopus as I tried to explain what I had seen.
“The appendices Mr. King uses are quite thorough, and his math is technically accurate. However, I disagree with the way he figures his calculations. As you can see on page twenty-five, paragraph three, he uses a low estimate at a critical place, an estimate so low it is almost an error. This is acceptable as a hypothetical option for the projection of one outcome for the project, but to offer this as a singular vision is narrow-minded and a departure from reason. To use this low figure in this formula at this juncture affects all the other totals and implies the project is never viable, which is not the case if you use a median estimate. But this isn’t the only place where they use a low estimate, either. Throughout their program it’s clear they use low estimates whenever possible, thereby skewing their results.”
King laughed, but the sound was loud and sharp and made me jump. “I assure you, there’s nothing wrong with our projections. It’s natural for you to be upset, young man, when the facts prove you can’t get what you want, but this doesn’t give you the right to stand up here and invent fictions. You couldn’t possibly look at those complicated reports and understand anything to the degree you’re talking about.”
“There are a number of things wrong with your projections. I have my laptop with me and can show you, though it will take me about a half an hour to write the program, and I’m not sure the council wants to keep the meeting going while I do that, so I might have to bring the program to you after. And I can read complicated reports and understand them. It took me longer than normal because it’s so loud in here, but I was able to see how the calculations were put together. It’s only math. Math isn’t complicated. It’s only numbers and calculations. I love math. I’m exceptional at it. I’m good at assessing data too. It’s my job at Workiva. It’s what I do all day long.” I stared at the folder, because I didn’t want to look at King or the council anymore, not even with my camera eyes. “As I said, it would be one thing if this were one projection beside a more median-based formula. The best arrangement would be three lines, a conservative line such as this one, a median line representing an average, and a positive line representing an ideal. This is in fact a very good formula. I’ve memorized it now and could use it produce the median and positive lines for you by this evening, though I would rather give it to you tomorrow so I could spend tonight in my sensory sack and with my boyfriend. It’s been a long day.”
King laughed. “You memorized the algorithm we used to make those calculations? By reading it? Be serious. You’re taking the game too far.”
Out of the corner of my eye, Darren signed, Tell it to them. Show them your brain. Tell them the formula.
I thought his request was strange, because they wouldn’t understand the formula at all, and I couldn’t possibly show them my brain, that would be disgusting, but Darren is smarter about these kinds of things than me, so I told them the formula King Enterprises uses, reciting it out loud until Kaya stopped me, explained most people didn’t know what those symbols meant, and would I please use the marker board, so I did. I didn’t care for the way people were looking at me, because they had strange expressions on their faces, but once I was at the marker board it was easier. My octopus got nervous, but I reminded it The Roosevelt Blues Brothers were with me, and it didn’t go crazy.
When I finished, I felt as if I’d run for miles. I was tired and my arms felt heavy. I wanted to go home. I wanted my sensory sack. I wanted to sit on my couch with Jeremey and Mai and listen to trains. I didn’t want to ever go to a city council meeting again. But it seemed it had been a good thing to do, though it exhausted me.
The mayor was staring at me, but I could tell the expression on her face meant impressed. “I believe the council has some investigating to do on this matter before we make any decisions. But, Mr. Washington, yes, I’d be interested in seeing those median and positive lines, whenever you have the leisure to produce them.”
I couldn’t speak. I was so tired. I found Jeremey’s hand and squeezed it hard.
Jeremey squeezed back, and he spoke to the mayor for me. “We’ll get them to you as soon as we can. Thank you.”
I looked at Kaya, who was smiling at me like nobody had ever smiled at me before. But I also looked at RJ King, who wasn’t smiling at all.
I had won this battle, I knew. But I had also made myself an enemy, and I had a feeling the next time I met him I would need more than math to take him down.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jeremey
Living with Mai was a whole new life for me.
We still worked on training all the time, but from the first day we were together, she changed everything. It sounds so strange, but the simplest, most important thing was I was never alone anymore. I hadn’t thought about how much peace of mind she would give me until she was a part of my daily routine, and in fact it wasn’t until the trainer came to visit me for the two-week checkup that I realized how much was different with her around.
So much of having a service dog was mindset. I was braver, even without her fully trained. I could face stores on busy days and navigate congested downtown festivals full of well-meaning people who overwhelmed me. Most of the time Mai didn’t have to do anything at all. Simply being present was enough for both me and the other people around us. She made other people aware something was going on, alerted them they should behave differently around us, which was what I’d wanted all along.
Sometimes, though, people ignored her
service dog vest and decided they should come over and introduce themselves to her, which always got awkward. Kids were pretty easy because Mai didn’t hesitate to knock them over if they stayed too close during the around command, and whatever parent or guardian was with them ushered them quickly away. Adults who wanted to approach Mai while she was working, however, were a more complicated problem. They never took her hints when she blocked them or used around to make space for me. Adults usually began to scold me if I failed to engage with them or didn’t let them engage with her, at which point I would have an anxiety attack and Mai would have to remove me from the scene.
Things were different, however, in April when the four of us went to the art festival and a rude person approached Mai, and the others were with me.
It was a street festival, most of Main Street closed off so we could wander between the booths, with a few food trucks at each end. A couple of the restaurants had tables stationed here and there as well, the fancy Thai restaurant and the co-op, as well as two of the downtown pizza places. What I wanted was hot chocolate from the Café Diem stand, so the four of us were trying to weave our way through the crush of people.
David led us because he was convinced people got out of the way for wheelchairs once they noticed him, and he always made sure they noticed him when he wanted to get through. It was working, mostly, but the crowd was thick and full of people making too much noise. I was starting to change my mind about the hot chocolate. I couldn’t imagine it’d be worth all this trouble. Except I was chilly, and I wanted something sweet and warm to hold on to while we walked around.
Mai noticed I was uncomfortable and moved closer to me, whining and pawing my leg in a manner meaning I was to pet her head and release some of my stress, to remind myself she was with me and I didn’t have to face the crowd alone. I did as she asked, and the gesture worked as it was supposed to. Except a middle-aged woman with frizzy gray hair bent over with a big smile, leaning in too close as she came in to pet Mai.
“Oh, she’s a sweetheart. Is she a purebred retriever?”
The calm Mai’s command had brought me vanished, and panic rushed in as I realized how this encounter was going to go, especially when I ignored the woman and gave Mai the around command. The woman looked both astonished and affronted, puffing up for a lecture.
Before she could so much as open her mouth to start, though, Emmet appeared. “Mai is a service dog. She’s wearing a vest that says service dog and do not pet on it.”
The woman became more flustered than ever, tipping her chin up. “Well, I didn’t see it. He could have said so and not had the dog push me away.”
David had stopped plowing through the people and turned his chair around, wheeling up beside Emmet, Darren flanking him. “Mai is a certified service animal, and Jeremey has social anxiety. Your interrupting and not paying attention to his dog is putting him at risk of having to give up this event and go home. He still might have to, all because you thought you needed to pet his dog. I know what you’re going to say. You didn’t mean any harm. Well, here’s the thing. You don’t have to mean any harm to still cause it. So the next time you see a dog you want to pet, check for a vest, and ask for permission. If you don’t get it, don’t take it.” He spun his wheels sharply in a move he liked to do when he wanted to appear aggressive, placing his chair a foot or so closer to her. “Now, if we could go back to enjoying our day, that’d be great. Thanks.”
The woman sputtered as she hurried away. I watched her go, not sure if I was going to be leaving too, or what. Mostly I was stunned. What had just happened?
My gaze slid to the others, who were all watching me. Well, David was looking at me, but Darren and Emmet had their gazes fixed on things near enough to me I knew they had me in their camera vision. As I looked at Darren, though, his eyes flicked briefly to me, and he grinned widely as he held up his iPad.
“The Roosevelt Blues Brothers to the rescue,” the robotic voice said.
I couldn’t help a smile, though I still felt rattled. Mai nuzzled my leg, and I crouched to rub her head. This time she nuzzled my face and neck, giving me doggy kisses, and I shut my eyes and let her give them to me. This was one of the things we had begun to train Mai for specifically for me: to give me touch. I would never have thought to have a dog touch me, and it was odd at first, almost wrong, because all I could think of was I was substituting Emmet’s distaste for too much touch with a dog’s touch, and that didn’t seem right at all.
But there was something different about the way Mai nuzzled me, something different than the way anyone else touched me. Her love was so unconditional. She was a service dog, yes, so she was working, but she was so sweet. I felt like she truly loved being with me, that we had bonded and she wanted to be my dog. I certainly wanted to be her owner. I loved taking care of her, loved getting her food and putting out her water and keeping her area clean. Taking her on walks never bothered me, not even if the weather was unpleasant. And I noticed simply taking care of her helped keep my depression at bay.
Mai was a Roosevelt Blues Brother too.
I ended up not having to go home. In fact, I didn’t have an anxiety attack at all. I did need to wait with Emmet in a quiet place while Darren and David got our drinks, but this wasn’t bad either, because I got to sit with Emmet and enjoy the nice afternoon.
“Have you seen any art you want to buy?” I hadn’t had time to look around, but I knew he’d have been checking out things with his camera vision.
“There are some pieces I want to investigate more closely before we leave. They might be nice in my office at work.” He touched my leg, a firm pressure, briefly. “Are you feeling better now?”
I nodded and returned his touch with the same kind of pressure. “Yes. Thank you for helping me with the woman. I didn’t know what to say to her.”
“There’s not much for you to say on your own. This is where we’re a good fit, the two of us. I’m blunt and it gets rid of people.”
My heart swelled with love for him. “Can I lean on your shoulder?”
“Yes.”
I put my head carefully against him, knowing how firmly I could press so it wouldn’t be too soft or too hard. I enjoyed knowing I was the only person who could navigate his personal space like that. “Did you give the city council those formulas, or whatever you call them?”
“The projections? Yes. I gave them to Kaya, but we went to City Hall together, and the mayor took us to lunch. I think she was angry with RJ King for trying to deceive her. Kaya says we’ll probably get the funding.”
“Oh, good! Now all we have to do is repeat the same steps at the state level.”
“I’ve been thinking, and I have a bad feeling about it. I think RJ King didn’t like how I beat him by finding his math formula. I don’t think we’ll be able to find his next trick so easily.”
“And you think there’ll be a trick for sure?”
“Yes. He doesn’t want there to be a Roosevelt at all. Not our building and not a Project. If we succeed, Kaya says, we’re a threat to him, because he’s one of the biggest investors of the companies the law would give the funding too. But it’s going to be difficult to beat him at the statehouse. He’s friends with a lot of the legislators and the governor too. He calls the governor buddy and the governor smiles at him and pats him on the back. I found a video of it on YouTube.”
I didn’t fully understand what Emmet was talking about, but I could tell it was serious. “We need to have a meeting with Kaya.”
“Yes. But I think maybe we need to have a Roosevelt Blues Brothers meeting first.” He rocked on the bench, his gaze darting to the place where we had argued with the woman who wanted to pet Mai. “I think we need to have a lot of plans if we want to win against King. More than a computer formula.”
Darren and David appeared around the corner, David talking animatedly to a silent Darren as he balanced a tray full of hot drinks, and casually flirted with women who stared too long at his chair. I stroked Mai’s head
and smiled at them, my heart filling with warmth. “I have a feeling we can make as many plans as you need.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Emmet
We need a new video.
This is what Darren said when we sat down to make our first draft of ideas for plans. David had to go to physical therapy, and Jeremey and Mai went with him, so Darren and I sat at my kitchen table in our apartment to come up with some initial ideas.
I rocked in my chair and hummed as I considered his suggestion. I enjoyed doing viral videos, but I couldn’t see how doing one would help us convince state legislators to give us funding for our project, so I told him this. Darren had his keyboard with him, hooked up to his iPad, and he typed as furiously as his fingers would let him so his computer could speak for him.
“You need to get the people on our side because the people are the ones who control the legislators. King will control the legislators with money and other kinds of influence we don’t have. The only control we can afford is that of the people. So let’s control them. If we make a viral video that sells our idea and introduces us to everyone in the state or maybe people outside of Iowa, then we win public opinion. When King tries to get people to vote against us, King and his legislators look bad.”
While I understood the concept behind his reasoning, I felt it was based on nebulous reasoning. “We can’t be assured people will contact their legislators simply because they enjoyed our video.”
He signed this time. No, but it’s a start. It certainly can’t hurt.
He had a point. I hummed some more while I considered. “Okay, but I think we need a two-pronged approach then. We have the viral video and we try to do something else at the same time, something more practical. I think we should identify key representatives and make our case to them one by one.”
Sounds good.
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