| General Fiction posted July 4, 2020 | Chapters: |
...46 47 -48- 49... 
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I change jobs once again.
A chapter in the book Remembering Yesterday
Home Life and Yet Another Job
by BethShelby
| Background This chapter deals with my three children and life at home and also with another change of jobs for me and what occurs on the new one. |
During the summer months, I bought all kinds of activity books for the children so they could stay up to date with their learning skills. I took them to the library often, and had them choose books they were interested in reading. I rewarded them with prizes, if they read the books or completed a certain amount of pages in the activity books. Because Don and Christi had late December birthdays allowing them to start school younger than most of their classmates, they needed the extra summer work to hopefully boost their learning skills. The church school wouldn’t have allowed them to start school at five.
When school started again, Carol was in fourth grade and the twins were in third. They had the same teacher again since the first four grades were in one room. The teacher was very motivated and full of creative ideas. She used contests and games where the kids could develop their natural talents. Christi and Carol both had good singing voices, and they sang together at times in class talent shows. Since the school was small, the children brought their lunches, but once a week they were provided a hot meal by the parents. The mothers took turns preparing enough food for all of the children. Luckily for me, there were enough mothers who didn’t work, so that I only had to do it a couple of times.
The Church had family socials once a month where the adults and children would gather in the church recreation room for a meal and games. We would all bring salads, sandwiches, and deserts and enjoy getting better acquainted with the church family. On one occasion, the children put on a program for the group. Christi sang solo. Her song was “His Eye Is On the Sparrow.” Unlike Don she didn’t forget the words, but she closed her eyes tightly throughout the whole song. I guess that was her way of avoiding being intimidated by the audience--just pretending they don’t exist.
You and I tried to help the kids with their homework. Christi and Carol didn’t seem to need much help. Christi was an excellent speller and was quick at memorizing. Math came easy for Carol. If they were assigned books to read, sometimes I would read them aloud to the children. All of them seem to be good with any type of art project they were given. Don needed more help with the subjects because he was so hyper. He had a very short attention span and had trouble concentrating. When given spelling words or math problems, he acted as though we were playing a guessing game. He would call out random letters or numbers without trying to think. His hands were always busy taking something apart or throwing a ball in the air and catching it.
I did discover the one thing that Don excelled at doing and that was building models. I started buying model kits for his age group, but he was soon able to build much more more complicated ones. You would think he would have treasured his creations. Instead as soon as an airplane or car was finished, he was ready to pretend it was in a horrible crash, and he would destroy it.
I was concerned about some of the violent things he did to his toys. For instance, I would find his GI Joe or his Western figures hanging by their necks or with darts stuck in them and oozing ketchup blood. When he was younger, I had to put a stop to his torturing insects and worms, but now it was army men and human figures that he was mutilating. I hoped it was only a stage and not something that would require counseling. I was thankful that in time he did outgrow the tendency toward violent behavior.
********
I worked about four months at the Graphic Arts firm doing camera work, and I enjoyed the work, but I missed working for a printing company. Then another printing plant offered a job for a company artist. I went for an interview and was hired. My boss wasn't happy to see me leave, but I didn't feel bad about leaving, since he'd let me go years before without a notice, when his artist wanted her job back. At least, I did give him the courtesy of a two week notice.
At this printing company, the office manager was Doris Burns, a lady I’d worked with years before, when I got my first job as a proofreader, leading to my interest in the printing field. The company was jointly owned by Brad, a member of the state House of Representatives, who was the sales manager and Henry, the plant manager. Both men had interviewed me and offered me the job. When I told them my salary requirements, they said they would agree to the amount I wanted, but there was a problem. The checks went through Doris, the office manager, and her salary wasn’t as much as I was asking. They were afraid she would be upset. They said they would pay me two separate amounts. One I would get along with everyone else, and an additional amount would be mailed through their CPA. The second amount would be set up after thirty days. I agreed that this would work for me.
When I worked with Doris before, I felt she resented me, but this time, I got to know her better, and we became close friends. Henry, the plant manager and part owner, was a heavy drinker and was also a gambler. He always had a few bottles stashed away in various places around the office. I soon learned, that although he was married, he and Judy, the lady in the camera and stripping department, had an extra-marital affair going. I’m not so sure it was serious with Henry, but Judy made no secret of the fact that she was deeply in love with him. Her husband traveled and was seldom home.
After a month with the company, when I didn’t automatically get the extra check I was promised, I mentioned it to Brad, the office manager. He told me to talk to Henry, and he would take care of it. When I told Henry I needed to talk to him, he said we couldn’t talk at work and suggested we meet for lunch.
The lunch meeting was strange. He agreed to talk to the accountant and get the extra check set up, but then he began talking about himself. He told me that he didn’t want to live any more. He shocked me by saying that he was thinking about killing himself. I didn’t quite know how to take this. I was even more shocked when I realized, he was expecting me to go to a motel with him after the meeting. I was quick to tell him that wasn’t happening. I realized that I’d made a mistake going to lunch with him. However, I did start receiving the additional check by mail.
One of the art projects I was assigned to work on involved illustrating a book that was a memory book of art and photographs for a lady who was a professor at a black college. Henry had a safe in the art department, and he locked her hundreds of photographs away for safe keeping. He told me to go to her hotel with her and work with her on what she wanted as illustrations for the book.
Although the teacher was an Afro-American, she had extremely light skin and didn’t wear her hair in an ethnic style. In spite of the law banning it, segregation was still very much alive in Mississippi. I was surprised to find her staying in one of Jackson’s better hotels. She was very dignified and spoke perfect and proper English, so I wasn’t sure the manager at the hotel was aware she was black.
I was especially surprised when she took me to lunch at the hotel restaurant. Even though the civil rights act of 1964 had been passed allowing blacks to eat wherever they chose, it was rare to see blacks and whites eating together. Many places in Mississippi had devised ways of getting around this. They opened private club restaurants where blacks were excluded. Many restaurants had two sets of menus printed where the prices were much steeper for those they hoped would choose not to eat there. I had been shocked when printing companies where I worked printed such menus.
******
One morning a few weeks later, Henry didn't come in to work. Brad, the office manager, wasn’t able to reach him by phone, and he sent someone to his house to check. It was then we learned that Henry had committed suicide by shooting himself. Judy was devastated. A couple of days later, we closed the plant and all attended the funeral. Doris, Judy and I sat together and afterward, Doris and I went to Judy’s apartment to try to console her. We learned that Henry had gotten deeply in debt by gambling, and apparently, he was about to lose everything.
For weeks, everyone in the plant tried to open Henry's safe where the pictures were stored for the project I was working on. We had the combination, but only Henry had ever been able to open it. Doris and I had both tried dozens of times, but to no avail. One morning, Doris came in and told me that she’d had a very vivid dream. She said she had walked from the back of the plant into the art department and I had opened the safe. When Doris went back to get coffee, I decided to try one more time. For no logical reason, the safe door swung open just as Doris walked back through. It wasn’t the first time Doris and I had some kind of psychic connection with dreams. It had happened years before when I first met her, and that time I’d been the one who had the prophetic dream.
When school started again, Carol was in fourth grade and the twins were in third. They had the same teacher again since the first four grades were in one room. The teacher was very motivated and full of creative ideas. She used contests and games where the kids could develop their natural talents. Christi and Carol both had good singing voices, and they sang together at times in class talent shows. Since the school was small, the children brought their lunches, but once a week they were provided a hot meal by the parents. The mothers took turns preparing enough food for all of the children. Luckily for me, there were enough mothers who didn’t work, so that I only had to do it a couple of times.
The Church had family socials once a month where the adults and children would gather in the church recreation room for a meal and games. We would all bring salads, sandwiches, and deserts and enjoy getting better acquainted with the church family. On one occasion, the children put on a program for the group. Christi sang solo. Her song was “His Eye Is On the Sparrow.” Unlike Don she didn’t forget the words, but she closed her eyes tightly throughout the whole song. I guess that was her way of avoiding being intimidated by the audience--just pretending they don’t exist.
You and I tried to help the kids with their homework. Christi and Carol didn’t seem to need much help. Christi was an excellent speller and was quick at memorizing. Math came easy for Carol. If they were assigned books to read, sometimes I would read them aloud to the children. All of them seem to be good with any type of art project they were given. Don needed more help with the subjects because he was so hyper. He had a very short attention span and had trouble concentrating. When given spelling words or math problems, he acted as though we were playing a guessing game. He would call out random letters or numbers without trying to think. His hands were always busy taking something apart or throwing a ball in the air and catching it.
I did discover the one thing that Don excelled at doing and that was building models. I started buying model kits for his age group, but he was soon able to build much more more complicated ones. You would think he would have treasured his creations. Instead as soon as an airplane or car was finished, he was ready to pretend it was in a horrible crash, and he would destroy it.
I was concerned about some of the violent things he did to his toys. For instance, I would find his GI Joe or his Western figures hanging by their necks or with darts stuck in them and oozing ketchup blood. When he was younger, I had to put a stop to his torturing insects and worms, but now it was army men and human figures that he was mutilating. I hoped it was only a stage and not something that would require counseling. I was thankful that in time he did outgrow the tendency toward violent behavior.
********
I worked about four months at the Graphic Arts firm doing camera work, and I enjoyed the work, but I missed working for a printing company. Then another printing plant offered a job for a company artist. I went for an interview and was hired. My boss wasn't happy to see me leave, but I didn't feel bad about leaving, since he'd let me go years before without a notice, when his artist wanted her job back. At least, I did give him the courtesy of a two week notice.
At this printing company, the office manager was Doris Burns, a lady I’d worked with years before, when I got my first job as a proofreader, leading to my interest in the printing field. The company was jointly owned by Brad, a member of the state House of Representatives, who was the sales manager and Henry, the plant manager. Both men had interviewed me and offered me the job. When I told them my salary requirements, they said they would agree to the amount I wanted, but there was a problem. The checks went through Doris, the office manager, and her salary wasn’t as much as I was asking. They were afraid she would be upset. They said they would pay me two separate amounts. One I would get along with everyone else, and an additional amount would be mailed through their CPA. The second amount would be set up after thirty days. I agreed that this would work for me.
When I worked with Doris before, I felt she resented me, but this time, I got to know her better, and we became close friends. Henry, the plant manager and part owner, was a heavy drinker and was also a gambler. He always had a few bottles stashed away in various places around the office. I soon learned, that although he was married, he and Judy, the lady in the camera and stripping department, had an extra-marital affair going. I’m not so sure it was serious with Henry, but Judy made no secret of the fact that she was deeply in love with him. Her husband traveled and was seldom home.
After a month with the company, when I didn’t automatically get the extra check I was promised, I mentioned it to Brad, the office manager. He told me to talk to Henry, and he would take care of it. When I told Henry I needed to talk to him, he said we couldn’t talk at work and suggested we meet for lunch.
The lunch meeting was strange. He agreed to talk to the accountant and get the extra check set up, but then he began talking about himself. He told me that he didn’t want to live any more. He shocked me by saying that he was thinking about killing himself. I didn’t quite know how to take this. I was even more shocked when I realized, he was expecting me to go to a motel with him after the meeting. I was quick to tell him that wasn’t happening. I realized that I’d made a mistake going to lunch with him. However, I did start receiving the additional check by mail.
One of the art projects I was assigned to work on involved illustrating a book that was a memory book of art and photographs for a lady who was a professor at a black college. Henry had a safe in the art department, and he locked her hundreds of photographs away for safe keeping. He told me to go to her hotel with her and work with her on what she wanted as illustrations for the book.
Although the teacher was an Afro-American, she had extremely light skin and didn’t wear her hair in an ethnic style. In spite of the law banning it, segregation was still very much alive in Mississippi. I was surprised to find her staying in one of Jackson’s better hotels. She was very dignified and spoke perfect and proper English, so I wasn’t sure the manager at the hotel was aware she was black.
I was especially surprised when she took me to lunch at the hotel restaurant. Even though the civil rights act of 1964 had been passed allowing blacks to eat wherever they chose, it was rare to see blacks and whites eating together. Many places in Mississippi had devised ways of getting around this. They opened private club restaurants where blacks were excluded. Many restaurants had two sets of menus printed where the prices were much steeper for those they hoped would choose not to eat there. I had been shocked when printing companies where I worked printed such menus.
******
One morning a few weeks later, Henry didn't come in to work. Brad, the office manager, wasn’t able to reach him by phone, and he sent someone to his house to check. It was then we learned that Henry had committed suicide by shooting himself. Judy was devastated. A couple of days later, we closed the plant and all attended the funeral. Doris, Judy and I sat together and afterward, Doris and I went to Judy’s apartment to try to console her. We learned that Henry had gotten deeply in debt by gambling, and apparently, he was about to lose everything.
For weeks, everyone in the plant tried to open Henry's safe where the pictures were stored for the project I was working on. We had the combination, but only Henry had ever been able to open it. Doris and I had both tried dozens of times, but to no avail. One morning, Doris came in and told me that she’d had a very vivid dream. She said she had walked from the back of the plant into the art department and I had opened the safe. When Doris went back to get coffee, I decided to try one more time. For no logical reason, the safe door swung open just as Doris walked back through. It wasn’t the first time Doris and I had some kind of psychic connection with dreams. It had happened years before when I first met her, and that time I’d been the one who had the prophetic dream.
 Recognized |
I'm continuing to recall memories of life with my deceased husband as if I am talking aloud to him. I'm doing this because I want my children to know us as we knew each other and not just as their parents
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