Bette wasn't surprised in the least when she was led to the staff bathroom to find all the supplies kept there were in complete disarray. Mop heads hardly resembling anything other than frayed threads of muddy yarn were scattered all over. Jugs of cleaners in different colors jumbled together. One roll of paper towels and a single pack of toilet paper. Not nearly what a building topping around 20 people on average needed. The vacuum looked as if it had never been cleaned out. There were two brooms that looked surprisingly in a near-brand-new shape. It felt odd standing with Kerrie in a room full of cleaning supplies on one side and a toilet behind them. A small vanity holding a sink and a bar of soap was by it.Bar soap? I'm bringing some from home. I wonder if Kerrie would mind something pretty-smelling.
Kerrie handed the little keys to the tall brown cabinet to Bette, "We keep the chemicals locked up."
"And the supplies are from Elaine?" Bette asked, moving closer to Kerrie to get a view of everything in the cramped bathroom. The scent of something fresh but musky met her nose as she brushed against Kerrie's arm. She ignored the surge of warmth that spread over her from the tiny bit of contact.
"Yes, she does all the ordering and keeps all food and supplies locked up in those sheds in the back of the parking lot. You can tell her what you need."
"And what is it that I need?"
"I'll show you the list of chores. There's not actually a chemical list, so you just have to think about how something is cleaned and make sure you have that. Like glass cleaner because we need the windows cleaned. That sort of thing."
Bette was led to a bulletin board in the main hall with snippets of paper and posters on it. It was fully covered; in some spots it was layered in stacks. Push pins were everywhere. Cluttered to the max. In the center was a handwritten list that had been photocopied so many times it was almost illegible. Kerrie pointed to it. "Here's the list. We take care of The Church, Sparrow, and the administration building. I know it sounds like a lot, but at times, we have up to 24 people. We also have the option of sending someone to the kitchen if we have a guy who's a good fit. Those people don't do chores anywhere else because they help with all three meals."
Frowning, Bette pulled the chore list down. "Why do they do chores? It feels like free labor."
"Yeah, I know. It seems odd to the outside world, probably, but the system is set up to allow the clients to get back into the routine of everyday life. A lot of them have been locked in cells; others have been on the streets or coked out in a basement. Others held jobs but don't remember what life was like before coming home to addiction. They're feeling new things. The chemicals in their brains are going haywire. When your system is accustomed to being high or depressively low, then it needs to relearn what normal feels like. It's like a boat bobbing in the water. It bobs up and down, but once settled, it's even. The line we want them to get to is the settled, even line where normal dopamine levels hang out. Right now, their systems are jerking up and down erratically. Giving them a schedule and tasks to focus on helps them settle back into the normal line. Not to mention, it gives them something to do that isn't sitting and dwelling on things they can't change while in here."
Bette nodded slowly. The amount of information she had yet to learn seemed never-ending. "That makes sense. How do you choose who does what?"
"Well, here at The Church, it's just going down the list. Most of our guys don't have any major physical health issues. At the house, it's divided into upper and lower chores. Keep a copy of our caseloads so you know who is staying where. We don't want people that are not living in the area to be messing around in others’ spaces. The admin building needs to be guys that have their heads on straighter than the others. If someone is new and still having DTs—"
"DTs?"
"Withdrawal symptoms. They won't be as organized and put together as a guy on his last week."
"How do I know things like that?"
"You'll get the hang of it. Talk to the upper and lower advisers. Don't be afraid to get to know the guys. I know walking into a room full of men can be uncomfortable, but I promise you'll meet some awesome guys if you give them a chance. There's always going to be someone who can be an ass, but it's not the norm. If anyone gives you a problem, let me or Wilson know. Don't be surprised if they hold each other accountable if someone is rude or nasty to you. They form a tight bond here. They'll share stories and emotions with each other that no one else in the world will ever hear. Rehab is a unique place if you let yourself be present and open."
Bette nodded slowly as she glanced back at the paper and then over the bulletin board again. Underneath was a small bookshelf. There was an electric pencil sharpener with an inch of dust on top and a large coffee can filled with colored pencils and markers. She pointed to the can. "Is this for the clients?"
"Yeah, I print out—shit, I forgot to print out more coloring pages. I try to keep that tray filled with them. I print free ones off the internet. A lot of guys like to stay busy or color pictures for their loved ones. I know it may seem childish, but it's actually therapeutic."
"Why don't I do that for you? I'll print them. It'll be one less thing you have to do."
Kerrie opened her mouth and then closed it. She seemed to be conflicted. After a moment, she nodded slowly. "Yeah, yeah, that works. They like different kinds of stuff. Just print a variety of things. Sometimes, a guy may ask for something specific. It's up to you if you want to do that. I normally do if I have time."
"Great, I'll do that, along with the chore list, while you work. How about we meet up after lunch so you can look over the chores?"
"Okay, that sounds good."
It took a while for Bette to get her bearings in her new office and familiarize herself with the computer. Her computer was not as old as Kerrie's, but it still wasn't the highly efficient and up-to-date electronics she was used to using at the law firm. Shelly always insisted on having the newest and latest things. That was Shelly through and through. Never satisfied for long. The shiny image she put on display was more important than real life behind closed doors. Bette and Zoe were more like ornaments instead of her closest loved ones. Just a hair above the house and luxury clothing.
As she tried to decipher the handwritten mess on the old chore chart, she let out a frustrated sigh, closing her eyes while pinching the bridge of her nose. The beginning of a tension headache was forming in her head.
"Everything okay?"
Bette jumped, quickly turning to see the voice's owner. Luke was standing in her office's doorway, smiling softly. She shrugged. "This chore list is a mess, and half of it I can't even read."
Chuckling, he nodded. "That's Ms. K's handwriting. It's awful. What are you struggling with besides the handwriting?"
"Well, I'm told to do the Sparrow house chores, but those aren't listed anywhere on this."
"Those are hanging inside Sparrow. Have you been in it before?"
Bette shook her head, feeling a little weird about the idea of being in the clients’ residential home.
"Well, come on. I'll give you the tour. You'll need to do house checks occasionally to make sure things are actually getting done anyway."
