A multi-act play

The setting:

The SS Titanic, an organization in which Smiddy and Thora are the only onsite full-time staff, floundering to navigate the troublesome seas of non-profit service, dodging ice bergs while being pelted by ice cubes, somewhere in the middle of nowhere

The characters:

Thora--"the girl"--narrator of this particular drama; helpmeet to Smiddy; mommy and teacher to Chaos, Mayhem and Frenzy; office manager, home manager, etc.
Smiddy--a man with much responsibility but little authority, trying to do it all with little in the way of resources
Heiress--"the big boss" in charge of it all; supplier of finances; divides her time between her home state and our humble town
Archie--the repair guy (R.G. sounds like Archie--you get it?)
Cranky Cook, or CC--the once cook's helper turned head cook due to the accidental injury of Peace, who is Archie's husband
Jay and Elle--hourly housekeeping and food service help, relatively new to the organization

Scene I

The SS Titanic plays host to a group of quilters, lovely ladies who converge here thrice annually.  (It's fun to use the word thrice in a sentence, isn't it?)  They are easy guests.  They have been good sports though the air conditioner refuses to work, apparently has not been working for two weeks.  During breakfast one guest approaches Smiddy, asking if some of the numerous salt shakers could be replaced with pepper shakers.  While searching out appropriate condiments, Smiddy notices that the coffee pots are empty and refills them, only to be approached by another guest who wonders if perhaps she might have some sugar, as there is none on the tables.  Smiddy happens by Elle.

Smiddy:  I noticed we have no sugar in the holders on the table.  I know you're in training; you will want to watch in the future that those holders don't run empty.

CC, emerging from the kitchen:  It isn't your place to talk to the staff about these things!  

Scene II

It is midweek.  Smiddy has tried to call the Heiress to talk through a few odd bits of trouble during the weekend:  the conditional air conditioner, the conversation with CC.  Although the Heiress admits that she kept Archie working on other pursuits instead of the air conditioner, she does not feel that it is out of place for workers to loudly bang on pipes in the middle of the night even if guests are disturbed.  The air conditioner still is not repaired, and another group will be arriving the next day for a 24-hour retreat.  The Heiress promises that Archie will have the air conditioner working in time.

Scene III

Guests are arriving for the 24-Hour retreat, and the air conditioner still does not work.  As Thora shows guests to their rooms, she notices dirt on the floor of the lobby.  Some rooms are missing room keys, and there seems to be a gas leak in the guest house.  Instead of playing mommy and teacher, she runs from place to place, trying to ensure that all facilities meet guest-readiness standards.  She is disappointed.  Thora calls CC to ask if Jay can check on the guest house, if CC knows where extra keys might be, and tells CC that she will sweep the lobby.  CC comments that so much dirt blows in to these old buildings.

Thora finally makes it back to the lobby and sweeps.  She discovers Christmas tree needles and a couple of screws...not exactly the sort of rubbish that "just blows in".  A quick text to the Heiress asks how we might improve on these matters, but goes unanswered.  There is no time to call.

Guests inform Thora that workers have been banging about in the basement again, working on the air conditioner.  Gladly, they are leaving shortly for an activity so will not be bothered further by the noise.

Despite annoyances and tension among the staff, the guests leave happy and promising to return.

Scene IV

Saturday has arrived.  A guest group is due in this evening, but the Beserker family has planned to attend a social function for the afternoon.  As Thora prepares dinner, Archie calls to tell her that the air conditioner is still not repaired and suggests that the group meet in another facility.  Thora agrees, and Archie says he will call CC to tell him.  The Beserkers head out for their afternoon activity.

Scene V

The Beserkers return, tired and sweaty.  Smiddy and Thora head over to ensure that the facility is prepared for the imminent arrival of guests.  They find CC, Jay and Elle sitting and chatting (as they are usually found).

CC:  I didn't receive a phone call from you, Thora, telling me we had changed facilities.

Thora:  Did you hear from Archie?  He said he would call.

CC:  He did, but you didn't.  

Thora:  CC, I didn't call because Archie did.  We were trying not to pester you.  I texted about turning on the ice machine and air conditioner in this building.  Did you get that?

CC:  I never got a text from you.

By now the characters have arrived in the kitchen, and CC begins to stir a pot.

CC:  You can leave.  I don't need your help.  You can just leave now.  Smiddy and Thora, I don't like you, and I wish you would leave.  You make my blood pressure get too high, and I don't need you here!  I'll be turning my resignation in to the Heiress on Monday.  Oh, and you can set up the tables for Sunday's banquet--I wouldn't want to get anything wrong.

Smiddy and Thora do their best not to react and excuse themselves from the kitchen.  Smiddy calls the Heiress to let her know that a situation is brewing.

Later, Jay and Elle tell Smiddy, who ran commercial kitchens for eight years in two states, that he knows nothing about cooking for groups, that it is unreasonable to expect facilities to be clean all of the time, and that Smiddy and Thora should overlook all oversights on the part of the food service and housekeeping crew.

Scene VI

Sunday has arrived, and with it a large banquet.  THe air conditioner still does not seem to be working.  Tables for the banquet are set up--incorrectly.  Smiddy and Thora leave them as is, and Smiddy calls Archie for an update on the air conditioner.  CC texts to inform Smiddy that Smiddy should cut the ham for the banquet, as CC isn't sure he can do it correctly.  As Smiddy works on the meat, Archie slams into the kitchen.

Archie:  Smiddy, did you see the override box?  (Thora is lost, has no idea what the men are talking about.)

Smiddy:  No...

Archie:  Did you not see the override for the air conditioner? 

Archie slams away, then bursts back into the room:  I'll be resigning on Monday.

The banquet goes well, especially after the air conditioner sputters to some semblance of life.  No one is quite cool enough, but no one melts, either.  Smiddy and Thora pray for wisdom and guidance, and walk on figurative tip toes for the remainder of the night.

Scene VII

Monday comes, and no one resigns.  Thora's conviction that the threats of resignation were orchestrated seems to prove true.  Smiddy and Thora attempt to talk to CC, but he refuses to meet.  A strange silence settles over the SS Titanic.  Smiddy and Thora wait to see if the next ice cube will prove to be the burg that sinks them all.

Frenzy, from back seat:  "There's a bug car!"
Thora, driving:  "Yep!  That's an old one."
Frenzy, awed:  "Like from the 1893's?"

Frenzy:  Mama, you forgot to do your April Fool's joke!
Thora:  I didn't play an April Fool's joke.
Frenzy:  I know!  That's why I've got to pinch you.
Thora:  I think you have your holidays mixed up.  I wore green on Saint Patrick's Day.  I think I'm covered.
Frenzy:  It's okay.  I won't pinch you hard.

Frenzy:  Mama, Miss Holly is my favorite friend of yours to have coffee with.

* I guess I'm glad she approves of my coffee choice.  Wonder if she realizes that she's the one tagging along to our semi-weekly coffee date. * 

My momma's birthday was early in May, and every once in a while, it fell on Mother's Day weekend.  The year I was eight was one of those years.

Eight years old is old enough to make a cake mix, if you're used to fending for yourself and making your own Mac'n'cheese most nights anyway.  Eight years old is probably not quite old enough to clean up the mess, get all of the egg shells out of the batter, and not drip when you're pouring.  

I even scrounged up candles, saving nickels and pennies and dimes from the laundry and the lone quarter my momma missed on her regular hunt under the sofa cushions.  I didn't know how many candles to get, but there were a dozen in a package, and I bought two.  Twenty-four seemed like it would be a nice age to be.  

Matches were easier to find, since there were always half-used booklets lying around, fallen behind the coffee table and hidden under romance novels.  I collected three booklets, just in case, and then I waited.  

I knew better than to expect Momma anytime before midnight, but I thought she'd be home soon after, since the bars closed then.  My plan was to light the candles when I heard her car door slam, and then sing "Happy Birthday" as she walked into the house.  I must have fallen asleep sometime after nine o'clock (my normal bedtime), because everything seemed out of focus when my momma and a man staggered through the door.  I couldn't make my eyes understand if the hands on the clock were showing almost ten or just after two.  Either way, I didn't have time to decide or fumble for my precious matches before Momma was shouting.

"What is this mess?  You were supposed to clean the house up and get to your room, not hang out here spyin' on me!  And what're you doing with matches?  Give 'em 'ere!"  Her breath reeked of alcohol and marijuana, and the man with her looked at me with such disgust that I wanted to apologize for being in my own house.  I turned to go to my room, but my momma grabbed my shoulder and spun me around.  "You get this mess in here cleaned up, then find another place to sleep tonight!" she railed.  

It was another hour before the kitchen was clean.  My momma and the man had long stumbled down the hall to her room, and the cake still sat on the counter, candles unlit.  It was then that I made a decision.  From my room I grabbed a nightie and a favorite stuffed animal, the book I'd been reading.  Everything fit in my backpack.  On the porch I found a flashlight--something of little enough value that Momma hadn't pawned it yet.  With the other hand I carried that cake.  And when I arrived at Mrs. Greene's house, cake in one hand, tears running down my cheeks, she did exactly what I needed her to.

She thanked me for the cake, exclaimed over the frosting, helped me into my jammies, and tucked me in next to Jessa.  From that night on, when I made mother's day cards in school, I gave them to Mrs. Greene.

Another piece of the "Bucket Full O' Dreams" story.