The everyday triumph (revised)

 

The everyday triumph

Ari lazily stretched his arms out wide, narrowly avoiding hitting his knuckles on the oversized headboard of his queen size bed. It was not quite dawn yet, but Ari was happy to be awake. He always enjoyed watching the sun come up as he sipped a cup of coffee on the balcony of his third story apartment. Sometimes at sunrise he would take a walk, welcoming both his neighbors and the new day. Today, however, he was on a deadline. Without any sense of urgency however, Ari carefully gathered together copy of the newspaper article he was editing and began the task at hand.

 

A while later, in an apartment across town, June groggily awoke from her medication-induced slumber. “What day is it?” she thought to herself, wearily hoping to remember that it was a weekend. To her dismay, it was Tuesday, another workday in the endless cycle of drudgery. It took all her effort to will her body out of bed.

Erratically June stumbled downstairs to the kitchen and poured herself a large glass of water. She sighed deeply as she took the daily prescription box off the counter. Staring intently at the cocktail of medicine, she hesitated before swallowing the lot.

Mindlessly, she opened the blinds on the sliding glass door. For a brief instant, a ray of light entered her slowed, scattered conscious. It was already 8:30 and the sun was streaming in the window. Wistfully she glanced at the calendar, wanting desperately for something to be written there. As usual it was blank. All she ever had, it seemed, was her dead-end job at the local grocery store. “Guess it’s time to get dressed”, she mumbled to herself.

Still stumbling, this time from the medication, rather than tiredness, June managed to get upstairs. On the way to the shower, she looked longingly at the disheveled bed that seemed so inviting. There had been many days when she refused to resist the call of the still warm blankets and was forced to call in to her job with a meek excuse for missing work. Contemplating the feel of the warm blankets versus the stern scolding her boss would impart if she missed another day of work, June resigned to getting into the shower.

The cold initial blast of water jolted June into remembering—remembering her time at the hospital—the psychiatric ward. At the hospital the water never got warm. Patients were forced to acquiesce to the cold showers, or risk a note in their files, mentioning a lack of self-care that would reflect poorly on their chance of release from the institution.

June had spent 29 long days in the psychiatric institution. The average inpatient stay is between 3 and 10 days. Over the last three weeks since she had been released, she had managed to find a job and with her parent’s help had secured an apartment nearby both her parent’s house and her work. Even though her job was at risk, due to the amount of work she had missed, these were no small triumphs. Even still, June longed for more. She wanted things to go back to “normal”, to be the same as before the hospital stay, before she was given the label, bipolar.

 

Meanwhile, in that other apartment, across town, Ari heard the riii-ng, ding, ding, ding-da-ding chime of the worn, but reliable used cell phone on his desk. “Hi Mom,” he answered, picking up the phone with a small, slight smile curving up the sides of both cheeks. He gently dropped the newspaper article he was editing onto the desk, preparing for a leisurely chat with his mother.

Even while on a deadline, Ari made time for people. It didn’t matter whether it was a family member, the Queen of England, an aimless passerby, or the President of the United States. Ari enjoyed listening. While most others would tune out, or feign an excuse to exit the conversation, Ari would watch others’ lips move. He would notice the smallest of facial micro-expressions. He would unconsciously mimic hand gestures and posture, practicing the psychological phenomenon called mirroring. It was as if the feelings and words being relied were his own. As a result, Ari put people at ease. They talked to him endlessly.

Perhaps this was why Ari hardly ever met his editing deadlines. Then again, perhaps it is why he still had a job at the newspaper at all. Though he was good with language, Ari preferred to edit, not to write. He liked to read to others’ words, suggesting—never fixing—the storylines and news articles that came across his desk. The minuscule income Ari acquired from the newspaper was nowhere near enough to sustain even his meager lifestyle. To make ends meet, Ari spent most of his days working as a barista at the coffeeshop down the road from his house. On this particular day, after hanging up the phone with his Mom, he got another phone call. It was his boss at the newspaper wondering where Ari’s latest round of revisions was—after all they had been due over an hour ago. Without so much as a second thought, Ari closed up the document and sent over to his boss. He thoughtfully closed his computer and started to get ready for the short walk over to the coffeehouse.

 

Contemporaneous with the phone call from Ari’s mom, June reflected. Back then—before bipolar—she had been an outsider, but not an outcast. She had friends, she had a life—a purpose? As the cool shower started to heat up, June thought back to one day in college. She and her 3 housemates lived in a new part of the campus housing, a townhouse style living situation with 2 bedrooms upstairs, and a kitchen, dining area and living room on the ground floor. June got along well with her housemates. On the day that she was reminiscing, June had just returned from a jog around campus—jogging—interjected the unendingly negative self-talk that mockingly seemed to be a part of her new normal—I need to start that again, or something, this weight gain is miserable.

Somehow June’s mind returned to the bittersweet college memories—bittersweet due to the carefree life she had so enjoyed back then compared to the bleak, anxiety-driven future she could not now seem to escape. In her memory, June’s white Apple earphones were still playing her newest album download from the band Jet.  June smiled to herself at the memory, she had thought she was being quiet when she sprang up the stairs to her room, still humming along with the music. Cautiously she slowly creaked open the bedroom door. Whew! Her roommate was awake. June took off her headphones and asked her roommate how it was going. Her roommate giggled and said, “What are you listening to? I heard you humming from the front door!”

With a flush of embarrassment sweeping across her face, June blurted out, “I’m so sorry! I really thought I was being quiet!” Her roommate just looked over and laughed.

 

During the walk to the coffeehouse Ari noticed the crisp autumn breeze, the leaves swirled tumultuously, as the wind nipped at his face. Ari had always liked autumn, the changing color of the leaves, the hot apple cider and the pumpkin patches. While wondering what fun fall activities might be in store this coming autumn, Ari began contemplating the day ahead of him. There was his job at the coffeehouse where he happily listened to the sing-song chatter of the daily patrons. Then there was—there was what? Lately he had made no evening plans. It used to be that he would hang out with his siblings after work and the whole family on weekends. Now that his brother had moved hours away, his parents had retired to Florida and his sister was busy with the new baby, it seemed he had no social life. Ari wasn’t one to ruminate and he didn’t lament the lack of social stimulation, but he did wonder what he would do in the long evening ahead.  

 

Back at her apartment, June’s mind drifted into the medication-induced numbness, even as she paused to reflect on other memories from college-life. Sure there had been parties, and boys, and drama, but what June remembered most was the daily, seemingly inconsequential fun she used to have. For instance, she and one of her housemates, had concocted a silly, but compelling game that they called the scare contest. The goal of the game was to “scare”, or startle the other person by any means possible, hiding in the closet, jumping out from behind a closed door, or any other imaginable way to take the other person’s breath away. The plan was to keep track for the whole school year and the winner would get some kind of large prize. The details were fuzzy—the fun was in the process of playing the game.

Remembering this, the tiniest wisp of a smile started to form on June’s face as she got out of the shower. No sooner had the smile reached the edge of her cheeks when reality set back in. It was already 9:05. She was due in to work in just 25 minutes and it was still at least a 20 minute drive if she hit the traffic lights just right. At least there’s a reason for a little anxiety right now, June thought to herself dryly. She threw on some clothes, grabbed her purse and headed out the door.

 

Over at the coffeehouse Ari was well into the late morning rush. He didn’t have time to think as he prepped one cappuccino, one latte and two chai teas… The morning flew by. The coffeehouse where Ari worked was located on Beechmont Street, the main thoroughfare through downtown Monroe, MN. Just north of the coffeehouse was the grocery store where June worked. June passed by the coffeehouse every workday, and on the occasion when she was not running late, she would stop in for a hot Jasmine tea. This was one of the few small pleasures June could muster to enjoy these days. Today was not one of those leisurely days however. She hoped to slip into the grocery store unnoticed, so as to avoid yet another harsh admonishment and lecture about the virtues of being on time.

Of course, as soon as she opened the door to the grocery store, the loud welcome bell chimed incessantly, alerting the manager of June’s just barely late entrance. There must have been some compassion in the air because June’s manager looked up, stared for a minute, and then proceeded over to another employee to explain the next task to be completed. June breathed a small sigh of relief as she donned her apron emblazoned with the blue anchor logo of the grocery store. No sooner had she tied the apron when a customer came over to ask where some esoteric item might be found on the shelf. June looked blankly into the customer’s eyes, tried to imagine whether they even sold the inconsequential item at the store and managed to squeak out, “I’m not sure that we carry what you’re looking for.”

Overhearing this exchange, the manger peered sharply in June’s direction. “It’s in aisle 5, sir.” As the customer wandered off on his quest, the manager scolded June, “You’ve been here nearly a month, June. You should know the inventory better.”

 

Ari paused as he walked into the break room at the cofffeeshop. Had he even put his lunch in the fridge this morning? He looked over at his fading blue backpack. It didn’t seem to be any more full than usual, so he meandered over to the refrigerator and looked for the green reusable lunchbag he brought into “the office” each day. There, sitting on the second shelf was the bag. Ari scooped it out of the fridge and made his way over to the small booth-style seating designated for the coffeeshop employees during their break. Re-thinking his decision, Ari again scooped up the lunchbag and made his way outside. Despite the cool wind, there was still a slight warmth in the air—it could easily be one of the last nice days to enjoy the outdoors with the harsh Minnesota climate.

Ari sat on wooden, yellow-painted picnic bench in the small square across the street from the coffeeshop. Why would anyone decide to paint a park bench yellow? Ari thought to himself as he slowly took a small bite of his turkey and Swiss on Rye sandwich. Small brown and black birds—swallows?—swarmed into the square, hoping to capture a small morsel from Ari’s lunch. Ari didn’t mind the company. He enjoyed being outdoors—communing with the wildlife. Ari took his time eating, but was soon finished with lunch. With a smile and a large stretch he made his way back over to the coffeeshop.

 

In the grocery store, June looked up at the clock. She was scheduled for a five hour shift that day and had somehow, miraculously already made it through four of them already. It had been exhausting. As hard as it was for her get out of bed and get going in the morning, it was even harder for her to pretend to be okay in the face of all the “normal” customers on their routine grocery-shopping outings. Even though she has showered, combed her hair and even brushed her teeth today, June still felt like somehow she stuck out from the masses just as bad as a sore thumb.

June wearily looked around, taking stock of the store. Her manager saw the look of tired desperation in June’s eyes and took pity on her. “It’s pretty slow right, June. Why don’t you take a break and head over to the coffee shop.” The manager held out a crisp ten dollar bill, “I’d like a long flat expresso. Get yourself something too.” June took the money and began the five or so minute walk over to the coffeeshop. The air was crisp and the wind tickled her nose, but the sun was shining and she was happy to be outside, away from the faint smell of over-ripe, but not quite yet rotten produce that prevailed throughout the grocery store.

June entered the store and heard, ”All the other kids with the pumped up kicks…” playing the radio in the background of the indie coffeehouse. Three of the walls were wallpapered from the chair-rail on up with a light green dogwood leaf pattern and off-white, almost beige background. The entire fourth wall, as well as from the chair-rail on down, on all the walls, was covered in a dark green paint. Even though the coffeehouse was less than two years old, there were smudges and chips interspersed throughout the otherwise tidy structure.

Ari smiled softly as he looked up from the last order he had prepared. Jasmine tea girl had entered the coffeehouse. There was no line, so Jasmine tea girl walked directly to the register and ordered. “Hi, I’d like a—“ June started to say.

“Jasmine tea with a hint of honey” Ari interrupted from behind the expresso machine.

“Jasmine tea girl” as Ari had dubbed June in his head, smiled and nodded her head. She started to walk away when with a quick inhale and a turn on her heel, she exclaimed, “Oh!” June’s face turned red, as her self-consciousness kicked into high gear. “I almost forgot, my manager—er—I—I mean…I need to order a long flat expresso” she blurted out, sure that the entire coffeehouse was staring at her awkwardness.

Ari smiled kindly, “Of course” he said in a laid-back tone. June quickly turned her gaze away from Ari’s direction. She walked over the bookshelf and pretended to be engrossed by the faded book covers with obscure titles, like “The Axon Potential” and “When There Is Rain, It’s a Monsoon”. Soon her drinks were ready. Again June flushed with self-consciousness as she stepped up to the expresso bar to grab the beverages.

“Have a good day” Ari said gently with the hint of a laugh in his voice.

“Umm, sure, you too” said June, suddenly anxious to leave the coffeehouse, even if it meant getting back to work at the grocery store.

Through the glass panes of the coffeeshop Ari watched Jasmine tea girl walk down Beechmont Street pensively wondering where she was headed, what her plans were for the evening. He was used to listening, to having people strike up a conversation with him. He was not in the practice of initiating conversations with strangers, especially cute ones, like Jasmine tea girl.

 

June made it back to the grocery store. Thankfully it was almost quitting time. She settled in behind the cash register to finish up the forty or so minutes of her shift. Though it was easier than stocking shelves, June did not enjoy working the cash register. She felt so awkward around people anymore. The inane small talk irritated her to no end.

 

For Ari, the afternoon lull in the coffeehouse, from about two until about three pm, was lingering. Though there would be a slight uptick in afternoon coffee-seekers before the shop closed around four, for the most part, Ari’s day was winding down. Slowly Ari’s mind drifted back to his own day. Wistfully, he wondered whether any of the suggestions he had made for tomorrow’s Style section would be integrated into the newspaper. While humming the Pumped Up Kicks song in his head, Ari again began contemplating the long evening ahead of him. Though he enjoyed quiet time by himself, Ari had been feeling restless lately. Maybe he would go to the library after work and checkout a DVD. With his scanty salary, Ari preferred not to spend money on the typical cable or streaming services. Instead, he found most of this entertainment at the local library, checking out books and movies at his whim. Perhaps he would stop by the grocery store—pick up some cheap microwavable popcorn to enjoy with his DVD.

Yes—popcorn and a movie—that is what the evening would consist of, Ari decided. He happily started the end of shift process, content that he at least now had a plan for the evening. Soon he was again humming to himself as he walked out the door and up Beechmont Street on the way to the grocery store.

 

 “Have a good day!” cheerily chirped June’s latest customer as she unloaded her bags from the checkout belt. The time wore on. Even though she had been working the cash register for more than her allotted forty minutes before quitting time, she was bound to the register as all the other employees were busy or on break. She was starting to get annoyed—more annoyed than usual that is. Quickly reaching out to grab the items from the checkout belt, June clenched the canned good, well as her jaw, as she scanned those peas, the last item on the belt. She was just about to scream, to quit—to cry for help—anything to get her out of this unbearable situation.

Then she looked up. The coffeeshop guy was smiling directly into her pale green eyes. Ari couldn’t believe his luck. He had found Jasmine tea girl! Fumbling in his pocket, trying to find his wallet, Ari tried to strike up a conversation. “Umm, hi.” Ari said self-consciously. “You’re that girl—I mean from the coffeeshop—you’re Jasmine tea girl.”

June looked quizzically at Ari. Was this guy really talking to her—like he remembered her—like she had made an impression? Oh jeez June thought to herself, remembering her earlier awkwardness at the coffeeshop. He probably just felt sorry for her—or maybe she had left something behind?—wait, what had he said? Jasmine tea girl?

Ari took a deep breath. “So anyway, how are you? Did you enjoy your Jasmine tea today?” June nodded her head still trying to figure out what it is was that this guy was doing there, talking to her so earnestly. “It’s a nice day out there” Ari continued. “I’m thinking about—I mean I’m planning to—that is, er, do you like the library? I’m planning to hang out there for a while now.”

Stunned June cryptically thought, is this some kind of joke? Were his friends waiting outside to see if she would take the bait? Then, for some reason, she heard herself say, “Sure, the library is cool. I should be getting off work any minute now.” She had no idea what had gotten into her—what had made her act so bold.

“Cool.” Ari responded succinctly, heart racing. June saw that there were now two other cash registers open. She placed the Lane Closed sign on the checkout belt and started the end of shift process. Ari waited as she hung up her apron and clocked out. Then, slowly, happily, awkwardly, they walked out of the grocery store together and up towards the library.

It was an everyday triumph