The Routine

By Robert D. Gordon

Sometimes, we have no idea of what we truly need until it appears:

Against the backdrop of the Windy City, Keith McCallum finds himself enamored with the beautiful, serene breeze that is Alana Taylor, who also eagerly looks forward to the fortunate coincidence of their daily rendezvous in the McGregor building lobby. Even under the cloak of secrecy and cautious hesitation, their mutual admiration does not go unnoticed by their friends and colleagues, many possessing ulterior motives of their own.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781626752405

Robert D. Gordon

I am a retired Army National Guard officer with twenty-two years of active duty, including two tours in Vietnam, and six years of inactive military duty. I served in the US Marine Corps, beginning in 1958 at the age of seventeen, and spent twelve years in what I call my “piss and vinegar days.” Then, after getting my degree at California State University, Long Beach, I joined the Army National Guard and received a direct commission to captain. I then started working for the Guard full time as an AGR officer and spent another twelve years before I retired as a major. During this period, I went to several military schools, including Command and General Staff College, Fort Leavenworth, Kansas (class of 1989). The time spent in the Army Guard was my "Managemet and Leadership days". I was a company commander of a mechanized company and served in several staff positions at the battalion headquarters as well as an assistant operation officer at the brigade headquarters. My last assignment was as a mechanized battalion executive officer. I started this project when a cousin of mine wanted to know what her dad had done during World War II in an engineer regiment. All she knew what that the regiment was in North Africa and Italy and that it was an African American regiment with white officers. She knew her dad was promoted to lieutenant colonel at the age of twenty-nine. Finding that there was no immediate information on the regiment, I decided that it needed to be recognized for its accomplishments. At the present time, I live in Kansas, on a small ranch in the middle of nowhere, raising cattle and watching the world pass by very slowly. I love to fish, and I love my ’59 Chevy sedan that I cruise around in every week, if not more. I enjoy all my small animals—dogs and cats as well as my mini mules. I travel as much as I can to California to see my kids and grandkids, as well as to Australia, Italy, Alaska, and Japan. I attend rodeos when they are close by, and I carve various animals during the winter. I read a lot and write.

Book preview

Commencement

1. Revelation:

I am more than impressed by her. Her smiling eyes and confident stride, the way her words dance upon her lips – the subtle charm of her Good morning awakens me anew daily. I could never disguise my delight in our routine encounters - 8:24 a.m., Monday through Friday, in the northwest lobby. Grateful that traveling mercies were bestowed, or is it the earlier than usual departure from home – the carefully planned walk to the coffee house one block away, the same order every morning, mocha latte cappuccino and a slice of walnut banana bread. Every step measured while pacing through this indistinguishable sea of commonplace pleasantries and hustling wayfarers – no second thought given to the range of expression, as varied as the clouds in the sky. There is no hope or joy or sorrow or despair. Only her, the all too familiar stranger that has managed to become the focal point of both my reverie and reality. Come rain or shine – save for holidays and vacations – she is as reliable as the earth supporting my every step and as necessary as my next heartbeat. Happen chance or happening is irrelevant, just knowing that this moment, its purity, is all the confirmation needed to accept this blessing as such. What I can say for certain is I’ve discovered that her eyes contain the same expectation and appreciation as mine – especially after a prolonged deviation from our norm. Soon enough, glances and smiles, slight gestures and customary phrases will develop into very mature acknowledgments. The safety of our apprehension, if left unchecked, could very well become a cell of discontent. I wish not to become imprisoned by trepidation and uncertainty. There is a freedom in our innuendo that I have come to require. I pray she feels the same.

2. Reflection:

Why am I so happy on a Monday morning? The weekend couldn’t go by fast enough. I tried my best to keep busy, hoping that time would rush along. I guess I should feel somewhat guilty about using my friends in such a way, merely filling in the unavoidable blanks between then and now. In any event, I was able to cross several necessary items off of my Honey-Do list, but it would truly be a blessing to cross off the first item: having a Honey to hand this list off to. We still haven’t pulled out of the station and it’s already 8:05. Who hops a turn-style at rush hour anyway? Holding up the train and interfering with the natural order of things. Look at me, blushing at the very thought of his return. I wonder where he’s been. He seems like the Caribbean type, probably hopped on a ship for a few days – hopefully alone, or with his boys or frat brothers. I’ll know soon enough, that is, if this commotion hasn’t made me late for my appointment. I still remember our first hello, he seemed somewhat shy. Actually he still does. I can tell that he was raised well: courteous, attentive, accommodating without being a pushover. I giggle a little every time I see him with his briefcase, bag and cup – a little OCD, or maybe, he just knows what he likes and sees no reason to change his preferences. Consistency is good - it has been for the past 9 months anyway – but growth is even better. It’s been 10 days – far too long to be left alone with one’s thoughts while also attempting to distinguish perception from reality. A part of me is saying that I am letting his cordiality get the best of me. He speaks to God-knows-how-many women every morning – what makes our hello any different? Am I simply one of his many prospects, or just someone who isn’t too self-absorbed to purposely avoid making eye contact and exchanging salutations with others? Whatever the case, my interest is beyond piqued and a response to his inquisitive nature is long overdue. I hope his coffee took a little longer than normal to brew this morning. I need my daily pick-me-up as well.

3. Repetition:

"Wow, No Daphne today! Keith says to himself upon noticing that his usual cashier is not behind the counter at his favorite cafe. He can’t remember the last time that her presence did not officially signify his return to the obligatory. Her smile and nod from a distance disarmed the need for repeatedly giving his order. Their exchange had long become established, as Keith is certain it has with other choice customers. He has become so accustomed to their regularity that her absence forces him to reacquaint himself with familiar surroundings. Every ensuing step of this redundant shuffle has served to notify him of the detail hidden within this previously non-descript ritual. How many of these people has he shared these exact moments with on a regular basis, totally unaware of their existence? Even in the conveying of the expected, it is surprising how few words are uttered during his daily commute. At some point hello and good morning" became pre-programmed requirements, rather than sincere greetings. Keith’s smile has become uniformly affixed and his gestures second nature, making him more robotic than engaging in his actions. The rush – the emotive necessity comes only from the object of his desire. In their moment, his smile is genuine. Their words, albeit brief, are significant. The wanting of reciprocity is essential, but it is already 8:22; today is a long shot. Maybe a respite is needed, a delayed reunion is a reunion nonetheless and Keith hopes that the unexpected prolonging of their reconnection will bring an ever greater reception. Perhaps forces greater than themselves are beckoning much needed winds of change. Uncle Charles always said that constantly playing it safe only reinforces insecurities. It appears that it is high time for Keith to remove his inhibitions and receive what time and place have deemed appropriate. Could the predictability of his daily routine be merely symbolic, a cherished security blanket to accompany him while sleep walking? Does the Sister in the northwest lobby represent a beautiful possibility that serves to alert him of possibilities beyond his own presupposition? Regardless of his adherence to and comfort in his yesterday, the inevitable has now become evident. A day devoid of familiarity – whether temporary or permanent – cannot be made justification for stagnation. Keith is in a familiar place and required to conduct himself accordingly, beginning right now…

Good morning! The cashier says cheerfully.

Good morning…Tanya, Keith says after reading the cashier’s nametag. I’ll have a mocha latte cappuccino and a slice of walnut ba – no, make that a small fruit salad, he says with a sense of adventure.

Change is good – especially in its ordained consistency…

4. Intercession [act I]:

"I don’t know what he did to you this weekend, but you just need to shake that shit off," Bernice abruptly tells Alana.

Although she hears her clearly; Alana assures herself that Bernice could not have been talking to her in such a way.

Don’t act like you don’t hear me Alana! Bernice says.

At that moment, Alana feels as if her melanin-rich skin turns pale white just long enough for every bystander to see her overcome with embarrassment.

Umm, Bernice, what are you talking about?

You know what I’m talking about, your mystery man – Mr. Good Morning that has you floating in here on cloud nine every day, Bernice answers. What happened – is he married? she pries.

No! Alana answers.

Gay?

Definitely not!

I knew it. Caught his ass hoeing around didn’t you?

Bernie, I am not going to sit here and discuss my private affairs with you. Whatever it is you think you know, you don’t – I am totally fine! Alana convincingly asserts. But I do appreciate your concern – if it is concern indeed.

While Alana definitely does not appreciate her crass approach, she knows that Bernice was just looking out for her, as usual. More like an aunt than a big sister, given their age difference, Bernice (or Bernie) has made it her self-appointed duty to take Alana under her wing and as she likes to say, Teach her the ups and the downs of the ins and the outs. She always has some kind of story to relate to what Alana’s going through at the time. She’s like that with many of the younger women around the office, but somehow, Alana and Kelly have become her primary focus. It isn’t as overbearing or embarrassing as it may seem. Given that Alana moved to Chicago nearly five years ago and does not have very many people that she would count as real friends, let alone associates, Aunt Bernie is a welcomed presence – more often than not. But she isn’t fooling anyone with her wiser than thou and been there done that haughtiness. Beyond her amazingly youthful figure and vintage diva glam, there are those deep, fragile, teary eyes. One can only imagine what this woman has seen in all of her days. As much of a southern belle as Scarlett O’Hara, her 20-plus years away from rural South Carolina has done little to wash away her accommodating, even acquiescing, upbringing. Bernice is a reservoir of experience and wisdom far deeper than her couture coiffed exterior suggests. Alana believes that Bernice’s hard shell will crack at some point – and hopefully she’ll be here to comfort her and learn why her eyes belie her beliefs.

What’s for lunch Lana? Bernice asks.

A-lana, and I’m just going to run down to the café today, I’m a little bit behind on this project. Alana says in a corrective yet playful tone.

"Girl, you worried about the wrong behind – with all that behind you got, the last thing on Thomas’ mind is a deadline. Ten minutes, the elevator – be there," Bernice insists.

Yes ma’am. Alana sheepishly replies.

Did you just Ma’am me little girl?Huh, no ma’am – I mean naw girl – 10 minutes. I’m there.

Alana is all but sure that she is going to regret going to lunch with Bernice, but nothing else has exactly gone according to plan today. Still somewhat frustrated about not seeing her lobby-mate this morning – Alana would have gladly given the fare jumper at the subway station a token herself if it would have helped matters along – 8:24 tomorrow morning is a long way off and Alana hopes that an adventurous outing with Bernice is just the distraction that she needs to take her mind off of her disappointment.

A veritable ball of nerves the entire morning, Alana has been unable to concentrate on anything but what if. What if he’s still on vacation or out of town on business? What if he got a pink slip and is out beating the street at this very moment? Worse yet, what if he’s on his honeymoon? Alana doesn’t know what he does, or even what floor he works on – he could be a mailroom clerk for all she knows. But in her opinion he‘d be the best dressed (and finest) mail clerk in all of Chicago if he was. Alana assures herself that it wouldn’t even matter – given his majestic stride and air of well-earned confidence, she’d be honored to help him sort interoffice mail anytime.

Aaaa-Lana Taylor, could you please stop daydreaming about Mandingo so we can go get something to eat! Bernice snaps, forcefully bringing Alana back to reality. Unlike you, I am on the clock, lil girl.

Okay Bernie, let’s go, Alana says as she gathers herself.

"You always know when and how to kill my high, and lift me out of my lows – I wonder why?" Alana says to herself while looking at Bernice as they head towards the revolving door of the McGregor Building.

5. Intercession [act 2]:

"Look man, I’m thankful for this job and everything – you know, times is tough – but I’m ready to take that next step, Maleek says to Tony as they man the main security desk at the McGregor Plaza entrance. Nothing against you or nobody else Tony, but I got goals, Bruh," He adds.

Whatever man, just make sure your goals don’t get your ambitious ass fired, Bruh, Tony replies to his younger partner. Ten minutes Tony, just cover me for ten minutes – I’m going to catch him as soon as he comes out of the elevator, Maleek bargains.

Aight Maleek, but that’s two you owe me now! Tony reminds Maleek.

Two? Maleek asks.

Oh you forgot, you amnesiac all of a sudden, Tony says, attempting to jog Maleek’s memory.

What? Amnesiac, ambitious – you been watching Malcolm X or something? You studying the dictionary Tony you must still be on letter ‘A’? Maleek jokes.

10 minutes ‘Leek – or imma get medieval on your A.S.S. Medieval! For real duke, Pulp Fiction? Man – I knew I shouldn’t a told you about netflix. Maleek responds.

Leek! He’s coming – go ‘head, 10 minutes! Tony tells Maleek.

Good lookin’ out Tone - how I look? Maleek asks.

Foolish, like always. What you going to ask for his number or something– man hurry up!

Gentlemen. Keith says as he greets Tony and Maleek on his way out of the building.

Good afternoon Mr. McCallum. Maleek responds. I was wondering if I could have just a minute of your time, Sir, he asks.

Sure, but I’m at a disadvantage. You are? Keith answers Maleek as they step away from the security desk.

Oh, I’m ‘Leek’ – I mean Maleek Harris, Sir – thank you. I noticed that your firm was in the process of hiring more staff for its private client security services, Maleek answers nervously.

Really? Keith responds, impressed by Maleek’s forthrightness. Have you submitted your resume and required security clearances Mr. Harris?

Sir – uhh, Mr. McCallum, I have them right here. The website did not say to whom exactly I should turn them in to, I apologize. I was just going to ask for your assistance in this matter, Maleek replies.

It’s fine, and please call me Keith; I’m trying to stay young for as long as possible. I appreciate your straightforwardness – I tell you what Mr. Harris, I’ll submit your information myself and if everything checks out, you’ll walk into your interview with a personal recommendation from me to present to the interviewing committee, Keith tells Maleek.

Wha, what – wow, really – Sir you’d do that for me, thank you Mr. McCa… I mean – I mean… Mr. Keith, Maleek stammers, as Keith is momentarily distracted by two women headed towards him and Maleek.

Good afternoon, ‘Leek! Bernice sharply greets the source of her latest discontentment.

Huh? Ooh! Good afternoon, Ms. Bernice – hello Ms. Taylor, have a pleasant afternoon, Maleek sheepishly replies to Bernice and Alana, who is now oblivious to Bernice and Maleek’s shenanigans, her eyes affixed upon Keith the entire time.

I apologize, Sir – for the distraction. Maleek apologetically says to Keith.

No distraction at all Mr. Harris – this has been very beneficial for me as well. Take my card, I’ll be in touch, Keith says.

Keith was so caught up in the sight of Ms. Taylor that he nearly forgot that he was on his way to lunch when ‘Leek stopped him. Overjoyed that fate would see fit to reward his deviation with her appearance, and judging by Maleek’s tone, Ms. Taylor is either a person of considerable clout, or very no-nonsense in her dealings, or quite possibly both. Nonetheless, Keith did detect a coy smile, which was more than likely in response to his adolescent grin. Five hours into the day and she appears even more magnificent than she does slightly past sunrise. If only Keith could have translated the hurried, precocious whispers she shared with Bernice while they walked away. At the very least, there was no sudden outburst of laughter as their conversation faded. But, her voice lingers and Alana remains within Keith’s periphery – unblemished.

Although he hasn’t eaten anything since having his small fruit salad for breakfast, Keith suddenly feels fulfilled. He begins to ponder the significance of his chance encounter and wonders if it had the same effect on Ms. Taylor in the absence of the morning rush. Does she view their exchange any differently than the countless others she conveys daily? Alas, it is pointless to place answers where questions remain. She smiled, he smiled, and present company was none the wiser, so he thinks. Hopefully this small step will bring them closer to taking the journey he longs for.

Excuse me, Mr. Keith, Maleek says to an obviously distracted Mr. McCallum.

Umm, yeah. I mean, yes Maleek, Keith responds as he comes back to reality.

Maleek timidly hands Keith the rest of his paperwork, which he forgot to retrieve in the midst of his midday mixer.

Thank you Maleek, you’ll be hearing from me very soon, Keith says before heading back to the elevator.

Thank you again Sir, I am really looking forward to the opportunity to interview with your firm, Maleek adds while firmly shaking Keith’s free hand.

Hidden behind the most expectant grin he’s seen in quite some time, Keith discerns a slight sense of embarrassment from Maleek. The deadpan pronunciation of his name was definitely familiar; Keith has received a similar acknowledgement himself a time or two – especially during his college days. It is the lash of a woman scorned and more often than not, an older woman.

Keith has always wondered why there is such a disparity in the sexual primes of men and women, which is further complicated by the advanced maturity rate of the more delicate gender. Add to this the constant shift in traditional roles and this sensual tango presents all the necessary ingredients for a burning bed – or a broken heart. Truth be told, Maleek could have been the object of either woman’s contempt, sisters are known to launch multi-faceted attacks at a single target, and with better precision than any military or predatory aggressor. Stick your stinger in the honey pool disrespectfully, and you’re liable to incur the wrath of every queen bee in the hive. Keith knows this first hand, and he definitely has the scars that serve as vestiges of his youthful transgressions.

6. Recognition:

If Bernice asks me to repeat back any of the drivel that she’s been spewing out for the past five minutes, I am going to be in a world of trouble, Alana says to herself as they head back to the office.

Mentally, she’s still standing in the lobby retracing every step of her 1:17 rain check. Even if 8:24 has little to no significance for Keith, it definitely does for her. Alana was pleased by his calm, yet attentive reaction. Even though she was off of her A game as well, she feels that she played it cool. Maybe it was for the best that neither one of them had the wherewithal to muster up their customary hello. Their silent exchange spoke volumes, and Bernice would make a whole meal from mere crumbs. Even though her eyes were burning a hole in the back of Maleek’s head, Alana is assured that Bernice’s cougar-meter was on high alert as soon as she saw Mr. Good Morning.

Alana can’t help but wonder what Keith and Maleek were talking about. Was it last night’s game, or the latest Beyoncé video? Who knows, but Keith was definitely engrossed in their conversation. Alana confirms her previous suspicion; he’s probably a mail clerk – God only knows how many fishing tales they’ve swapped over the years. Regardless of his position, Keith’s allure is undeniable – Alana couldn’t blame any woman for finding him attractive, but she’s certainly convinced that Keith is above using his charm as a weapon against helpless, lonely sisters. He has an air about him that doesn’t appear to lend itself to such childish activities. At least it seems that way, but she has been wrong before.

I saw that, Alana, Bernice sharply declares.

What Bernie – you saw what?

The way your eyes lit up when I spoke to Maleek. Now he knows that I told you about the picnic, Bernice says somewhat upset – and worried.

Whew, that was close. Alana gestures while Bernice isn’t looking, thankful that she didn’t catch her making goo-goo eyes with Keith.

Bernie please, Maleek was not paying me any mind, he was too caught up b.s.ing with his buddy, Alana says.

His ass was probably begging for a job. He looked like he had just seen a damn ghost when I spoke to him, Bernice quips.

Probably because you scared the bejeezus out of him. Alana imitates Bernice’s earlier deadpan tone: Good Morning, ‘Leek’. You said his name like it was some kind of plague."

No, I said his name like he tried to play me after the picnic, lil sorry ass, Bernice replies.

Bernie! Alana says emphatically while scurrying towards the breakroom. You are extremely loud, and please stop using that word, my goodness!

What word? Ass? Bernice sasses as she enters the break room. Girl, ain’t nothing wrong with ass – it’s even in the Bible, she adds.

See, you got problems, and you know that wasn’t the word I was talking about, Alana responds.

Oh Lawd, here we go. Ms. Malcolm, please don’t give me that ‘pick-a-negro’ speech again, Bernice implores while pouring a cup of coffee.

Everything’s not a joke Bernie, that’s our problem – we’re always shucking and jiving when we should be planning and building.

Alright, just let it go Alana… X, Bernice begs.

Whatever, and why are you still talking about Maleek? I thought it was just a heat of the moment thing – that was months ago, Alana asks hesitantly.

Yeah – two months ago, Memorial Day weekend. You acting like it was 1976 or something – it’s only July. It was spontaneous, but it was nice – he was a real gentleman, and not half bad, Bernice comfortably replies, while playing select moments of her rendezvous in her mind.

I can’t believe she is getting sentimental about a quickie in the park with the security guard, Alana thinks to herself as Bernice drifts further away in her daydream. Really Bernie, are you serious? Alana blurts out to snap Bernice back to the present.

Don’t look at me like that Lana. You’re acting like I wanna marry the boy or something – it was a nice moment. At least it’s more recent than your last moment, lil girl, Bernice sharply answers, somewhat upset with Alana for invading the privacy of her intimate fantasy. Oh, and I saw how Mr. 14th floor looked at you.

Who the hell is Mr. 14th floor? Alana asks innocently.

Girl you know that I know that you are too damn smart to play this damn dumb. I know you saw that tall, creamy brown complected roller coaster – and he looked like he wanted you to take a ride,

Shut up Bernice, no he did not – you always starting stuff, Alana blushingly answers, trying her best to restrain her mounting excitement while hoping that she hasn’t given Bernice enough pieces to finish putting the puzzle together on her own. I’m pretty sure that if anything, he was just being cordial, Alana continues.

Yep, and you my dear, have been cordially invited, 1st class, Bernie replies with mocking laughter.

Alana can’t stand Bernice’s cynical laugh, especially when it’s directed towards her. She can see the wheels turning in Bernice’s overly creative, sex-starved head.

Wait, the 14th floor – how does she know that, what’s on the 14th floor. Alana wonders as she walks towards the refrigerator to get a bottle of water. Well, Bernie has been here forever – she should have the scoop on every straight, single, eligible and sane man in the building by now. Yeah, he was checking me out, but he was such a grown man about it: eye contact above the neck line, with a friendly but not overly eager smile. He’s good. Maybe a little too good – we’ll soon see. As long as he doesn’t give me any reason to think otherwise, Mr.14th floor will remain in my penthouse.

Good, because you know Alana Taylor doesn’t fly coach! Alana tells Bernice before exiting the break room.

Pick your jaw up Bernie – your lil’ girl is much more experienced than you think!

7. Contemplation:

"Yes ma’am, I promise I’ll be there, Keith lovingly assures his aunt Jacqueline, who is too overjoyed to listen attentively. Yes, yes, I’m happy for her too. Yes ma’am, I just wrote it down. September 21st, 6:00 pm. Did you write my address down? Please don’t forget my invite. Love you too Aunt Jackie, I’m gonna call her as soon as we hang up."

Keith is momentarily left speechless by the thought of his younger cousin becoming someone’s wife. At last mention, Chrystal was still a high school cheerleader. Just when did she complete her master’s degree and move to Atlanta? How on earth is she 23 already? And last but not least, how did she find a single, successful – straight man in Atlanta? Keith bombards himself with questions that signify just how quickly time has passed, and how disconnected he has been from his family.

Keith still vividly remembers having to babysit Chrystal from time to time during his junior and senior years in high school. To this day, he is still thankful that Chrys didn’t tell anyone about the night that he snuck Rhonda into his aunt’s basement. Chrystal’s set-up was perfect, playing possum then sneaking downstairs as soon as she heard Keith’s quiet storm CD. Keith still wonders just how much she actually saw before her cat Bruno rubbed up against her leg and startled her. It didn’t matter by that point; if she was only there for a minute a two, she saw way too much for an eight year old to take in.

Just the thought of that night brings Keith to wonder just how Rhonda is doing now – she has to be about 35 or 36 – probably married to some unsuspecting pushover that has no idea of what his wife is truly capable of in the bedroom.

That’s usually how it happens, Keith says to himself. Most women get all of their experimentation out of the way early and then settle down and become good Christian women – get married, raise a family, only to revisit their youthful exploits as 30- and 40- something divorcees, and usually, they’re getting their groove back with a guy that’s barely older than their first born child.

That’s exactly why Keith is in no rush to walk down the aisle. He feels that he’s just started living his life, establishing his career and discovering exactly who he is and why he’s here to begin with. With no school loans to pay