FORGOTTEN FACES

By Mary Gant Bell

It didn’t matter that Karla Morrison’s mother had drilled into her head that she was an ordinary woman. Someone no one would notice. Karla still wanted to make a difference in the world. She just didn’t know how to achieve that goal.
Then one day, as she sat crying in the hospital hallway, a stranger named Mitch provided the answer. After the doctor confirmed that her brother would survive, she began her new career. Her new life.
Karla refused to allow herself to trust Mitch’s love however. Her mother had always warned her no man would put up with her for long. But ten years later, and he remained by her side. That fact brought her comfort.
Until her world unraveled. One chance encounter exposed the first lie. The rest followed like ants to a picnic. But this was no picnic. It was her very survival.
With more than her own life at stake, Karla needed a way to undo the choices she’d made. Choices designed to improve the world. Not ruin it. Who could she trust? And how could she save the people she loved?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Jul 11, 2021
• ISBN: 9781667151885

Book preview

Chapter 1

If no one has anything else, Bob said, closing his binder, we’re done. Thank you everyone.

Karla rubbed her eyes as her co-workers filed from the room. She nodded to Bob, her direct supervisor, as he shuffled past her. It was the best she could do to signal acceptance and compliance. The expected … required … reaction.

The bare walls of the room mirrored the emptiness of her soul. The scarred table and mix-matched chairs screamed government issue. The wear patterns in the carpet verified that the table and chairs had never been moved. The odor suggested the air filters hadn’t been changed since George Washington’s birth.

You okay? Tom asked. He stood beside her, in no hurry to return to his grey cubicle.

Do you remember our first?

Tom sat heavily in the chair beside her. Why don’t you ask for some time off. Bob will understand.

You didn’t answer the question.

Tapping his pen on the table, Tom sighed. I learned a long time ago to reserve enough energy to forget.

I see his face in my dreams every night.

Look, we all get burned out. Take some time. Sit on the beach and drink margaritas. Go someplace that doesn’t have access to cable television or news sources.

Weren’t you listening? We have a new recruit to process. Karla jabbed her finger at the meeting agenda on top of her binder.

We’ll cover for you. We’re a team. Everyone at this meeting today knows what exhaustion is. There’s no shame in practicing a little self-care.Karla closed her eyes and whispered, It sounds so reasonable. But only for other people. Not me. You know I can’t leave now.

I’m worried about you.

I’m worried about this whole project. Karla threw her hands in the air. Are we really doing the right thing? Is society truly improved because of our efforts?

In the beginning, I believed it was.

And now?

Tom picked up his binder and stood beside Karla’s chair, waiting for her to join him. He didn’t look her in the eye.

D’shawn Miller.

Do you want me to go with you to talk to Bob? He’s in his office right now.

I remember all their names. And their faces.

Tom returned to the chair. You’re a valuable member of this team. But maybe it’s time to ask for a reassignment. They want you on board for your compassion and empathy. No one else on the team has been able to work with the families the way you do. But if it’s become too much for you…

Karla snorted. Compassion and empathy? Seriously, Tom.

I’m dead serious. About everything I said. You need a break. Why won’t you use your vacation time?

Because no one else cares about D’shawn Miller or his family. And you know it.

≠

Later that evening, after every phone call had been returned and each useless report filed, Karla closed her kitchen door behind her. Dropping her briefcase on the table, she kicked off her shoes and sighed. Her stomach grumbled, reminding her she’d skipped lunch. Based on the cleanliness of the kitchen, Mitch had obviously forgotten that Thursdays were his night to cook.

Mitch? Karla removed her hair clip and shook out her curls. Her sister used to harass her about how gorgeous her hair could be if she simply put a little effort into it. Now, her sister wouldn’t realize how inappropriate it would be for her to show up at a recruit’s home looking like a runway model.

Mitch didn’t respond, but the sound of running water in the shower answered her question. At least one question. Now that she knew where he was, she’d find out what he planned to make them for supper.

Karla stripped in the bedroom before joining Mitch in the bathroom. She handed him a towel as he stepped from the shower. Did you leave me any hot water?

Bad day?

A new recruit.

Mitch threw the towel in the hamper and pulled on a pair of sweat pants. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.

Karla let the water sooth her aching neck muscles, envisioning her stress oozing through the drain. If only it were that easy. Her stomach groaned again and shifted her thoughts from her job to her next meal. Mitch said he would wait in the bedroom, not the kitchen. Maybe he’d had food delivered and planned on eating in bed. Despite her stress, Karla laughed. The last time they’d attempted to integrate food into their sex life had been a disaster. She doubted he’d repeat that fiasco.

Unconsciously, Karla wiggled the fingers on her left hand. No ring. She loved Mitch and felt confident he loved her, too. But they’d been together almost ten years. Plenty long enough to pop the question. She really wasn’t sure why he’d never proposed, or why she’d never pushed him harder in that direction. Their relationship was good the way it was. Living and loving together. Supporting each other in every area of their individual lives. A girl couldn’t ask for better than that.

But a girl could ask for something to eat. Turning off the water, she removed the shower cap from her hair and rubbed lavender-scented lotion into her skin. Lavender generated comforting memories of her grandmother, making a smile spread across her face.

D’shawn’s grandmother had called her today.

Shaking off that sour thought, Karla wrapped a fluffy robe around her and shuffled to the bedroom. Mitch stood at the end of the bed. Several pages of advertising graphics covered the dresser. Karla smiled when she saw the crease between his eyebrows. His imaginary objective buyer hat perched on his ruffled hair. He’d been an advertising executive since before they met. Normally, she enjoyed critiquing his graphics. Tonight was an exception.

Which one do you like best? Target audience is middle aged men.

Sorry. I turned my brain off in the shower. Can I answer tomorrow? The minute the words left her mouth, Karla heard her mother’s voice echoing in her brain. Never tell a man no if you want him to stick. Had she just thrown away her future?

Mitch kissed her forehead. Sure. Want to talk about it?

While we wait for dinner to be delivered?

Mitch tilted his head. Wednesdays are your night.

And I cooked last night.

His eyebrow raised. Guess you really did have a bad day. Sorry, babe. I lost track of the days. What are you craving?

A new job. Karla snorted and ambled to the kitchen. He’ll be gone by morning.

A taco salad and tortilla soup from Lupe’s, and you’ll be a new person, Mitch said, trailing behind her.

But my job will be the same. Karla retrieved her favorite mug and filled the kettle to boil.

What happened? Mitch sat at the kitchen table and waited for her to join him.

We got the binder for yet another new recruit today. Karla dropped a tea bag into the mug. Another very young male.

Is that a surprise? I don’t remember you mentioning that they were going to end the projects.

No. But I just don’t know … Karla paused as the tea kettle whistled. After filling her cup, she joined her boyfriend at the table.

What don’t you know?

If I can do it again. If there’s any value. If we’re really doing what we set out to accomplish. If I’m cut out for this kind of work.

Ask for next Friday off. We’ll take a three-day weekend at the beach. That always relaxes you.

Three days? Is that all you can stand to be with me? Karla, watch your mouth. No man buys a ring for a shrew.

So quit if it’s that bad. You’ve been with the agency for years. Maybe it’s time to expand your horizons. Find something else.

Karla closed her eyes and whispered, You know I can’t quit.

Mitch squeezed her hand. I’ll support you until you find another job. My salary is enough to maintain our lifestyle.

What about my brother? Karla twirled the cup between her fingertips. Without my income, we can’t afford his care.

Ask your sister to help.

Karla grunted. You’re kidding. Right? She walked away from both of us the minute she realized I expected her to be supportive. She stopped talking to me when she became fully aware of how tough things would be.

We’ll move him someplace more affordable.

Those places don’t provide adequate care. He’d forget to eat, and they’d let him starve. Plus, he needs a place that makes sure he won’t wander off and forget where he lives.

Huge challenges. I admit. Mitch leaned back in his chair. But not unsurmountable. His memory’s so bad, we could move him every day and he wouldn’t know.

But I would.

Which is part of the problem. If you didn’t have such terrific recall, your job wouldn’t be so stressful.

My unfailing attachment to details is both my best asset and my worse curse.

Which is a very marketable skill if you want to change jobs.

Karla sipped her tea and asked, If I seriously wanted to quit and find another job, what do I put on my resume? I can’t tell anyone but you where I’ve worked for the past decade. It’s all top secret. How do you explain that in an interview?

"People lie on resumes all the time, babe. Simply shift the conversation to what you can do for their company and sell yourself."

That’s just plain wrong. If I can lie then so can they. Karla waved her hand in the air. Tell me, Miss Morrison, where did you last work? ‘At the Pinocchio School of Responses.’ And then I ask, ‘What is the salary for this position?’ To which they now have permission to lie and say something just as stupid. Where does it end?

I’m sure your team would be relieved if you stayed right where you are. Mitch went to the fridge and returned with a beer. You bring so much stability to your projects. They’d be lost without you.

"How long can this program go on? It was supposed to be a ‘one and done’ sort of deal. I never signed up for a life-long commitment to this."

I thought you believed in their goals. Has that changed?

I had confidence in their original sales pitch. Social justice. Righting the wrongs in the community. Eliminating crime. Making the world a better place. It all sounded so honorable when they handed us that first binder of information.

Aren’t you still working toward those same goals?

My boss argues that we are. But if our methods really did work, why haven’t we seen any change by now?

Some things take time.

Karla pushed aside her tea mug to make physical room to lay out her verbal case. Our first project was supposed to remove the biggest drug distributor from the city. And it did that. But another thug moved into his spot within days. We eliminated the man, but not the problem. Not one of his customers experienced a single drug-free day. The void left by his death was filled before anyone’s high wore off. That project was deemed a success because of the way the goal was defined. All we had to do was eliminate D’shawn Miller, and our team declared victory.

Even though it didn’t solve the drug problem in the streets.

Exactly.

It did solve other problems for an entirely different group of people. Mitch’s voice was low, putting Karla’s senses on alert.

Which is precisely why I need a new job. It’s those other people, the unexpected consequences, that keep me up at night.

Chapter 2

The following morning, Karla stared at the pile of unanswered phone messages in her hand. Behind the pink message slips, the binder lurked, daring her to ignore it. Every time she asked her boss how she should prioritize her time, his answer was, They’re all top priority. It didn’t matter if it was a new recruit demanding her time or the mother of a past participant needing a shoulder. Bob expected her to manage them all. Or better said, do whatever it took to keep the problem from landing on his desk.

Considering the number of messages in her hand, Karla definitely had job security. It would take her all week to deal with everything these people expected her to do.

Job security in a position she no longer wanted. How wonderful.

With a sigh, Karla picked up the phone. Her first calls were to the people she knew wouldn’t be awake at this hour. After leaving messages on their voice mail claiming that she’d be out of the office for the rest of the day, she turned her attention to those she knew would be anxiously waiting by their phones. She could already hear their televisions blaring in the background and smell their smoldering cigarettes dangling from their lips.

Good morning, Ms. Johnson. How are you today? Karla prayed her apathy didn’t reach through the phone.

Howse I supposed to be? Howd you be if you ain’t got no money? I’s got three babies here needin’ food. My cupboards be as empty as my wallet. Ms. Johnson paused to cough out the damage fifty years of smoking had taken on her lungs. How is you? You really axed me that?

Ms. Johnson, it’s the fifth of the month. You should still have a balance on your welfare card. Karla closed her eyes and rubbed her temple.

Three babies eat lots. You’d be knowin’ that if you ever got a man to look twice at you. And you knows they ain’t give me enough each month. We be needin’ more.

We talked about ways you can budget your income to meet your monthly expenses, Ms. Johnson. You knew five days ago how long that money had to last your family.

Oh, nows you want to talk about my family? All these years later you wants to talk to me ‘bout family? If you’d be the last person on earth, I ain’t never be tellin’ you a thing about my people. Ms. Johnson’s voice drowned out the gameshow host calling another contestant to the stage.

Good. I don’t want to be reminded either. If you didn’t call me to discuss your son, what was the purpose of your call?

Ain’t you listenin’? I needs money. You said you’d take care of us. You promised we’d be better off. I didn’t sign up to starve. And I sure as hell know my son never wooda been in your program if he’d been knowin’ you’d be treatin’ his momma this way. No sirree. My boy loved me.

Oh, the things the mommas didn’t know about their sons. If Karla wrote down half of what she’d learned over the years about the hidden ways sons violate their parents, the book would fill a football stadium.

I’m sure he did, Ms. Johnson. However, like I’ve told you before, our agency will not be paying you any more money. You’ve received everything agreed to in the contract.

But that all be gone.

You’ve mentioned that before. Karla reminded herself that she couldn’t be rude. I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can tell you that we haven’t already discussed, Ms. Johnson. You agreed to the terms, and our agency delivered.

You delivered all right. Delivered my boy into an early grave.

Karla let the silence speak for her. The only sound was Ms. Johnson sucking the last bit of nicotine from her cigarette.

All right then. I guess if you ain’t gonna help me, I’s be goin’ someplace else. I’s find me some people who be carin’ about me.

Ms. Johnson, I … Karla stopped speaking when the line went dead.

She returned the outdated handset to its base and noted the time she had returned the call. Someone, somewhere, monitored all employee calls. Her annual evaluation required prompt responses to all phone messages.

This wasn’t the first time Ms. Johnson had made that threat. Most every family had at some point. But in the last three or four years, the threats had become more and more frequent. And more and more sophisticated. Karla hoped that whoever was monitoring her response rate was also taking note of that. At some point, one of these families was bound to go to the press. A grieving mother or a destitute spouse or desperate sister was bound to get so greedy that they’d risk everything, including the very teat they sucked on, to refill their bank account.

It was just a matter of time.

Karla wished once again that she could be long gone before that kettle boiled over. Her brother’s smiling face glared at her from the picture frame on her desk. Quitting her job would mean abandoning her brother and his needs. If she handed in her resignation just to maintain her own sanity, walked from this high paying job simply because she was exhausted, she’d be no better than the families of the recruits. Begging cash from any source she could find to keep her only sibling alive.

No. She couldn’t do that to her brother. Like her recruits, he deserved better.

Someday she’d figure out why she didn’t deserve better for herself.

≠

Karla looked up when Tom knocked on her doorframe. I have tacos. The paper bag in his hand confirmed his words.

Chicken or beef? Karla asked, glancing at the clock.

Both. Tom cleared a spot on the desk and opened the bag.

Her stomach rumbled at the first whiff of grilled meat. I skipped lunch. You’re an angel.

It’s probably pointless to say it, but you need to take better care of yourself.

There’s no reason for me to duplicate your efforts. Karla grabbed a napkin and unwrapped a steaming taco. She was too hungry to check the type of meat it contained.

Tom took his time settling into the industrial chair across from her desk. It rocked to the side, having lost a foot years ago. Karla preferred it that way. People didn’t tend to linger in uncomfortable chairs.

What would Mitch have to say about that? Tom asked.

What? That I’m about to inhale my third taco?

No. Tom cleared his throat. That I take good care of you.

Karla grunted and wiped her mouth. Mitch isn’t the jealous type. I’m sure he appreciates your efforts as much as I do.

No problem.

Karla dug threw her pocket and drops some cash onto the desk. You brought my favorite. Should I be concerned that you’re here to deliver bad news?

No need to be concerned.

But you do have bad news.

Tom slowly selected another foil-wrapped taco. Is that why I’m not married? I’m too obvious about my intentions?

You haven’t found the right woman yet because your job demands too much time with the slime in this city. Karla stuffed the empty wrappers into the trash and wiped her mouth one last time.

You and Mitch find time for a personal life.

Karla squinted at her teammate. Is that what you’re here to tell me? That this next project will take up so much of my time that I won’t have enough energy left to recognize my boyfriend for the next several months, if I’m even lucky enough to lay eyes on him?

You’ve read the file then.

Most of it. Karla stretched her arms over her head and leaned back in the chair. Nothing stood out as unusual though. What did I miss?

Did you read the profile of the recruit?

Same as the rest of them. Male. Under twenty-five. Black. Single. Multiple children by several baby mommas. Unemployed. Current drug use.

Tom studied his shoes. And the second one?

Karla sucked in air. I only received one binder. Are they running two projects simultaneously?

Tom kept his chin lowered, but met her eyes. No.

Karla processed this information, realizing that she might throw up the tacos she’d just enjoyed. Two recruits in the same project?

Siblings.

You’re kidding.

Tom returned to the study of his shoes as silence filled the room.

Karla shook her head and gritted her teeth. Remember your history lessons where mommas were not expected to lose all of their sons in World War II? The draft boards would allow one son to stay home to care for the family? Whatever happened to those days? The civilized way to manage society. Now you’re telling me that we’re taking two sons from one mother in the same project?

Tom’s voice was barely a whisper. Not two sons.

Daughters? The rage that filled Karla overwhelmed the urge to puke out her lunch.

It wasn’t my decision, Tom said, rubbing his chin. I just work here. Same as you.

You know this isn’t right. Nothing about this is …. Karla raised her hand, searching the air for the appropriate word. I can’t even ….

Well, you’d better…

Quit. Before this project begins.

Tom stood. Too late for that.

What do you mean?

Karla’s question was interrupted by Bob barging into the office. Are you two coming? Let’s go. He disappeared before Karla found her voice.

Told you it was too late, Tom mumbled, tossing the last of the napkins in the trash.

Where are we going?

To meet our new recruits.

Now? Karla paled. I haven’t had time to read the entire file. I’m not prepared.

They’re in the conference room. Tom stood by the door, waiting patiently for Karla to grab her binder and follow him. Both of them.

Chapter 3

Karla sat beside Tom and directly across from Jill and Jason Williamson. The rest of the team shuffled papers nervously while they waited for Bob to begin the meeting. As much as she tried to tear her eyes away, she couldn’t stop staring at the new recruits. They were absolutely not the usual participants.

When Jill smiled at Karla, she assumed she’d made a mistake. These two couldn’t be the next victims. Bob must have hired more people for the team. Her email box contained numerous threads she hadn’t read yet. Obviously, she had missed the announcement of new members. She’d always known when the recruits arrived. Their stench filled the air before their feet entered the room.

What was going on? Her stress level must be higher than Karla realized. Bob had added new members to the team and she’d missed it. And this project had more than one recruit. What other surprises would the day bring?

You must be Ms. Morrison. Jill’s voice glided across the table to Karla’s ears. It’s nice to meet you. We, my brother and I, have heard wonderful things about you.

Yes, ma’am, Jason added. We’re pleased to work with you.

Jason’s smile barely reached his face. His demeaner was less convincing than his sister’s calm countenance, but still sincere.

Karla felt the earth shift beneath her chair. Could these really be the recruits? Usually by this point in the meeting, she’d heard numerous curse words and wiped spittle from her binder. Had he really called her ma’am? She was more accustomed to being compared to a female dog.

Now that we’re all here… Bob clapped his hands once, a nervous habit Karla tried to ignore. Let me introduce Jason Williamson and his sister Jill. They have volunteered to participate in our next project. If we could just go around the room and introduce ourselves, I think that would be helpful.

Karla listened in shock as her teammates calmly, and almost apologetically, stated their names and job titles. Eye contact was minimal. Brevity controlled their comments. By chance, Karla was the last person to introduce herself.

But she found no words.

Karla? Bob’s voice broke through her brain fog. Introduce yourself.

I’m sorry. Karla leaned forward and stared directly into Jason’s eyes. I must have missed something here. Who are you?

Jason Williamson, ma’am. This is my sister, Jill.

Jill continued when she realized her brother wasn’t going to elaborate. We volunteered for this program. We fully understand its purpose as well as what will happen to us as a result of participating. My brother and I accept the conditions freely.

Bob clapped his hands again. Yes, that’s the very definition of ‘volunteer’ after all. Now let’s turn to page …

Excuse me. Karla raised her hand, like a schoolgirl asking to use the restroom during class. Am I the only one who’s confused?

Tom kicked her foot, but it didn’t knock Karla from her trajectory. With all eyes on her, she steamed ahead. I admit I haven’t read the entire binder yet. We’ve only had it one day. But these two are not viable recruits.

Jill and Jason turned toward each other and locked eyes while the rest of the team contemplated hiding under the table.