Donald

Short Story by Rey David Morales of Cerro Coso Community College
2015 Met Awards - Second Place for College Fiction

Foamy water swirls and crashes in the stainless steel sink. It washes over white porcelain as plates are heaved, one by one, out of their sudsy depths. Set aside to dry after inspection, the dishwasher contemplates a time when dishes were in fact made of pearl. Pearl diver, that sounds much more impressive. The Crew Cuts play on the radio. The cook, a man in his twenties with a short stature but athletic build, sings along to the hopeful dreams of ancient pop stars as he prepares the next meal. The front door bell jingles loudly.

“Looks like he’s here,” the cook says with a smile. “After this order I am going out there to the front to cover for you-know-who. Be on your best behavior with Big Chief, okay?”

Big Chief is actually the owner of the restaurant and the boss, and genuinely an easy going guy. Cook makes his exit out the Westernesque red double doors to the main dining hall to take on his new role as a waiter. The boss makes his entrance. He is a short, slightly overweight man of fifty-ish, wearing a signature trucker cap with the name of the eatery embroidered on the front. They exchange pleasantries and continue working.

After a few orders business dies down. The boss, in his idleness, strikes up a conversation with the dishwasher.

“¿Como Estudo?” he asks. The boss speaks no English. Though he can read and write it and somewhat understood when someone is trying to get his point across, his tongue never mastered it.

“Bien, mas o menos,” the dishwasher responds in his Chicano tongue. They then discuss other areas of life such as one’s condition both in health and romance. The dishwasher always says he’s doing well in both (a harmless half-truth). Another subject that comes up is family, particularly how the dishwasher’s two sisters are fairing since leaving his employment the previous spring. They were peaceful departures. The dishwasher says they are both fine. One has gone into business with a friend and the other now works as a social worker in the city. The boss admits that he misses them. They were good people who would never pull the “crap” his senior waitress—the woman the cook is filling in for now—pulls.

The boss asks how his studies are going. The dishwasher states (like a Catholic prayer) that he graduated high school last year, and furthermore, it’s now the middle of summer. The boss nods in remembrance and asks what he’s planning on doing now. The dishwasher doesn’t know.

Soon a big table arrives and the dishwasher is thrown to the front so that the cook can help the boss with the order, as the Cook puts it, of “Ronald Calderon” proportions. The dishwasher hates working the front. For some strange reason he feels a strange wave of embarrassment whenever he sees a familiar face. It’s not so much the individual that gives him shame but the blank smiles they give him, eyes that say they are but common restaurant-goers with no concern for anyone outside their booths, a look that the dishwasher had not experienced a year earlier. Maybe he had given it, too.

No faces today. The dishwasher works the floor efficiently and at ease. Eventually the customers leave and the day turns to night. The boss leaves early, telling them they did a fine job and to keep his share of night’s tips. The cook gives him some anyway.

A lonely stranger stumbles in toward closing time.

“Hey, can you handle this?” the cook says, “I’m going to start getting ready for clean up.” He heads into the kitchen.

The stranger staggers to the cashier’s counter and stops himself from slamming into it. He asks if they sell chile verde but wrapped in a tortilla. The dishwasher asks if he means chile verde burritos and receives a fervent “Yes! To Go.” He pays with a debit card and attempts to get cash back. The dishwasher tells him that service isn’t offered here. The man apologizes and sits down.

When his order is finished he grabs it with shaky hands, states, “The Misses thanks you,” and stumbles out. The dishwasher goes to the back.

“Geez, did you see that guy? He was on something for sure.”

“Yeah, I know him,” the cook says. “Name’s Donald.”

“Donald?”

“Yeah, went to school with my dad, I guess he was some kind of genius. Got a perfect score on his SATs, every university wanted him.”

“What HAPPENED?”

“Don’t know exactly. Stayed for some girl, girl got hooked on meth, he did too. Last I heard his ‘Sweetheart’ left a few years back and he shacked up with someone else.”

“A genius … he could have gone anywhere he wanted.”

“Where else would he go, this town’s awesome.”

The dishwasher refuses a ride home only to discover he can’t be picked up. He begins his thirty-five minute walk home. There are few street lights in town. Save for a few passing cars, the trek is mostly dark. Along the way he passes streets where old friends once lived, illuminated by dull moonlight.

He still thinks about her sometimes. About words unsaid and flesh that never really touched. But the stars are beautiful here. He takes a short-cut through a dirt alleyway lined with wooden fences. Halfway through the path one of the town’s only streetlights illuminates a familiar figure, a crushed Styrofoam container lying next to it. Heart pounding, he walks up to it. It’s Donald, apparently mugged, face stomped, a torn wallet at his hand.

He fought desperately for that wallet, not for the currency in it but the words stitched into it: To my Einstein. –B. Between his fingers is clutched a picture—of a younger man and a pretty woman.

The dishwasher quits the following month. He is gone by summer’s end.

Psychological Evaluations of Byron, Shelley, and Keats

Creative Non-Fiction by Reagan Wolfe of Cerro Coso Community College
2015 Met Awards - First Place for College Creative Non-Fiction

__________

San Jose City College
Disabled Poets Program & Services
2100 Moorpark Ave.
Poet Services Building
San Jose, CA. 95128

Re: Byron, Shelley and Keats

PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATIONS

Names: Byron, Shelley and Keats

Sexes:  Male

File Name: Romantic Poets, Second Generation

Ages: All died before their time

Prepared for: San Jose Poets Clinic

Date of Report: 3.13.2014

Completed by: Reagan E. Wolfe, PhD, FACFE, DABPS

CONFIDENTIALITY STATEMENT:

The information contained herein in this document is intended only for the individual addressed and may contain information that is privileged and prohibited from disclosure to any other party under the applicable law.  This information is to be considered extremely confidential and is to be released only to duly authorized agencies or individuals.  This information is intended only for the use of the individuals named above. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that reading, disseminating, disclosing, distributing, copying, acting upon or otherwise using this information in this document is strictly prohibited.

Presenting Problem:

John Keats is a white male who is in his early twenties.  He is self-referred for an evaluation to assess for a learning disability stemming from his inability as he reports to write poetry.  He states, “When I write poetry, it just doesn’t come as easy to me as it does for my contemporaries, although I do write a lot of material.” In addition, he reports an ongoing difficulty with attention, he is high-strung, and has distraction factors which in turn trigger a sense of depression.  The overall results of the Millon College Counseling Inventory (MCCI) point toward elevated scores of a moderate Anxiety disorder.  Results also suggest that he has difficulty with sustaining energy and effort with his many other tasks which include apothecary duties, medical training and assisting surgeons. He acknowledges he is experiencing a Dysthymic mood, resulting in a feeling of dejection and feelings of inadequacy, perhaps stemming from the loss of his parents at a young age.  In addition this mood may have caused his inability to commit full-time to writing poetry, sooner.  Last, he has an elevated score on the Clinical Personality Patterns on the Compulsive scale (score of 94) known as Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. This score suggests he can be behaviorally rigid, meticulous, may be a perfectionist and an overachiever. 

Presenting Problem:

Lord Byron A.K.A. George Gordon Byron, is a white male who is in his mid-thirties.  He was referred by Samuel T. Coleridge who was previously treated for a significant form of hero worship (Shakespeare and Milton).  Lord Byron presents himself as a larger than life person who actually writes about heroes perhaps as a way to fulfill unsatisfied desires or as a form of seeking an identity (perhaps one like Zorro).  He also admits that he is a risk-taker who has amassed large debts and who also has a sex-addiction.  He has an elevated score on the Clinical Personality Patterns on the Compulsive scale (score of 150) known as Obsessive-Compulsive Personality Disorder. This score suggests he has a repetitive lifestyle with patterned behaviors.  Fear of social disapproval can lead him to suppress his strong resentment and anger toward those whose approval he seeks. Results on the Brown Attention Deficit Scale – Adults indicate that there may be a function of attention deficit operating with this individual. Such individuals tend to be slow in getting started and have difficulty in getting organized, because of being scattered or being inhibited by worry (Organizing and activating for poetry).

Presenting Problem:

Percy Bysshe Shelley is a white male who is in his late twenties. He has been referred by his wife Mary who is concerned with his sociopathic tendencies.  Shelley states that he suffers from various phobias which culminated from a difficult childhood in which he was the victim of excessive bullying.  As a result of his bullying, he participated in sadistic behaviors that he attempted to downplay as harmless pranks.  These ‘pranks’ as he called them included electrifying doors.  With regard to Clinical Syndromes, results indicate that Mr. Shelley is feeling extremely apprehensive, (Anxiety, 82) or specifically phobic, is typically tense, indecisive, and restless.  He may experience a notable sense that problems are imminent.  For example, he may worry that he needs to fully represent common man in notable causes because poets are people who enact laws. He may also exhibit a hyperalertness to his environment (natural elements such as the sky and weather).  He also exhibits a generalized sense of tension.

Seventeen

Poem by Kelsey Saxton Hire, Senior at Burroughs High School
2015 Met Awards - First Place for High School Poetry

At seventeen
I never feel clean
I wear my
Stained cheeks
After weeks
When the
Silence breaks
And cuts
So deep
I can’t sleep

At seventeen
I always feel mean
I say
What I feel
As I
Try to heal
I see
Myself burn
As I
Try to learn

At seventeen
I never feel seen
I fall
To the floor
As I
Lose the war
My armor
Is darker
As my tears
And my fears
Lace a
Hopeful face

At seventeen
I do feel lifeless
But my
Tears truly
Remind me
I am
Human not
A mess

Undecided

Poem by Jennifer Jones of Cerro Coso Community College
2015 Met Awards - First Place for College Poetry

A red string tied tight around a ring finger.
Reminds me of what,
or who, I'm tied to.
I try to live around it,
this inconvenience.
A red string that tangles in the fingers
of a nice boy. He stops holding my hand.
Sometimes I travel, wrap the red string
round my wrist, my arm.
Heartbeat drumming, I always turn around
and watch it unravel.