Fiction: The adventures of Chelsea the social worker, part 2!

 It's the start of what I planned as a full week, and it turns out all I have is more of the romance/ adventure of Chelsea the social worker. As it happens, I worked in Daisy. Here's links for Chelsea's first installment, and Daisy's backstory. By the way, the names are all authentic Albanian, and all the X's come out as a "J" sound. So, herre goes, again, because I have literally nothing else.

Chelsea woke in a moment. In that first moment, she was happy, lying in bed in her reproduction Fiat camper van, with the sun on her cheek, a touch of breeze in her hair (shoulder length then) from the raised roof extension, and a man underneath her, nestled tightly against her hip. Her happiness lasted as long as long as it took to realize what had wakened her. “What do you want?” she called out.

“Chelsea O’Keefe?” a voice called out.

She grabbed for a sports jersey she used as sleep wear. She answered without forethought or further calculation, “I’m here with my husband!” Of course, that made the man stir. She pushed a pillow in his face.

A rasping voice answered, “Ma’am, I’ve been explaining, your permit does allow you to use the auxiliary parking area, but there’s still a time limit of eight hours, and your vehicle’s been here for eighteen. And another thing, during daylight hours in city center districts, your camper needs to be configured in travelling position-“

Chelsea pushed a curtain aside and peered out the rear window. “Oh my god,” she said through gritted teeth. “You.”

A seemingly human figure with a visor in place of eyes stared back at her. “Yeah,” he said. “I get that a lot. Now, why don’t you both come out here and let’s talk… I’ll give you 3 minutes.”

 

She emerged from the van in the jersey and a pair of shorts. They were in a rooftop parking area otherwise occupied by delivery trucks, between two of the triple spires of the Arcostate Central Civil Administrative Center, otherwise known as the Trilon.  “I’m Percival Simmons, law enforcement AI,” the newcomer said as Shad emerged. “You can call me Percy.”

“What the hell time is it, anyway?” Chelsea said.

“10:00,” Percy said. Chelsea put her face in her hands. That was when he added, “Also, Monday.” She swore under her breath.

 “All right, you got me, we aren’t married,” she said. “We’re getting a domestic partnership, though. I can get that done by the end of the day.”

“That’s not my business,” Percy said. “They sent me here for the parking violation, which is potentially aggravated by abuse of your positions and credentials. You can take me being here as a show of maximum discretion. And by the way, somebody is asking questions about three automated flags of possible indecency at the Gordon Center, an out-of-order therapy booth that was not rated for multiple occupants, a disturbance at the Harryhausen Museum and a 1000% spike in complaints at the Aster Plaza aquatic recreation area.”

He turned to Shad, and held up the picture of another man. “I also have to notify you,” he said, “that Ms. O’Keefe has a Level 3 Protective Order against this man, Mihai Xhaxhka. If you come in contact with such an individual, you are advised to call police for your own protection. Incidentally, he is still her husband, at least according to the Seventh Siptarian Orthodox Synod.”

Chelsea sighed. “So does this get reported to our supervisors?” she said.

“You work together?” Percy said.

“In the same office,” Chelsea said.

“You go on report, then,” Percy said. “He can stay off record. Unless there’s any violations of the protective order to report.”

Chelsea glanced over her shoulder. “No, there’s been nothing like that,” she said. “I haven’t been in contact with Mike in 3 and a half years.”

“Again, none of my business, unless there’s a danger to you or him,” Percy said. “I have to say, I can’t tell you your business, but in mine, people who get off to a start like this go downhill fast. If you want to go straight, take it into the open.”

Shad was still in the passenger seat as Chelsea climbed back in the van. “I don’t know about you, but I’m 2 hours late for work. At least I can sign in and freshen up in the therapy room,” she said. She turned to him. “Well, what do you think of big city romance, newbie? I’m afraid I can’t drive you home, but if you don’t think this is going to work, I can drive this thing off the ramp and see if we get lucky with a fuel explosion.”

“Of course I want to see you,” Shad said. “I want to be with you. I’ll marry you, if that’s what you want.”

“Be serious,” Chelsea said. She promptly gave him a more reassuring glance. “Of course I’ll be your partner. I know the right people to do that by lunchtime. Just nothing mushy, right? I tried true love for life; you knew that. This time around, I just want the therapy. You can go with that, right?” She promptly giggled. “Frink, I sound like a teenage boy…”

“By the way,” Shad said, “the thing about going over the ramp… that was really dark.”

“That’s just me,” Chelsea said. She looked back at Shad. “Look, I know I’m late. If you are too, I can talk to your supervisor…”

“Chelsea,” he said, with sudden maturity, “I don’t have a supervisor. I don’t work for Domestic Services.”

She pulled over and stopped within moments. For quite a bit longer, she stared straight ahead. “I really thought you knew,” Shad said.

“Okay,” Chelsea said. “Okay. We can deal with that. Who’s your case manager?” She turned her head. This time, Shad just stared back at her.

“Diane,” Chelsea said. “At least she was with us, for a while…”

She dialed the woman she considered her best friend on her wrist phone. But when the line picked up, she continued to stare in silence. Finally, a voice said, “I thought you knew.”

“Okay,” Chelsea said. “Okay then… I’m losing my job. But we have each other, right? And they can’t deny, I closed your case. And hey, what else can go wrong?” And as she spoke, Shad only shook his head.

 

* * *

At noon, they met in Diane’s office. “Now, the one thing that’s keeping us all in the clear is that you met by chance, in public,” she said, frowning even then. “That means, miraculously, you’ll probably keep your job. I still might not be that lucky, which is kaka considering all I didn’t do was take an ice bucket to both of you. At any rate, since you promptly reported the fraternization, to me, I can take over Shad’s case until we arrange a proper handoff. Beyond that, you can really do whatever you want, more’s the pity. And before you ask, don’t say anything about a domestic partnership. Apart from anything else, you still haven’t taken care of things with Mike.”

Shad looked between them. “What really happened, with the other guy?”

“Not what you might think,” Diane said.  “I was with her all along. All you need to know is, he tried to get a divorce harder than she did. The clerics still wouldn’t budge. The only justification was that they never appeared for counseling, which would really have meant trying to `reconcile’. We all finally gave up. It probably won’t matter, unless you care about a religious service.”

Shad just shook his head. “I’m a member of the Church of the Logos,” he said. It was the closest thing to a state religion in the Arcostate, a universalist, nearly synthetic version of monotheism that only ardent loyalists in the government followed devoutly. “They’ll give us a blessing.”

Diane nodded. “You are a believer, aren't you?” she said. “But don’t think you’re getting off easy. Have you told her about your diagnosis? Or your family?”

He froze, only for a moment. “She knows about the diagnosis,” he said. “The rest… They can’t do anything. I told them, I can live without their money. They don’t control me. Not any more.”

“Suit yourself,” Diane said. “Just remember one thing, she forgot you. Didn’t you, Chels?” She glowered at Chelsea. “Oh, and here’s one more thing to think about… we were going to offer you a state assignment.” She held out a stiff, sealed envelope. “The only thing I can tell you is, it’s not her.”

 

As they stepped out of the office, Chelsea turned to Shad. “Well?” she said

“What?” He looked at her. “Look, I knew when we met the first time, you wouldn’t remember me. It’s just how you are when you’re here. When I saw you, I thought, we were getting a second chance.”

“That’s sweet,” she said, “but what about that?” He followed her gaze to the envelope. “Open it,” she said. “Really, I want you to. Just so you’ll know.”

“I don’t need it anymore, Blue Bell,” he said. It was the first time she had noticed him saying the name, and it immediately irritated her. “I’m withdrawing my petition. I don’t need it anymore. You’re my one and only, if you’ll have me. But if you want a souvenir…” He handed the envelope to her.

“You sweet boy,” she said. “You really think she would let you go.” She kissed him.

* * *

 

Her 1 PM appointment proved to be the 14-year-old Siptar girl whose mother was murdered on Wednesday. Chelsea had braced herself, yet she still wasn’t prepared for the girl. What unsettled her immediately was her composure. She seemed almost emotionless, if not for her bemused curiosity as she stepped into the office. “Hello, Diellza,” she said as the girl came in. “I’m Chelsea, if you remember.”

“Of course I remember you, you have blue hair,” the girl said. “Say, you pronounced my name right. But you can call me Daisy, everybody does. Hey, who’s your boyfriend?”

Chelsea smiled. “We don’t discuss our relationships with clients,” she said.

“Well, if nobody’s supposed to know he’s your boyfriend, why’d you kiss him?”

Chelsea blushed. “You… saw that?”

“No, but I heard about it,” she said. “Just now, I passed this red-headed guy who smiled at me, and I heard another guy say, `Damn, did you see, the psycho with the blue hair was making out with that guy?’ Then the other guy said, `That’s nothing, I saw a cop throw them out of the Aux lot parking lot, the security guy said her van had been there since 5 PM yesterday-‘”

“That… was inappropriate,” Chelsea said. “If you tell me their names, I’ll make sure they’re talked to. But just to be open, he’s my fiancée.”

“Was he your fiancée on Thursday?” Daisy said. “Because I didn’t think you even had a boyfriend on Thursday. I can usually tell…”

“Yes, we…. met Friday,” Chelsea said. “Now, why don’t we talk about you?”

“That’s fast,” Daisy said. “Did you humble yourself with him? That’s what we call it. Is snogging the same thing? Say, do you know your fiancee’s mental? He seemed kinda mental to me. I can usually tell.”

Chelsea gave a forced smile. “He’s not `mental’, he has autism,” she said. “The doctors say you do, too.”

“Hey, I know I’m mental,” Daisy said. “There’s nothing wrong with being mental.”

“Daisy,” Chelsea said. “We may need you to help us if we’re going to help you. Your mother is gone. It looks like your grandparents passed on a while ago, at least on her side. It looks like she had a couple sisters, but they’re in the wind. On your father’s side, we hardly have anything. Can you tell us anything about the rest of your family?”

Daisy shrugged. “I know I’m only half Siptar,” she said. “There’s a thing we do, we call it Humbling of the Eye, like love at first sight but crazy wild. Like, a woman can look a man she never even met before in the eye, and lead him away to humble her right then and there. The story goes that it’s because our women can pulls a man’s soul out with our eyes. Anyway, Mom thought it happened to her, only it was with an Outsider. The family and the elders cut her off, than he left her too. She married Xhoi because she thought that would get her back in, but it didn’t work. Then he killed her.”

She finally really looked at Chelsea. “They said Xhoi’s dead,” she said. “Did I kill him? I think I might have hurt him, but I don’t really remember. Do you think I killed him?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “The officers who were sent to help you had to fire on him. Lots of things could have happened. Because you’re under 16, they probably won’t say. They may never know.”

“I don’t really care,” Daisy said. “I’m just glad he’s dead.”

“Do you remember what he tried to do to you?” Chelsea said. She looked Daisy in the eye. The girl averted her eyes.

“He said I took his soul,” Daisy said. “He said he was going to humble me to get it back. He dragged me into his room. Then he left me when he heard my mother coming…” She took a deep breath.

“Stop looking at me,” the girl said abruptly. “It’s disrespectful.”

“I’m not one of you,” Chelsea said.

“Bull kaka,” Daisy said. Suddenly, she met Chelsea’s gaze with a piercing stare. For a few moments, they stared at each other, until they broke in mutual respect.

“You know what I think? I think you learned the Humbling of the Eye from one of us,” Daisy said. “And I think you did it to that man.”

Chelsea smiled. “Maybe,” she said. “I suppose, maybe, I tried.

“You’re mental, lady,” Daisy said. “But you’re okay. So anyway, there’s this one guy, he’d know where my father came from…”

When it was over, Chelsea activated her wrist phone and punched in a number by hand. “Hey, Shad,” she said. “What do you say to getting together tonight?” She listened, and then smiled. “Well of course, what else would we do?”