you heal yourself at the same time
because a dose of joy is a spiritual cure."
- Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Chapter 18
The Williams' House
Nick sat in his car the next afternoon, after having dropped Max off at Mimi's, and stared out his car windshield at the grey-blue Williams' House Group Home for Children. He clutched the steering wheel and gnawed his lower lip. Mimi had given hi excellent reference - a reference which would hold quite a lot of clout in this particular situation, given that Mimi herself had once worked for the head of the Williams' house, Barry Williams.
He could feel his heart beating in his chest against his ribs and his pulse escalating. This was the key to everything he wanted to learn. A good internship the summer after completing his bachelor's degree could lead to recommendations for grad school. A recommendation from Barry Williams, in the local child psychology scene anyways, was like having pure gold on your record.
"You can do this," Nick coached himself, "You've worked like a dog for this." He reached across the seat for his portfolio, which included a creatively designed resume that Raine had helped him put together when he got the call for the interview. He took a deep breath and reached for the handle of the door adn climbed out.
The parking lot seemed longer than a football field, though it only housed a capacity of maybe twelve vehicles at a time, and his feet felt like lead. Nick climbed the three steps to the entrance, which was decorated with painted children's hands, and let himself in. The blast of air conditioning tickled his nose, and he knocked on the office door. Upstairs and down the hall he could hear shrieks and giggles and other childish play sounds.
"Come in," came a woman's voice from the otherside of the partially closed door.
Nick pushed the door opened and stepped inside gingerly. A woman with frizzy red hair looked up from the keyboard she was typing furiously on and stared at Nick for a prolonged moment. "Can I help you?" she asked.
"I have an appointment with Dr. Williams," Nick replied, "About an internship," he added.
The woman's face lit up in recognition. "Oh you're that kid." She smiled, "Have a seat," she added, gesturing to a row of plastic chairs against the far wall, "I'll let Mr. Williams know you're here." She got up and waddled out of the room.
Nick looked around the office, which was relatively messy. A dead geranium sat in the window behind the secretary's desk, and a box full of toys that looked like they'd probably been confiscated were tucked into the corner. Nick smiled at the pokey-pointy-small-parts-abounding toys that were peeking out from inside the box.
The door opened and the secretary re-entered and hovered to her desk. She was followed at once by a shortish man with salt-and-pepper beard and hair (though it was more salt than pepper). He extended a hand to Nick, whose hand he squeezed firmly. "It's nice to finally meet you Nick," he said.
Nick smiled, "And you, Mr. Williams," he said politely.
"Please, call me Barry," he insisted, turning, "Come, let's have a talk in my office shall we?" Barry motioned for Nick to step into the hall, then glanced at the secretary. "Anne, let me know if you need anything, I'll be in my office with Nick here."
"Yes sir," Anne sang out.
Barry smiled, "Come along, then," he said, leading the way down the hallway, into the depths of the Williams' House. Nick looked around as they walked, noticing that the walls were decorated primarily with framed finger paintings and crayon works, which were labeled with names, ages and dates. The walls were painted cheerfully and though the carpet was worn from use, its nap was not as severe as most public buildings would be - allowing for falls to occur without excessive rug burn.
"What makes you keen on working here?" Barry asked over his shoulder as they moved through a living area, where an assortment of children were lounging about with books and toys of various sorts.
"Well, I grew up at Mimi's home," Nick answered, "And I'm aware what a difference a group home can make in a child's life and - well, sir, more than anything, I just want to make a difference in lives of kids who have been through things like I have."
Barry glanced back at Nick, a smile in his eyes, "I see," he said. He pushed open a red-painted door and motioned for Nick to step inside just as a little girl raced across the room and attached herself to Barry's leg. He looked down and rested a hand on the back of her head, "Ah Megan," he said, smiling, "What's the matter?"
"Jeffrey took The Order of the Phoenix out of the library, even though he's already finished it and I've just finished Goblet of Fire and I - I need to find out what happens to Harry Potter!" Megan wailed.
Barry sighed, "Oh dear," he said heavily, "That is a problem." He looked at Nick. "If you don't mind waiting here just a moment, I have an issue to resolve, as you hear." He winked and allowed Megan to lead him away from Nick.
Nick hugged his portfolio and looked around some more from where he stood.
Fifteen minutes later, Barry Williams returned. "Okay, quickly before we end up accosted by one who needs the next Chronicles of Narnia book," he joked, waving Nick into the office.
Nick took a seat in a chair facing the large desk, which Barry sat behind. The desk was covered with stacks and stacks of paperwork, a slinky and a rubrix cube lay to one side. Nick handed Barry his portfolio and Barry opened it up, and started looking through the stacks of papers and references. He stopped at Mimi's and studied it.
"So Mimi says here you're working with a little boy at her home," Barry said, lowering his glasses, "Max, is it?"
"Yeah, Max," Nick nodded.
"And how's that going?"
"It's going okay," Nick said, "He's been through a lot, and to cope he hides in a cardboard box and resists talking whenever possible..." Nick smiled, "But since I've been visiting him, he talks a lot more frequently to me, and I've gotten him to forget about the box several times."
"Interesting," Barry mused. He continued flipping through the pages of Nick's portfolio. Finally he looked up. "So you were raised in Mimi's home," Barry said, laying the pages on his desk top. He studied Nick for a long moment, "What was your situation?"
By situation, Nick knew that Barry was asking about how he'd ended up at Mimi's house in the first place.
Nick took a deep breath.
"I was six," he said slowly, "When my father killed my mother."
Barry's eyebrows went up, but he didn't interrupt.
Nick looked at his hands, "Best thing for both of us, really, she was only staying with him because she was afraid to leave. She knew he'd go after her, see. And me... well, I was only six, wasn't I? But I was stupid, you know, I tried to stop him when he got going on her and I ended up in the hospital, too." Nick gnawed his lip a moment, then added, "That's where Mim got me from," he added, "Christmas Eve the year I turned six." He nodded. "And my life changed completely because of her. I wouldn't be here today without Mim."
"Is there a reason she never placed you with a family?" Barry asked carefully.
"I didn't want a family," Nick answered. He shrugged, "Mimi was my family. The other kids at the home were my family. The home was my home, the first and only place that I'd ever felt safe."
Barry nodded. "What do you plan to do when you graduate the higher programs?"
Nick smiled, "This," he answered, waving his arms out, "What I'm doing now. I want to help kids like me whose parents don't know enough to love them." He looked around. "This place is brilliant, Mr. Williams, and I'd like to bring my vision to it, help it to grow. Or else to start my own place one day. My fr--" Here, Nick paused for but a second, but in his head a million things rushed by. He hadn't defined, truly, his relationship with Raine, but somehow, saying friend after the kiss they'd shared felt untrue, so he repaired the word, "My girlfriend is studying to become a child psychologist as well," he said, "I'm hoping that we might work together in the future." Even as he said the words, he knew it would happen.
A feeling of settlement came over him.
Barry smiled. "That's noble indeed," he commended. He lifted the sheaf of papers once more and studied them. "Nick," he said after a long moment, lowering them once more, "It says here that you are unsure what became of your father?"
Nick nodded.
"He wasn't imprisoned?"
"There wasn't enough evidence to convict him, really, the way it all happened... it was the word of a six year old boy against a thirty-one year old man's." Nick smiled sadly, "Surely you know how the justice system works, sir."
Barry nodded, "All too well."
After a long and winding conversation, Barry finally stood up and extended his hand to Nick. "It was very nice to meet you, I say once again," Barry said, "And I'll give you a call this week to let you know about the position, okay?"
Nick nodded. "Sir," he said, shaking Barry's hand, "I just want you to know that --" he paused, making sure the words would come out correctly, "You won't find another candidate for this internship who wants it more than I do."
Barry smiled, "I can see the passion in your eyes for the job, Nick, and hear it in your voice. There is no need to tell me such things." He winked. "Now off you go, and I'll be in touch this week."
"Thank you sir."
Nick let himself out of the office and back down the hall, past Anne, who smiled and waved with the tips of her fingers as he passed, and returned to his car, his palms sweating. He climbed in and rested his head against the steering wheel, lips moving in a silent prayer to God to please let him get the internship.
