Red Tape (2 page)

Chapter 2

June 20
th
was the first official day of summer and also my first day back at work. Thanks to the laws in New Jersey, I was able to take an extended leave for disability in order to care for a new baby. The morning was hectic. This was my first time trying to wake up to feed and change the baby, in addition to getting myself together while she screamed her head off. I loaded Mandy into the car along with a hundred baby items and headed to my parents’ house. My parents had agreed to provide day care for Mandy, which was convenient for me because they only lived a few minutes away from my office.

The job as municipal clerk could best be described as a jack-of-all-trades. It was especially true in a smaller town, where
there weren’t enough employees to handle all the positions that are required in local government. According to the New Jersey Legislature, the municipal clerk was the chief custodian of records, the chief elections official, the secretary to the governing body and the chief registrar of voters. Without having our own health, human resources, and purchasing departments, I was also in charge of vital statistics, personnel issues, budget basics, and so many other things, it would take me years to explain it all. Three years, to be exact. That’s how long it took me to get through the classes at Rutgers University to obtain the prestigious Registered Municipal Clerk certification. The state exam was the worst test I ever took in my life, inclusive of all my college finals. I personally thought it was equivalent to the bar exam. It wasn’t the easiest job in the world, but I loved it. I had always been a hard worker and I liked that the office was so hectic all the time. It made the day go by quickly.

Mom and Dad were waiting on the porch. They were so excited to be spending the day with their only grandchild. Dad was in his wife-beater tank top and long khaki shorts. His beer belly protruded from his thin frame. He was mostly bald, but still had some blonde hair left on the sides. Mom was in a blue and white striped short-sleeved shirt and white capri pants. She still looked young for a woman in her fifties. She kept her hair dyed golden blonde and cut into a bob that was longer in the front. She loved to walk, which contributed to her slender body and lean legs.

“Now, don’t you worry,” Mom said in her caring voice. “Mandy will be fine.” My dad also told me not to worry and wished me good luck at work. “I’m making my famous fish sauce for dinner tonight,” Dad said. He did make great fish sauce—loaded with clams, scallops, and shrimp on top of angel hair pasta. Yum.

I unloaded the mounds of Mandy’s necessities into my parents’ living room. I kissed my daughter’s sweet little chubby cheeks and said, “Mommy loves Mandy” before I left. I wanted to cry when I turned to leave the house. That was my first full day leaving her. I was sad, but not worried. I knew my parents would take good care of her. I was just missing her already.

I pulled up into the parking lot at the municipal building, got out of my car, straightened up my black pencil skirt and white blouse, and then headed into the main doors.

The municipal complex was a block away from the ocean and contained the municipal building, the police station, the senior center, and the lifeguard headquarters. The firehouse was a half mile away on Main Street. There
were only a handful of full-time employees like me. The rest of our employees were all part-time, temp workers, or contractors, including the mayor and council members.

I went through the lobby and into the clerk’s office. The office was the same as I had left it six months ago. The clerk’s office sat to the left of the main doors. For safety, we had a large open window with a counter facing the lobby of the building, which allowed us to wait on the public without them being inside our space. In reality, it wasn’t all that safe; someone could jump right through the window. I supposed it provided a barrier so that people couldn’t easily reach in, grab the money, and run. The staff entrance for the office was off to the right side of the window. My personal office was situated in the rear of the inside of the clerk’s office, to the right of the staff entrance.

“Authorized Personnel Only – Do Not Enter”
was written on a green sign attached to the staff entrance. Bonnie always joked that the sign was reversed and that it was really telling us authorized personnel not to enter and therefore, we shouldn’t have to come to work.

When I made my grand entrance, Bonnie hugged me and said, “I’m happy you’re back. Now you get to deal with Mr. Trigger’s five-hour weekly visits.” She laughed, then asked me to join her in the kitchen for a cup of coffee. When we walked in, I was greeted by the rest of my coworkers, who threw me a little welcome back party. Even the mayor was there, which was surprising to me because she didn’t normally attend our staff events. Everyone congratulated me and bought baby presents. Bonnie whispered in my ear, “Don’t eat the brownies.”

“Why not?” I asked her.

“Rodney made them.”

Enough said. I wouldn’t be eating the brownies. Rodney Wilson was our town administrator. He was fifty-eight years old and had medical issues that no one would talk about because it upset him so much. Rodney missed a lot of work due to his illness. I knew he had a prescription for medical marijuana. I wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be indulging in it during work hours, but I suspected he sometimes ate the brownies, so to speak. On his bad days, his hands would shake and he was grumpy. On a good day, his eyes were red; he was calm, cheery, and had the munchies. He was a nice fellow nonetheless and I appreciated his baking effort for me, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Bonnie had previously told me the story of the first time Rodney brought in brownies. Everyone ate them, not knowing any better. Needless to say, work was not getting done! It appeared a resident was not pleased with the giggling brood of municipal employees and called the mayor to complain. The mayor was tied up at her full-time job, so she sent the town attorney to find out what was going on in Town Hall that day.

The tax collector was busy satisfying her munchies. The chief financial officer was in a state of paranoia. Rodney was continually placing drops in his red eyes. Bonnie was talking non-stop. They were all in the clerk’s office together. When Mr. Betts arrived and found them, he said, “What on God’s good Earth is going on around here? It’s like all y’all did today was take your happy pills.”

With his southern drawl, bolero tie, and cowboy hat, they couldn’t control their giggles.

“C’mon now, y’all, stop this circus and get back to work,” Betts told them.

They all looked at each other and burst into laughter.

“Gosh dang it, will someone please tell me what is going on?” Betts pleaded. “Y’all are making me madder than an oinker at the pig wrestlin’ contest.”

I believe Rodney fell right off his chair after that comment. Bonnie peed herself a little.

Now, Betts is a smart man, so he eventually figured out exactly what had happened. They were all put on probation for three months. They didn’t get fired because it wasn’t one hundred percent their faults for being high on the job. They were told if there was ever another “accident” like this one, they’d all be collecting unemployment. Since then, they couldn’t be sure whether or not Rodney was adding his secret ingredient to his baking, so no one would take the risk and indulge in his goodies. I never did understand why Rodney got off the hook. I often wondered if the story was even true or if Bonnie was just yanking my chain.

After an hour of opening presents and talking about the baby, I decided it was time to get back into the swing of work. There was a council meeting next week and the agenda deadline was in two days. It was always crazy on agenda weeks. I draft the majority of the items that the council members will be voting on, including resolutions and ordinances, then I coordinate all the paperwork for Bonnie to scan.

The council went green and approved the purchase of iPads in the budget this year, which made our lives a little easier. Instead of having to use reams of paper to copy agenda items, we could email materials to those who needed them.

As I turned to leave the party, I heard Rodney say, “Chelsey, aren’t you going to have one of my brownies? I’m a good baker, you know.”

“Oh sure, Rod. I’m stuffed from the bagels and muffins, but I’ll take one back to my desk for later,” I told him. Then I poured myself a glass of orange juice, wrapped a brownie in a napkin, and brought them with me. When the coast was clear, I pitched the brownie into the wastebasket.

I was in the middle of pulling a file out for an agenda item when the fire alarm went off. Bonnie had stepped out of the office so I grabbed both of our purses and hustled out of the building. I realized that no one else seemed to be moving. Quite a few minutes later, other employees strolled leisurely out of the door. I walked over to Bonnie and handed her purse to her.

“I hope this isn’t a real fire; everyone would have died from smoke inhalation,” I said to her.

“Ever since we had the fire in the courtroom, these darn alarms go off at least once a week. The alarms didn’t work when we needed them and now they work when we don’t need them.”

The fire engine pulled into our lot and several calendar-worthy firemen jumped off and entered the municipal building.

“The advantage to the false alarms is the eye candy,” Bonnie said.

“You’re married,” I responded.

“I may be married, but I’m not dead. I can look. They give me something to fantasize about when I’m in bed with my husband.”

“Geez, Bonnie! Too much information.”

“Just you wait until you’ve been married as long as I have. You need to come up with fresh ideas to keep the romance alive.”

“No chance of me getting married any time soon.”

“Don’t talk like that. You’ll meet someone.”

“I don’t need someone right now.”

The firemen gave the all-clear for us to go back to work. When I got into my office, I glanced up and saw someone approaching the counter.

“Did I miss the party?”

Officer Michael Williams was six feet, six inches tall and had movie-star good looks. He was probably a couple of years younger than I was. He had dark hair, a tan complexion, and what I imagined to be the perfectly chiseled body with rock hard abs under that uniform. The uniform made him seem all the sexier to me. His eyes were a deep rich blue and mesmerizing. He was fairly new to the police force, having started working there only a couple of months after I had started. He seemed like he came from a nice family. I had met his parents on his first day of
work, when he was sworn in. It was my job to administer the Oaths of Office to the new hires. I sometimes liked my job very much!

“No, Mike, there’s still some food in the kitchen. Help yourself,” I told him.

“Welcome back, Chelsey.”

I melted. He was so handsome. I watched him as he turned toward the break room. I saw Mayor O’Donnell grab his arm and start talking to him on the way in. I imagined it was smart to be chummy with the mayor. Job security.

“I saw that!” Bonnie said with a smirk.

“Saw what?”

“The way you looked at him.”

“How did I look at him?”

“Like you want him for lunch.”

“You shouldn’t talk; I needed to find a tissue to wipe the drool oozing down your face when those firemen jumped out of the truck.”

“And I admitted to that. I’m not ashamed. You should go to the kitchen and try to talk to him.”

“Oh, geez, Bonnie. I recently had a baby. I was engaged to another man just five months ago. The last thing I need right now is another man in my life. Besides, I’m in bed by eight every night. How would I have time to go on a date?”

“I’d be thrilled to babysit for you. Did you get a load of how big his hands are?” Bonnie asked.

“No, I didn’t look at his hands. What does that have to do with anything?”

“You know…the bigger the hands, the bigger the…”

I cut her off there. I put my fingers in my ears and said, “La la la la, I can’t hear you.”

She laughed. “Stop the act, Ms. Not-So-Prim and Proper. I’m on to you. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t rip off his clothes and have your way with him if you could.”

“Bonnie, I think this is a form of sexual harassment in the work place,” I joked. “Now, get back to work.”

I looked out of the office window and saw Mayor O’Donnell leaving from the kitchen. “Welcome back, Chelsey. We all missed you very much while you were gone.”

“Thanks, Mayor,” I called out. She was so sweet. It was good to be back. I headed back into my office to get caught up with the five hundred plus emails that were sitting in my inbox.

When four thirty came, I felt so tired. I was definitely not back in the swing of things just yet. Regardless of my exhaustion, I was excited to go get my little baby girl. I was also looking forward to Dad’s fish sauce. I locked up the office and said good-bye to Bonnie. Bonnie asked how I felt after my first day back. “Like I could sleep for a week,” I said.

“Well, at least Mr. Triggers didn’t bother you on your fist day.”

“Is he really that bad?” I asked

“Worse!” she replied.

Chapter 3

My first council meeting back to the job was also my first taste of Mr. Triggers. I figured out who he was from the description Bonnie gave me. I think it was his eyes that gave it away. He
did
have crazy eyes. He was one of the first residents to show up that evening.

It was the first time I was back in the courtroom since it had caught fire. It was set up much nicer than before. It was a square room with fifty brand new blue chairs facing a dais. The dais was one step up from the seating area and it was completely redone in oak. There was seating for the mayor, eight council members, and me on the dais. The mayor’s seat was in the middle. My seat was next to the emergency exit. Seeing I was next to the emergency exit made me happy. Mr. Triggers made me feel uneasy. They still hadn’t caught the person who set the room on fire, and I couldn’t help but picture him doing it.

New ocean-colored carpet had been installed and the walls were painted a fresh coat of beige. I think the color blue was picked to have a calming effect, but I didn’t think the color psychologists told anyone that the initial feelings of calm quickly dissipate once a council meeting begins.

Metal detectors surrounded the main courtroom entrance. There was a guard scanning residents as they came into the meeting. I was happy about this too. It provided me a sense of safety.

Everyone took their seats and the meeting began. When the mayor called for public participation, Triggers was the first up to the microphone. After forty-five minutes of rambling about the dunes and the red tape involved with government, Mayor O’Donnell interrupted him, “You’ve been here frequently, taking up hours of everyone’s time. What is your point?”

I suddenly perked up. The mayor hadn’t cut off members of the public who spoke at council meetings in the past. She had usually let them drone on and on.

Triggers turned three shades of red. “I have a right to speak and you have no right to interrupt me. As I was saying…”

The mayor interrupted again. “Mr. Triggers, we have heard this over and over and we have told you that we are not going to install dunes on someone’s private property. This is a council meeting and while it is okay to make a comment, it is not okay to give a dissertation. Unless you are going to say something new, this topic is finished.”

Triggers clenched his teeth together. “I am trying to explain the danger that can occur to our homes because there are no dunes protecting my street and you keep throwing your stupid red tape at me to get me to go away. I’m sure if I were a councilman, or one of your political buddies, I’d have those dunes by now. If you don’t install the dunes and we have a flood, our homes will be ruined and you don’t…”

Mayor O’Donnell struck the gavel several times. “Mr. Triggers, we do not use favoritism and I’m insulted at your insinuation. We
have
tried to help you. I personally met with the homeowner, Mr. Bill Bradford, and he does not wish for dunes to be placed on his property. We have had appraisals done on the property and it is too cost prohibitive for the town to condemn the land in order to install the dunes. We have spoken to engineers about a way to place the dunes on public land so as to not block Mr. Bradford’s view. We have investigated the legal aspects of everything. You know this, you have been told this, and you have also been informed that it is our decision that we are not installing dunes at this time. We thank you for your comments, but we are moving on with the meeting.”

Triggers rolled up his papers and pointed them at Mayor O’Donnell. “I am not finished, I will be back, and you will not get rid of me so easily. You have been warned!” Then he stormed out of the room.

The rest of the council meeting was unexciting in comparison. When the meeting was over, I joked to the mayor, “I’m happy I sit near the emergency exit. When Mr. Triggers comes back with a gun and points it at you, I can duck and make a quick getaway.”

Mayor O’Donnell chuckled. “I know, Chelsey, someone has to be the heavy hand. Might as well be me.” I was silently relieved again with knowing that we had metal detectors and a guard at the meetings. When I joked with the mayor, I was only half joking. Triggers seemed scary to me.

I was home by ten thirty that night. Mandy was sound asleep in her crib and my dad was sound asleep in front of the TV. I tiptoed past him in an effort not to wake him, but he heard me anyway.

“Hi. How was the meeting?” he said in a sleepy voice.

“You mean besides the nut job who wants his dunes installed?”

“Oh, he was there?” he asked. “What did he say?”

“I don’t know, he went on and on for forty-five minutes. I tuned it out. The mayor interrupted him in the middle of it. He was mad about that. Nothing else really happened. Was Mandy good?”

“Yeah, she was good. She fell asleep around seven.”

“Oh good, I’m heading to bed. Are you going to sleep on the couch or go home? I’m exhausted from working all week. I’m not used to it since I was home for so long on maternity leave.”

“I’m going to head home. My back can’t take sleeping on the couch these days. I am getting old, you know. I’ll let myself out and lock up for you.”

I hardly considered my father old at fifty-nine years of age. He retired seven years ago by taking a buyout from his job at the Turnpike Authority, which left him bored and feeling older than he was.

“Thanks for babysitting. I love you, Dad,” I said as I went to my room and drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Morning came much too early for me. Mandy woke me up at five a.m. regularly. She was more reliable than an alarm clock. I rolled out of bed, threw my shoulder-length hair into a ponytail holder, and went to Mandy’s room. I changed her diaper, got her dressed, and made her a bottle. I loved her curly blonde hair. My hair was poker straight, so I was not sure where she got her curls from. It was even curlier in the humidity that we were having. I enjoyed this little quiet time with her, when she was cuddled in my arms, taking her morning feeding. She liked to play with my hair and she’d push my head to one side to grab hold of my ponytail. The past few evenings after work were incredibly hectic when I had picked her up, got her home, fed her, made dinner for myself, ate, gave Mandy a bath, changed her, and got her to bed. It felt like a whirlwind. I missed the laid-back days when I wasn’t working. A part-time job would have given me my much-needed adult interaction time and a good amount of time to spend with my
daughter. Oh well, I could stop dreaming, because part-time work was out of the question for me financially and due to the fact that I needed health benefits.

After I got ready for work, I loaded Mandy into the car and off we went to my parents’ house. The causeway was unusually backed up. “Oh, that’s right, I had forgotten it was the closest weekend to Fourth of July and there would be a lot of travelers this morning,” I told Mandy, even though she couldn’t understand me. I raced down Main Street, turned onto Thirteenth, and pulled into their driveway. My father was standing at the porch door. “You’re late,” he said.

“I know, I know. Her food is all in the bag, I have to run,” I said as I handed Mandy to him, then hurried back to the driveway. “Mommy loves Mandy, bye, bye.” I waved as I got back in the car and sped over to work. I grabbed my keys and my purse and hustled into the building, to be greeted by Mr. Triggers waiting anxiously at the clerk’s office window. He was holding a large rock that was bigger than a tennis ball, but smaller than a basketball.

Oh, what a great way to start the day,
I thought.
And what is with the rock?
I had forgotten that Bonnie had a scheduled vacation day (aka shopping day). It was the morning after the meeting, I was running late, I had a ton of work to get done, and then I had to deal with
him
. On top of that, he smelled like he spent the night in a trashcan.

“Good morning,” I said, trying to hold my breath so his odor didn’t penetrate my nostrils. I wrestled with my keys to get the office door opened as quickly as possible.

Mr. Triggers frowned. “You’re late,” he proclaimed.

“Traffic,” I said. “How can I help you?”

“Are you as stupid as the other girl who works here?”

I was taken aback by his rudeness and I found myself at a loss for words.

“I want to see copies of all resolutions adopted regarding the beach from nineteen sixty to present.”

“All of them?” I asked.

“Yes, all of them! There should only be a few pages.”

I asked him to fill out a Request for Records form and I explained that there were thousands of them; not a few pages. I told him that I would have to order most of them from archives.

“Ah, what do you know? More red tape—I have to fill out a form. How long will they take to get here? I want to see them now.”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. It won’t be today.”

I explained that they were in storage at an off-site facility. He glared at me. “This is a classic example of government red tape and how stupid you government employees are! I want them now, I have a right to see them, and I will wait here at this window until they get here.”

Okay, now what? I couldn’t possibly get the company we used for storage to deliver them same day.

“Perhaps if you tell me what you are looking for, I might be able to locate the particular resolution you need; all resolutions about the beach is a broad topic.”

“Your feeble little mind wouldn’t be able to understand what I’m looking for,” Mr. Triggers announced.

“Well, I can’t get them today. Would you be able to come back on Monday?” I asked. His insults were starting to bother me.

“I don’t want them on Monday. I have free time today, and I want them today. This is just more of your red tape and I’m not going to fall for it.”

I did a mental eye roll and tried again. “The company we use does not have same-day service. I will send the request for the boxes over right away and I will have them on the next business day, which is Monday. Can you come here on Monday or another day next week?”

Triggers continued to be argumentative. I told him I would get him the most recent documents I had referencing the beach and I started to walk away. He yelled at me and slammed down his rock with a loud bang. He pointed, saying, “I’m not done speaking yet!”

The slamming of the rock alarmed me. I wondered if he would pick it up and throw it at me. I entertained the idea of calling the police. I stopped in my tracks and waited for him to speak. He didn’t say anything. I waited two more minutes, which seemed more like a half hour. Then I said, “I will be right back.”

I returned with seven file folders containing various resolutions and reports about the beach and beach erosion and handed them to him over the counter, telling him to call me if he needed something copied. I left the window and proceeded to my personal office.

I put my purse in my desk drawer, took a deep breath, and counted to ten. I had to calm myself down, I was so aggravated. After fifteen minutes, I peeked out of my office to find Mr. Triggers intently perusing the files. His dark eyes gave me the chills. I didn’t like this man and I didn’t trust him. Visions of him setting the building on fire with me inside turned my active imagination into a small panic attack. I decided to quietly call the police non-emergency number.

“Dispatcher Twenty-four.”

“This is Chelsey Alton, the Town Clerk,” I whispered. “I don’t want to be an alarmist, but Mr. Triggers is at my window, holding a large rock, going through records. I’m here in my office alone. I don’t think he will pull any stunts, but I’m feeling a little nervous. Do you think you could send someone over to periodically check on me?”

“Ten-four, copy that,” the dispatcher said before he hung up.

I waited for another ten minutes, then peered out toward the window again. He was still there. I felt like I couldn’t get any work done because I had to keep my eye on him. I decided to bring my supplies and papers out to Bonnie’s desk so I could keep watch.

I saw a police officer walk by the window and look over Triggers’ shoulder. I waved. He gave me a thumbs up with the look of a question mark on his face. I gave him a nod to let him know I was okay.

Thirty more minutes passed. Triggers finally looked calm. Perhaps, since he saw the volume of records I handed him, he finally believed that I couldn’t store all those documents from nineteen sixty in this small office. I chuckled at the thought of how clueless he was—he actually thought there were only going to be few pages. Another person who didn’t have any idea about how much work we do around here.

He remained at the counter for about five hours straight. A different police officer took a walk through the building every thirty minutes or so. This made me feel more at ease. I’m not exactly sure when Triggers finally left, sometime around two fifteen in the afternoon. After all that time, he didn’t take copies of anything, but I saw him periodically making notes for himself. I didn’t know if he was coming back for the day or what was going on. I ordered the other files from storage and went about my day.

When four thirty rolled around, I realized that Triggers had not returned and I was thankful for that. My stomach was growling. I hadn’t been able to leave the office for lunch since that nut was at my office window for such a long time. My dad was making pot roast. The thought of a yummy meal and a nice weekend waiting was enough to make me bounce out of the door as fast as I could.