Minda 10

(Meanwhile, back at the prison)
I don't like the smart ass look on the clerk, knowing look saying I'm about to be the pigeon. Wiping her smirk, "Countess Dreckula (staff nickname for Warden) will see you in a few minutes."
As I wait, I review recent events. For the life of me, I cannot recall anything remotely resembling trouble.
Warden affably waves me to a chair, "so good of you to make time in your busy schedule for me." (Said with a straight face, go figure.)
Uneasy smile, "when you are in my position Minda, you become an expert at improv. Nothing ever works worth a crap, always gotta patch up, make do."
The sick feeling in my stomach tells me exactly where she's headed.
"Now, to clarify, I'm not blaming you. It just so happened the nervous breakdown was while you were in her office. Now you and I both know some of the crime motivations are quite shocking. Which is where you were at the time. And you and I both know she had unresolved problems out there in the so called real world."
I grooan inwardly, here it comes.
"Now Minda, imagine my surprise to discover in your file you were a counsellor out in the so called real world."
I hasten to protest, "not that sort ma'am. Say 80% marital and 20% debt counselling, they are related in most cases."
Dry reply, "and by sheer coincidence, none of our inmates experience either marital or consumer debt woes, not now anyway."
We both laugh.
She leans forward, over earnest tone, "now listen Minda, as far as the federal prison system is concerned this is the absolute back of beyond. Nobody but nobody will touch the job on a replacement basis."
"Is that due to location or the unique clientele, ma'am?"
She sighs, "sad to say, both. You can't receive a salary, but can donate after tax earnings to any charity of your choice. Think of the opportunity, to do what you feel is important in the world."
"Aren't we missing one important factor, ma'am? How much confidence would the inmates have in humble moi?"
Laugh, "ok, I take that as a challenge. I'm declaring a secret ballot vote. If 2/3 or more support you, you do the job, end of story."
I grooooan inwardly, but what exactly can you do?
Nancy is on DRO. Flopping in a chair near her, I pour out my tale of woe.
She shrugs, "now how in the name of Hell would anyone accept advice from that nutcase Ms Birnbaum? You on the other hand, they respect bigtime."
"I sense an 'and' in that."
"And a deputation of inmates has trekked to Mount Olympus, suggesting to Capt Bligh the very idea." Laugh, "come on now, do you honestly believe our fearless Warden is capable of any original thought, of dreaming up this all on her own?"
We both laugh.

(Meanwhile, back at Aunt Naomi's)
Rachel tries to sound overly casual (and fails), "so, you think you are the only one stuck in the merde?"
I raise an eyebrow.
Bitter tone, "I suppose you wonder where my father is. Took the same easy exit yours did, mixing booze with pills. Left Mum and me to face all the crap."
"What crap?"
Incredulous look, "you don't know? I know for a fact your Aunt does, that dirty look she gave me."
"Let's just say she and I have a problematic relationship, neither is into sharing much depth."
"He ah well that is VLT (Video Lottery Terminal) addiction. Bad enough his business flushed down the drain. He was stupid enough to drain the entire reroofing fund for the synagogue."
I groan aloud, "not as serious as my problem, but every darn bit as unforgivable. If you and I live to 80, neither of us are gonna live this down."
"So, that makes us friends. Now you understand why my Mum was ok with me hanging out with you."