Most Thursdays are open mic nights at my son’s brewery, Floodwater Brewing in Shelburne Falls. I go to listen to the talented musicians who perform there. Sometimes I read, which I did last night, in honor of the release the day before of my new book, The Swanson Shuffle.
Besides serving great beer brewed on the premises, Zack has provided a community space and a place for the area’s musical talent. Open mic is an anything-goes-night, with musicians playing singly or in a group for three songs. A few recite poetry they’ve written, one remarkably from memory. Recently, I read from my latest book for middle grade readers, The Twin Jinn and the Alchemy Machine — advising listeners “to channel their 11-year-old selves.”
Last night’s list was long, so it was a two-song night. I sat at the bar, drinking The Last Waltz Vienna Lager while waiting my turn, which was near the bottom of the list. Before I walked from home, I got a call to bring more copies of The Swanson Shuffle. Floodwater is the only place to buy my books other than on Amazon. I give readers a Floodwater discount. Last night, I sold six books, including from my mystery series.
Finally, it was my turn. Yes, that’s me above at Floodwater. I specifically chose a chapter that would give listeners an idea of what this book’s about — a young woman’s experience as a live-in staff member at a psychiatric halfway house in 1974. I had already read the chapter aloud at home, so I knew it would take five minutes, a reasonable amount of time. The challenge here would be the lighting, designed for musicians and not readers, but I made it work.
I started with a little humor, noting Zack thoughtfully named a beer for me, an IPA, called Cyborg Joan — naturally, there is a story that goes with that. I do get a kick out of it when I hear someone say, “give me a Joan.”
Anyway, here is the chapter I read last night called “Dented Cans.” Bia is with Debbie, the disgruntled woman who she will replace at Swanson House.
I follow Debbie to her room, which is at the head of the stairs on the second floor. She explains the large rooms on this floor were broken up when this mansion got turned into an inn after the rich folks lost their money during the Great Depression. A few are large enough to be doubles. More are on the third floor, where the servants used to sleep, but Swanson House stopped letting residents use the rooms there after a recent problem. I’m sleeping in Debbie’s room tonight, and if I get this job, it will be mine. Debbie is off this weekend. So is Paul, the other single staff member, but Ben and Nina are staying.
“The sheets are clean,” Debbie says.
I drop my bag on the bed. Not much else is here, a dresser, an upholstered chair, and a door that likely leads to a closet. The windows don’t have curtains. Paper, an old-style print with stripes and roses, peels from the walls.
“You’ve already packed?” I ask.
“Yeah, I’m outta here in another week. I’m not sure what I’m gonna do next. I’ll be crashing with my folks for now.” She gives me a squinty stare. “Can I give you some advice?” she asks but from her tone of voice I can tell she’s not seeking my permission.
“Sure.”
She shuts the door, then points toward the chair. I sit down. She stays standing.
“You’ll probably get the job. You’re the best one to apply, and I bet you’ll take it if they offer.” She raises a hand before I reply. “If that all happens, my advice is not to get too close to the residents.”
“Too close.”
“You’ll burn out fast if you do. Believe me. It’s okay to care. Just don’t care so much like I did.” Her voice trails off. “You come here thinking they’re the same as us, but they aren’t. They’re dented cans.” She sees me wince. “You know those cans in the supermarket they put on sale ’cause somebody dropped them, and now they have a big dent? The insides are supposed to be good, but no matter what anybody does, that dent’s never coming out. You understand what I’m saying?”
“Maybe.”
“You met Jerry. He seems normal enough. Ask him about his lousy childhood. No one should have to grow up like he did. I sure didn’t. I bet you didn’t either. He dropped out of high school and worked a lot of shitty jobs. Miracle he didn’t get drafted and end up in Vietnam. I guess he moved around too much for anyone to find him. Last job he worked was running rides in a traveling carnival. He got into drugs, and all the old stuff started coming up. He began hearing what people were thinking, and you know nothing good’s gonna come from that. Jerry was yelling at people, and one time he wouldn’t stop the Ferris wheel ’cause he didn’t like what the people riding in it were thinking about him. The wheel was going round and round. People were getting sick and screaming for real. He was fighting off the other carnies trying to stop it. It’s what got him into Alden.”
“Shit.”
“You’re right. Shit. You meet Brian yet? No? Did they tell you he didn’t even go into a hospital? His pushy mother is a friend of one of the doctors at Alden, and she talked him into letting him come here. Brian is a little nervous and unsure of himself. I’d be, too, if I had a bitch of a mother like his. It’s a new one on me.” She waves her hand. “Stanley’s another one with mother problems. He checked himself into Alden after a snake on the TV said he should kill the old lady.” Debbie sits on her bed. She’s a skinny girl with a square jaw so sharp it could cut paper. Her stick legs hang from beneath her flowered mini skirt. “Stanley’s totally harmless. So’s Jim. Lane’s a smart goofball. His folks have bucks. I don’t understand why they let him stay in a dump like this. Then there’s Kevin. You haven’t met him. He’s only a kid. Quiet. You won’t get much out of him.”
“Carole told me about her baby.”
She shrugs.
“We think she had a baby, but we don’t think the doctors are hiding her somewhere. Maybe the baby died. Maybe the state took her away. We really don’t know.” She shakes her head again. “It gets to you after a while. It’s going to happen to Paul if he’s not careful. He’s getting too buddy-buddy with a few of the guys. I see it coming.”
“Thanks for the advice.”
She shakes her head.
“I guess you’ll have to find out the hard way like I did. Somebody got this big idea to set up places like Swanson. They hire untrained people. They claim they’ll do just as good a job as the pros, like we’re supposed to be role models. Some great experiment.” She snorts. “It comes down to this. They’re shutting down the state hospitals and want a place to dump these people. They pump them up with meds and make sure they can work. You met Peg. At least she’s going home to her kids. I’m really happy for her. The rest? God’s honest truth? If they don’t take their meds, they’ll be back in a ward somewhere, except for Brian who’s never been in one. If they do take their meds, they’ll work some shitty job like packing boxes at Delta Millworks and live here at Swanson because it’s a cheap, safe place. Outside of Peg, I’ve seen only two people leave for good in the nine months I’ve been here.”
“Only two?”
“I’m not trying to scare you. Just take it as friendly advice. Don’t expect too much and keep your boundaries. And don’t stay here on your days off. You have a boyfriend? Yeah? Maybe it’ll work out for you here.” She reaches under her bed for a suitcase. “Dinner should be on the table soon. I won’t be staying. And another thing. Don’t believe a damn word that comes out of Angie’s mouth. She’ll brag about being a groupie. She was probably a stripper or maybe a hooker. She’s just found a good place to hide out for a while.” She opens the top drawer of her dresser. “And whatever you do, don’t lend her or anybody money because you’ll never get it back.”
Okay, here’s the link to buy The Swanson Shuffle in Kindle or paperback. And thank you if you do.