“He don’t know me. When has he ever had to make a choice he didn’t want?”
Ah-ha. Now we’re getting somewhere. “That’s probably true.” I hate to distance John from this conversation, but I need to find common ground to bring Travis in the rest of the way. “You and I both know life is full of shitty choices.”
It works and Travis sits up in his chair actively engaged in the conversation. “That’s what we do. Right, Miss C.? Make the shitty choices. Because as soon as you think you’re getting ahead in the game, something screws it up.”
“So what happened to make it so you can’t play soccer anymore?”
“It doesn’t matter. Nothing you can do about it.”
I pushed too hard and Travis retreats. His resistance is from his belief I can’t help him…which I probably can’t. It’s one of those sucky facts of life, but there’s only so much I can do from the comforts of my office at the center.
But I also worry he’s gotten himself involved in something far over his head. Drugs or other gang activity. If that’s the case, none of us will leave this room until we figure out a solution.
“I can’t believe you doubt my abilities, Travis.”
“This is too big even for you, Miss C. The next two days you’re going to lose a lot of kids from the center.”
“Yeah? Why’s that?” Why are teenagers so damn frustrating? Can’t they tell a story like a regular person?
“Half the kids here have parents working for Del Fray. With them closing we’re screwed.”
“Del Fray isn’t closing.” Surely Grant would have mentioned that fact last night. “Where’d you hear that?”
“Shit, Miss C. my dad works the graveyard shift. Came home talking about it. They made a huge announcement this morning.”
“Who made a huge announcement?”
“The managers and shit. Everyone’s gonna find out by tomorrow.”
My head swirls for a few seconds and I stare blankly at the little dents in the wall. I’m torn between finding words to comfort Travis and telling myself it can’t be true.
There’s no way Grant would close a factory he just bought.
A factory he knows provides jobs in this area.
A factory we talked about last night without any mention of him closing.
Fortunately, John notices I’m struggling and picks up the conversation for me. “Why does that mean you have to leave the soccer program?”
Unfortunately, John doesn’t understand the situation these kids find themselves in.
“Because my dad is losing his job. Who’s gonna feed us?” Travis explains in a salty way only teenagers pull off. “I need to get a job. I can’t let my siblings starve.”
My heart breaks for the pissed off teenager seated in front of me. Because he’s right. He probably will need to get a job. While many teenagers work to earn their own money, Travis won’t be saving up for a new pair of shoes or music downloads. He’ll work to feed a family of five.
It happens all the time. Kids drop out of school to get jobs. They run errands for their local drug dealer before they too are selling full time. Girls get married much too young. The older kids in a family will do what they must to provide for their younger siblings by any means possible.
“The city has many great resources to help your dad find a new job, Travis.” I try to calm the situation and make him feel better, but even I realize the odds aren’t good right now.
“My dad has worked for Del Fray since he turned seventeen. He doesn’t know anything else.” He wraps his arms around his chest and his words prove how smart this young man is. “Our place is rent controlled. We’ll never find a new one and we can’t afford to live anywhere else.”
These are the times when I hate this fucking job. There isn’t a set of words to ease his fears. Everything Travis is worried about is a legitimate concern. His dad is a good man, but he doesn’t have a college education or many marketable skills. If the plant is closed, finding a new position at a similar pay rate would be almost impossible in the city. He’s raising four kids on his own in a city that often does its best to cater to the rich. They sweep everyone else under the rug and act like we’re the city with no problems.
Still, it’s my job to get Travis through this. The best I can anyway. “Right now the important thing is to stay calm. Remember we don’t make rational decisions when we’re emotional.”
“I’m not emotional,” he cuts me off. “But I’m gonna do what I gotta do to help my family.”
“Of course you are, Travis. No one in this room will tell you otherwise.”
