I had no idea what the correct response to any of this was. Under his intense gaze, however, the chills left and the sweating returned. My eyes darted from his and focused again on the nearly worn-out toes of his shoes.
He continued to look at me. It was all I could do not to stand up and leave the room. If my legs would’ve obliged, I’m sure I would have. He didn’t have a murderer vibe, but the intensity of his stare began to make my skin crawl.
Apparently, he’d followed my gaze, because he spoke abruptly, causing me to jump once again. “If you choose to work here, you’ll find all the toes of your shoes and the knees of your jeans wear out within a couple months. Just one of the consequences of the job.”
Silence returned. If he thought this interview was a quick one, I was glad I hadn’t come on a day when he didn’t feel the pressure of other tasks weighing on him.
Just when I thought he’d fallen into a trance, he spoke again, this time with intent. “Brooke, I must say, I am not really sure what to do here. You seem like avery nice and likeable young man….” He cocked his head at me. “How old are you, son?”
“Twenty-four.”
He nodded. “Of course, I don’t expect a lot of experience, not with the pay we can offer. However, I am not sure if this is the kind of job you want.” He took a moment and closed his eyes once again, then plunged ahead. “I’m sure some of these questions may seem strange to you, but they are necessary for this position. I see you have only had work experience in a couple of church youth groups, and you graduated from Colorado Christian University recently.” He stopped again and looked at me.
I waited for some type of question. He continued to look at me. I cleared my throat again. “Well, sir, I wouldn’t really call any of what I have doneworknecessarily. It was all either volunteer or different church internships I needed to complete my degree. As you can see on the résumé, I also spent two years working with a church group in South America. While it was organized by the church, very little time was spent in church. Most of it was helping build schools and homes and such.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. My name is Lester Book. How very rude of me. You may call me Lester.”
“Uh, okay. Thank you, sir.” I wasn’t convinced he was really even listening to me. He was still looking at me intently, but it was a struggle to follow his train of thought.
“Lester. Please. No need to be formal.”
“Okay, no more formal.” I attempted a friendly smile. It probably came off as a constipated grimace.
Lester placed his hands on the arms of his chair and leaned forward slightly. “So, why are you looking for a job here? Why aren’t you at a church?”
“Oh.” I shook my head, trying to clear it. I had not been expecting that question. I guess I should have. Everything on my résumé was about church and other religious organizations. Still, I wasn’t prepared for a question so personal.
“I’m sorry if it seems that I’m prying. Please don’t feel you must answer that if you would rather not.”
“No, no. It’s okay, sir. Sorry, I mean Lester.” I wiped my hands on my thighs, letting out a breath. “Well, I guess the easiest way to explain it is that the type of kids I want to work with won’t really be at churches.”
“You don’t thinkthesetypes of kids would go to church?” He sat back into his chair again.
“No, not like that. Sorry, I guess that came out wrong. I mean that if these types of kids were in church, they probably wouldn’t really be willing to talk about what was going on in their lives. They might be afraid of what people would think.”
He kept his steady gaze on me. “And what type of kids do you think we have here?”
“Kids who have had rough lives. Kids who have messed up because they didn’t know what they should do—who don’t have anyone else to love them.”
He continued to look at me, eyes narrowing in thought.
“I want to really help change people’s lives. Not just through running a youth group, but by affecting their daily lives.”
“And you don’t think you can do that in a church?”
“Of course you can, it’s just that….” I took in a breath and searched the floor, trying to find a way to answer honestly but not give too much away. “I’m just not sure if what I have to offer would be best used in a church. I thought maybe somewhere else….”
“And what do you have to offer?”
“Oh. Well, I have love to offer. I can help them learn right from wrong.” I groaned inwardly. Love? I think I preferred the silent interview tactics; at least then I didn’t sound cheesy. If only I could sink into the floor.
Lester just gazed at me, unmoving. It was obvious we were wasting our time. He’d already decided I wasn’t the person for the job, that I didn’t belong here. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised. If I didn’t feel like I belonged at a church, what made me think anywhere else would be different?
Lester leaned forward again, his huge forearms resting on his knees. “Let’s get practical. I want to make sure you understand what you’re getting yourself into here. This is a residential treatment facility. It’s a small step below a detention center, except we give our residents therapy on a daily basis. There are kids here who are dangerous and will try to hurt you or themselves. There are days I have to restrain four or five of them. Of course, there are also days where there aren’t any restraints.”
I knew the kids would be tough, and I had no idea what being in a restraint would be like, but I knew this wouldn’t be a typical job when I came in. That’s why I had come in.
“Do you think you could handle having to hold a kid on the floor while they are screaming and fighting?”
