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1
Jason
Jason Henry straightened some papers, loving the crisp sound the thick stack made as it shifted on the edge of his desk. If only people were as safe to touch.
A knock sounded on Jason’s office door.
“Enter,” he said, his voice only quavering a pinch.
Brandy opened the door and peeked in. She was a spunky, middle-aged woman who had been one of Jason’s only friends since he’d taken the job. She was also one of the few in the office who knew about his special circumstances.
“Hey, Jason. I see you’re in hiding today.”
“A bit.”
He worked as assistant office manager at one of the busiest medical clinics in Nashville.
Most of his job could be accomplished in the quiet stillness of his office: pushing paperwork, managing the financial accounts, and arranging appointments for his boss, Rueben. Even though the office staff didn’t know it, Rueben was also his grandpa and the only blood relative who seemed to care about him.
Brandy tapped on the side of the door, getting his attention again. She nodded toward the stack on his desk. “How are the applicants this time around?”
“Not bad, but there’s a lot of them. I’m just glad that Rueben’s in charge of the actual interviewing and I can make the appointments over the phone.” Brandy smiled, and he returned the gesture. Smiles and pleasantries were something he was capable of.
“Rumor around the office is that Rueben’s retiring soon. Chances are you’ll be taking on that responsibility soon, so don’t get too comfortable.”
He stilled. This was news to him. Sure, Rueben was getting older and he’d run the medical office for over twenty years, but he was still young.
“Just wanted to give you a heads up since I know you’ll be a shoo-in for the position.”
Did she know something he didn’t? He hadn’t heard the rumor, but he also didn’t hang around the other staff to hear such gossip. He straightened his shoulders. There was no way his grandpa wouldn’t clue him in.
“Anyway, are those files organized and ready for Rueben?”
Somewhat dazed from the rumor, he swallowed down the nervous knot that had lodged in his throat and looked at the stack of potential employees he might soon see around the office. With the rise of patients needing physicians, the office needed extra help, but he absolutely hated the hiring process.
“Yes, and just in time.” He laid a few files on top of the stack he’d straightened. “These are the applicants whose interviews are set up for tomorrow. I placed them in sequential order and added a green sticky note at the top with each appointment time.”
She beamed at him. “Organized as always.”
“The application window is still open through tomorrow, so if any more come in, set up an appointment for them whenever Rueben has spare time.”
She nodded once. “Will do. Thanks.”
He relaxed his shoulders when the office door shut again.
It was a necessary evil, dealing with people. No, evil was too strong a word. He liked people. He just didn’t like touching them, and since it was nearly impossible to live and work in a society that thrived on touching others, Jason kept to himself.
After working at Glen Clinic for the last seven years, he’d gotten into a groove and was fairly comfortable with his routine. Since it was the biggest medical office in Nashville, with over twenty doctors of different specialties, the clinic was always popping with crowds. Occasionally, he ran into a crowd on the main floor, but whenever possible, he used staff-only entrances that led to his office on the fifth level. It was only when flu season hit or when new hires came around that life got... interesting. He had explained to those closest to him about his neurological condition, but he hated sharing his personal life with anyone he wasn’t close to.
Instead, Jason stayed in his little office in the corner of the building. Occasionally, he had to coordinate with others, but he’d gotten things down to a T, and Rueben understood his inability to connect.
He glanced at the time and sighed. Nearly quitting time. It would have been great if his work responsibilities included staying holed up in his office all day, but unfortunately, he’d learned quickly that only half of his job could be accomplished from his desk.
Jason quickly grabbed the handle and pushed the door open, then balled his fists by his sides. His mom never allowed him to be homeschooled, and instead of psychological treatment or calming medications they couldn’t afford, she’d taught him techniques he could use to get through a moment, get through a day, even.
“Ball your fists,” his mother used to say. “Focus on the tension in your hands.” Balling his fists proved to be the most helpful in a crowd.
As he did every other day, he made his rounds. Every receptionist managed a number of doctors’ schedules, appointments, and prescription requests.
