Schifflebein's Folly

CHAPTER 4: THE BID

Night was backing away from the eastern horizon as dawn crept forward to take its place. Lloyd slept sprawled across his futon, untroubled by worries, insecurities, or dreams.

An unending shriek split the silence. A startled Lloyd rolled off his futon and under his desk. He jerked upright, banged his head on the desk, and sank back to the floor with a groan.

The shrieking continued.

"I'm coming!" Lloyd shouted.

The shrieking stopped.

"Thank you!" Lloyd shouted.

A while later Lloyd entered his kitchen wearing a sport coat, dress shirt, and jeans. His tie hung loose around his shoulders. He carried his Parks and Recreation Department uniform on a hanger. He draped the uniform over the back of a chair and reached for the teapot, growling as he poured tea into a waiting mug, "Who died and made you the alarm clock?"

He sipped from the mug and grimaced. "And whatever happened to coffee, huh? Is that too much to ask? A little caffeine? Huh? No? No. No, you have nothing to say for yourself now. You're waiting until there's somebody else here so you—for reasons known only to yourself—can convince the world that I'm insane! Well, it won't work, because I'm not crazy, y'hear me? I, Lloyd Alexander Schifflebein, am not insane."

"You're late," said Teapot.

Lloyd looked at his watch. "Okay, I'm late. But I'm not insane." He gulped down the last of his tea and grabbed his uniform and a large manila envelope that waited on the table.

"You're not insane, but you're conversing with crockery," said Teapot.

"I'm leaving," said Lloyd. He dashed from the room and out of the house.

Teapot smiled.

In the courtyard of the Government Center building, a prominent outdoor wall clock read 9:01 a.m. as Orkney, now a bicycle messenger, rolled to a stop and parked his bike beneath the clock.

Lloyd hurried past, carrying his uniform and the large manila envelope. He noticed the messenger, who was also holding a large manila envelope. Lloyd opened the door to the building and held the door for the messenger to enter.

"No, thanks, guv," said Orkney the messenger. "Oy've gotta stick to me shedjool."

Lloyd nodded and entered the building.

Orkney settled back against the wall beneath the clock and waited.

Moments later Lloyd entered the Parks and Recreation Department administrative office and placed his uniform on the counter. A ParRecDep clerk took the uniform and placed it behind the counter. Lloyd produced a business size white envelope from his sport coat pocket and handed it to the clerk with flourish.

"So, this is it," the clerk said with a smile.

"This is it," said Lloyd, whose answering smile was half excitement, half joy, and half fear. (He had to develop a third half in order to be beside himself, he was that nervous.)

"Not too late to take it back," said the clerk, holding the envelope teasingly before Lloyd's face. "Until I open this and date-stamp it, you haven't officially resigned."

Lloyd swallowed and squared his shoulders. "Open it. Because in just a minute I'm delivering my sealed bid to the County Commissioners, and I can't be on your payroll when that happens. I'd be guilty of conflict-of-interest."

A familiar voice from behind him said, "Bids ain't due 'til noon. You still got time for the party."

Lloyd turned around to find his friend, Remmy, standing behind him alongside a dozen other ParRecDep employees. "What party?"

"The big going-away party in the conference room starting right now!" Remmy announced. "C'mon y'all!"

With cheering and laughter, the employees propelled Lloyd with them toward one of the office conference rooms.

Remmy slapped Lloyd on the back and shouted over the noisy crowd, "First party we've had in years that Schifflebein didn't bake the cake!"

Later, when the party was winding down and only a few remaining employees mingled around a table littered with empty coffee cups and half-eaten sheet cake, Lloyd looked at his watch. He gathered up his manila envelope and discarded sport coat and exited as quickly as he could—shaking hands and waving to friends as he went.

A few minutes later Lloyd handed his manila envelope across the counter into a County Commission clerk's hands. The clerk flattened a corner of the envelope and slid it through the stamping slot of a clock on the counter. The machine ka-chunked, and the corner of the envelope read "Received @ 11:45 a.m.," followed by the date.

Lloyd smiled, thanked the clerk, and left.

As he exited the Government Center building, he passed Orkney the messenger, still lounging beneath the courtyard clock. Orkney stood up straight, hefted his manila envelope, and watched the clock. When the clock changed from 11:59 to 12:00, Orkney opened the door and entered the building.

Momentarily, Orkney handed his manila envelope across the County Commission office counter into the County Commission clerk's hands. The clerk flattened a corner of the envelope and slid it through the stamping slot of a clock on the counter. Ka-chunk! The corner of the envelope read "Received @ 12:05 p.m.," followed by the date.

Orkney smiled, thanked the clerk, and left.

Upon his return from submitting his bid to the County Commission, Lloyd entered his home carrying his sport coat and untying his tie. He strode directly to the kitchen, where he laid coat and tie on the table and lifted the teapot from the stove. He carried it with him as he exited the room.

Lloyd stepped into the back yard, opened one of the large trashcans there, and dropped the teapot into the can with a crash. He replaced the lid on the trashcan, made certain it was snugly secured, and returned to the house.