Ch. 2: Sunny's Day Job
August 2 | Day
I repositioned, preparing for the next series of Taekwondo moves, but I was distracted by my neighbor's long-legged stride. The lines of his body, cut with gym determination, drew the gaze from his torso-hugging t-shirt to his jeans-clad hips.
Intriguing character, I thought. Unlike everyone else I had met since moving Down South, Jack wasn't friendly, which I sort of liked. The brooding act was a refreshing break from the saccharinely polite script.
Noon sunlight traced his profile, and his faded buzzcut gleamed brown or dirty blond against his dusky wheat complexion. When his expressive sable eyes braved a backwards glance, I noticed his chiseled nose and how his square jaw was covered in a dark stubble that hid a scar above his defined lips.
I saluted, but he averted his gaze. Was he shy? Cute. Given the scar and tattoos, I tried to guess what he was into, but that train of thought was derailed by a child's voice.
"Are you a ninja?" the little one asked.
There was an urchin hiding behind the three-quarter fence of my backyard. A whole ragtag squad of children had stealthily gathered to watch me. I assumed they had come from the surrounding apartments. An awkward smile tugged my lips. I had never really been around kids. My lifestyle hadn't afforded me the opportunity.
Tilting my head, I crouched to their level. "If I were a ninja, do you think I could tell you?"
I rose into the imperious Hakdari Seogi, or Crane position, and several of my onlookers gasped and tried to mimic me. All skinny, wobbly legs, arms, and giggles, a nine- or ten-year-old boy hopped forward with a plastic sword. When he grinned, he showed off missing teeth.
"Can you teach me how to do that?" he begged.
"Me first!" A girl in a rainbow tutu pushed past him. I chuckled at her assertiveness.
"Sisters can't be ninjas," the boy whined.
His pint-sized sibling stuck out her tongue. "Mom says I can be whatever I want to be."
"Tell you what," I interjected before an argument began. "I'll show you kiddos some moves, but only if you promise to keep in mind that the sky's the limit to what you can be, including girl ninjas. Do your parents know where you are? What are your names? Whoa, whoa, whoa! One at a time." I laughed, overwhelmed, as a chorus of names rang out.
With my meditation session a bust, I donned the AngelGuard t-shirt hanging by my patio door and took off for impromptu lessons in the apartment complex park. I figured the children's parents or guardians could easily find them there. Sure enough, minutes into lining up my new "class," adults gathered to see what was going on. Jack appeared at the fringes. I wanted to reconnect with him, but the exuberant children required my attention.
They formed rows between the swing set and monkey bars. Although a playground wasn't the best dojang, mulch cushioned the ground, and wide-canopied oak trees provided abatement from the blazing sun. Before long, a soccer mom showed up with a cooler full of electrolyte drinks, and other parents clustered at park benches and picnic tables to cheer on their kids.
Surrounded by the noise and liveliness, it struck me how isolated my past had been. New Orleans was full of color, with a distinct cultural signature, and hospitality was a defining feature of the city. I felt like I fit in. I felt like I could make it my permanent address. The determining factor would be how well I performed on my probationary period at work, as I had learned yesterday during my official start at AngelGuard.
I flashed back to the air-conditioned corporate building where I had met my mentor. A man of indeterminate age in square spectacles and a smart blue business suit had ushered me from the lobby through an elegant black corridor. "I'm Wallace Edison, your onboarding supervisor," he had explained. "I'll be helping you earn permanent status."
***
"It's an honor, sir." I hurried to keep up with his brisk stroll. He was of medium height and build, with hickory brown skin, older than me–I was certain–but by how much, I couldn't tell.
"I've been poring over your resume, Sunny. You majored in martial arts and took de-escalation training? Impressive," Wallace commended me.
"Thank you, sir." As we passed rows of cubicles on one side, I gaped, awestruck, at the state-of-the-art, glassed-in fitness center on the other.
"You like the look of that gym, eh? AngelGuard staff gains access to in-house private doctors, physical therapists, and mental health care providers, too. Nice amenities. Most of the Guardian applicants I see specialize in behavioral psychology or emergency medicine. What made you pick martial arts?" he asked.
"I like to be in the thick of the action. That's where I shine."
Grinning, Wallace clapped my back. "Long as you remember, the race isn't given to the swift or the strong, but to the one who endures. We get a lot of eager hopefuls, Sunny, but not everybody makes the cut at AngelGuard."
"Respectfully, sir, I'm not everybody," I quipped.
We deviated through the hub of workplace activity. Ringing phones and people scurrying with files were everywhere. Some were dressed in blue suits like Wallace. AngelGuard uniforms, I surmised. It was a fast-paced environment, but lighthearted and filled with familial banter.
"Efficiency hasn't bred out the human touch," I observed.
"No, automatons could never do what we do." My mentor gestured for me to enter a room up ahead. "Countless disasters have been averted by our team, and you may contribute to that number. Ready to select your sixty-day trial assignment? Here's my office."
I stepped through the door, and my eyes rounded. If this was what promotion would get me, I wanted rank. The corner office had walls of windows that afforded a view of the entire city, the great Mississippi River snaking in the distance. A summer sky crowned with white clouds turned the room into a heavenly escape. Rosy sunlight and recessed fixtures illuminated cobalt blue walls, and the floors were gold-veined white marble.
Gold-framed bookshelves made of the same stone ran behind a floating glass desk in the center of the room. There wasn't a computer in sight. Quiet music from the nineteen-forties lent nostalgia, while framed Basquiats and abstract sculptures gave a nod to progress.
Placed before the windows was a milky white tufted sofa with gold buttons. I sat gingerly across from Wallace in one of the matching club chairs. Beneath our feet was an area rug threaded with the same rich, celestial hue as the walls.
He panned the room. "Once your wings are permanent, the advancement track is open to you." It was as if he had read my mind.
"This is...quite lovely," I breathed.
"Isn't it? As Regional Director of Advancement, I'm in charge of selective mentoring, but I'm rarely in-office. I'm still a Guardian, after all, and my wards are the daughters of a Hollywood movie director. Can you believe that? You'd be surprised at what those girls get themselves into," he tittered.
An intern slipped into the room and placed a bottle of chilled mineral water, a pristine glass tumbler, and a saucer of lemon wedges on the table at my elbow. "From the Fountain of Youth," she murmured, disappearing as soundlessly as she had entered.
"From the Fountain of... ?" I raised an eyebrow at my mentor.
"If you subscribe to that sort of thing." Smiling, he passed me three folders from his desk.
"I get to choose any one of these for my probationary case?" I flipped through a file. He parked an ankle on his knee and tapped the air with his wingtip while I scanned photographs, read notes, and skimmed physicals. After a beat, I held up my top pick. "I want this guy."
Wallace squinted humorously. "Ah. You want a challenge."
"What do you mean, a challenge?" I chuckled, perplexed.
"I'm not at liberty to discuss details that aren't within the files, but..." He removed his glasses and rubbed them with a crisp handkerchief, brown eyes steady on mine. "I advise against cutting your teeth on such a complicated case."
I wrinkled my nose. "Sir, my other choices are a pampered trophy wife and a reclusive widower. No offense, but those options seem too easy."
"Ha! Take it from an old pro," he said. "You want your probationary case to be easy. Once you sign that contract, you're stuck with that client for sixty days. Are you sure I can't persuade you to select someone else?"
A staring contest ensued. I had no desire to spend my time in this enchanting city stuck in some stuffy mansion. I wanted to guard someone who was likely to get out and show me things. Taking a casual sip from the bottled water, I held my ground. "As I said, Mr. Edison, I like to be in the thick of the action."
Wallace shook his head in bemused disapproval as he handed over the contract. I used the side table to sign it, dating it the first of August. The black ink signature glimmered opalescent in the light, and he placed a wax seal and stamped it with his personal crest. It was official.
"Welcome to AngelGuard," said my mentor. "Over the next two months, you'll be responsible for ensuring your ward doesn't come to harm or harm anyone else. As for you, no smoking, no drinking, no drugs, and absolutely no sex with clients and/or their affiliates. Reputation matters. Get familiar with the rulebook and bylaws."
He ambled to a bookshelf and pulled two slender tomes down. Rules and bylaws, presumably. "And for logging your progress." He added a blank ledger to the stack. "We like a detailed monthly report."
"Very good, sir." I wondered why he preferred handwritten notes to emailed reports, but then I remembered his lack of a computer. An aversion to technology?
"Your per diem will be direct-deposited to your account, along with your weekly salary," he informed me. "Car service provided upon request. We think you'll be fine with public transit when you're not on duty. It helps to get to know the city. Also, now that we have your assignment hammered out, headquarters can appoint housing for you."
"Excellent, sir."
"Just 'Wallace' will do. Best to dispense with formalities." He smiled as he braced against his desk with his feet crossed at the ankles. "During your probation, we'll become fast friends because you'll need me, Sunny. I'm on-call twenty-four-seven to assist you."
"Thank you, Wallace." I bowed.
"You're very welcome, Sunny. Stand for me, please."
I rose from the chair and stepped forward. Wallace opened the velvet lid of a jewel case occupying a corner of his desk. He lifted out a small lapel pin in the shape of a ruby heart with diamond-studded wings encased in gold. The solemnity with which he attached it to the collar of my shirt made the moment impactful. A giddy surge of anticipation rushed through me.
"These wings should be permanent in no time," he said.
"I won't disappoint you," I promised.
***
Last night, all settled into my apartment, I had studied the books Wallace had given me. I read them forward and backward, so as not to make any unforced errors. Today, shadowing my ward had gone smoothly. Boring, even. I was grateful for evenings and nights off, barring special circumstances, because it seemed the only way I'd get to explore the city.
It likewise meant the gaggle of energetic youngsters jumping around me, begging for more Taekwondo lessons, wasn't cutting into my work.
"Alright, last sequence," I caved to their pressure with an amicable laugh.
We had been at it for almost an hour. With a balanced reverse step, I assumed a defensive stance, surveying my group of students to see that they followed suit. From my periphery, I saw Jack disengage from the audience to help a child who was struggling to master the downward punch. I nodded in appreciation, but the acknowledgment made him about-face.
"Oh, don't abandon me to these rascals," I joked. "I'm outnumbered six-to-one. If they turn on me, I'm done for."
"And, thus, the teacher becomes the student," Jack sallied with a grin.
"You look like you know what you're doing," I said as I flowed into another position.
"I took mixed martial arts throughout middle and high school. I should." He shrugged.
"Wonderful! Get over here and help me out, neighbor. Come on."
Jack released a playful groan as he shuffled to join me. "But if they do turn on you, I'm on their side. I know an advantage when I see one." He winked. My students roared their endorsement over my laughing protests.
From the nearest picnic table, the donor of sports drinks called out, "I think it's amazing what you guys are doing. These kids need supportive adults motivating them like this."
"Right? I hope they keep it up," her friend agreed. "I mean, look at Nevaeh! She is having such a blast, and she's normally shy as a church mouse. I can't believe what I'm seeing."
They returned to gossiping in the shade, but it was too much to ask for everyone to be as enthused about the informal class as they were. I tensed as a disgruntled dad approached the park, arguing with his wife. He stomped to the sidelines and loomed, scowling.
"And I'm already paying an arm and a leg for Liam to be on the little league football team. That kid still can't catch to save his life. Does management know you're riling up these kids to come begging us parents for money for kung fu lessons?" he asked me. "How much is this gonna cost me?"
"Oh, I'm not charging anything." I caught Jack's eye, signaling for him to continue the final lesson, as I broke away to clarify the situation. "I'm Sunny Cezanne. I just moved here. The kids saw me working out and asked me to show them some moves. That's all. No need to get the property manager involved."
"Wait, you're doing this for free?" A woman stretched forward to shake my hand. "I'm Denise, a leasing agent with the complex. I can request injury waivers for you, so don't worry about management. Nothing too fancy but enough to let parents decide to let their children participate at their own risk. Thanks a ton for volunteering to keep the neighborhood kids preoccupied, Sunny!"
I had no plans to make Taekwondo in the park a daily occurrence. I held up a finger to say as much, but a lanky teen lounging against an oak tree shrieked with laughter. "Thanks for volunteering? Y'all should be ashamed for trying to take advantage of this guy. Call it what it is: free babysitting," they retorted. "Go watch your own kids."
"Excuse me, who are you? Do you even live here?" Denise glared. Not bothering to answer, the teenager trudged away. Denise turned to me with a sneer. "God, I wish they would enforce the vagrancy laws. These people will lay up anywhere."
"Nevaeh, come get some hand sanitizer, baby," her friend called out. "You don't know what they touched."
I stared after the obviously homeless teen, concerned at the not-so-veiled rudeness from the tenants. So, beneath the Southern hospitality lurks something else, I realized. This place could use a charitable touch.
"Let's try this." I gathered the rest of the parents for an announcement. "Denise, you get me the waivers, and I'll post a sign-up form on the community board. For any parents interested, I can spare a couple of days out of the week to train your kids, but participation is at your own risk."
I got nods of agreement from the adults and gleeful shouts from the kids behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see the class run for the playsets, done for the day. Jack strolled toward us. Denise's cornflower gaze swept him from head to toe.
"Will both of you be leading the class?" she asked, her expression inscrutable.
Jack's eyebrows shot up in dismay. Smiling, I gave him the rundown. "They want to make this a regular thing. You should join me. I'm new here, but you're a familiar face the parents trust."
"Trust?" Jack scoffed.
Talking over him, Denise said in a rush, "You don't want to get mixed up with someone with a criminal history, Sunny. You don't need his help; you handled the kids perfectly fine on your own."
"My conviction was overturned, as you know, Denise," Jack replied flatly.
She shared a tense look with a few other parents and crossed her arms. "Innocent or not, you spent four years in prison. That makes you not the best influence, in my opinion."
The two of them stared each other down. I read the crowd, who took their cues from Denise, even though her reasoning was intolerant. I considered my discernment pretty sound, and nothing about Jack raised red flags for me. The community, however, had room to grow in the heart-space area.
"If the neighborhood wants this activity, then I need someone with the patience and gentleness Jack showed today with the kids. Plus, he's had formal training in martial arts. Anyone who's not on board with Jack and I being a team doesn't have to sign their kids up. So, what do you say, Jack?" I pressed.
"I should've overthrown you when I had a small Taekwondo army at my disposal." Backing away, his gaze remained on mine, and his sculpted mouth quirked in a grin that, strangely, made my stomach somersault. I got the sense he appreciated me for standing up for him. "Let me think it over," he said.
"Alright. You know where to find me," I chuckled.
"We'll talk soon."
I bit my lip and couldn't look away.