Finding Purpose in a Pandemic

 Sam was sleeping in … and he hated it. It was 8:30 am, and instead of working, the grown man was tossing and turning in bed. Unfortunately, with the national stay-at-home order forbidding more than groups of ten, he was one of the people laid off from his job. But who lays off a janitor during a pandemic? Sam thought bitterly.

    He couldn’t stand it. He needed to work. 

    Sam roughly tossed back the covers, accidentally waking his wife, Ronnie, lying with her back to him. “Hey,” she muttered irritably. She half-turned to glare at him.

    “Sorry, hon,” Sam whispered. “Just go back to sleep.” 

    Ronnie grunted and turned her back on him again. Sam wondered why she was so grumpy, but then remembered she’d stayed up late last night on the phone. Quietly, he picked up a pair of jeans and a white shirt off the floor and slipped out of the bedroom.

~

    Sam (now fully clothed) paced the kitchen, listening to his cell phone ring and ring. The broad-shouldered man ran his hand through his shaggy, sandy blonde hair. “Come on, Rick,” he whispered, leaning back against the counter. He absently ran his finger across the countertop and checked his finger for dirt, hoping for something to clean. Nope. Not a speck. Not that he was surprised; he must’ve cleaned the house five times in the past week for something to do.

    The ringing stopped, and a voice answered. “H’lo?”

    Sam smiled at the sound of his manager’s voice. “‘Sup, Rick? How’s it goin’?”

    Rick chuckles. “Hey, Sam.” 

    “Business going well? Got any more customers?”

    “No,” Rick answered patiently. “Not since you called yesterday.”

    “Well, maybe I could just rotate a shift with Archie-.”

    “He has seniority over you, Sam, and you’re the last janitor I hired. I had to let you go.” A pause. “Look, if you need some cash, I can loan you-.”

    “It’s not the money, Rick, I need work! I just ... don’t feel right not working, y’know?” Rick sighed, and Sam wondered if Rick was growing tired of him. “Please,” Sam insisted. “I’ll take any job you got.”

Silence. Then … “I’ll see what I can do,” he said with a weary voice. “No promises though. Stay healthy bud.” And he hung up. 

    Sam sighed and rested his phone on the counter. Then he did a double-take. Beyond the phone on the other side of the counter sat the computer he and Ronnie shared. Sam walked around the counter and sat down at the computer. He pulled up a search engine and typed “Hiring - Janitor.” A couple sites popped up for someone wanting to hire a janitor, but not to apply as one. 

    “Seriously?” Sam muttered and typed a new search for “Hiring - Cleaning Crew.” A few potential websites popped up, but most openings had been filled or cancelled. Desperately, Sam called the few companies that did have openings, but they told him they weren’t hiring right now. They suggested he call back when the pandemic had ended. An hour of fruitless searches left Sam feeling more discouraged than when he’d started. 

    He threw himself back in his seat and stared at the computer screen, working his clean-shaven jaw back and forth. Suddenly he heard a yelp outside. Curious, Sam stood and walked to the front door to peer outside. 

    Next door, his elderly neighbor, Ms. Sheila, tentatively turned on a power-washer hose. The hose bucked as the water blasted out, and the older woman yelped again. She quickly shut it off. 

    Sam chuckled. “Need any help, Ms. Sheila?” he called out.

    Ms. Sheila squinted her eyes at him (though Sam guessed she was smiling behind her facemask). “Well, I mean, if you happen to be offering …” she said sweetly. Sam grabbed his facemask that hung by the door and hurried over to her lawn. As he approached, Ms. Sheila explained, “I was trying to power-wash my house, but couldn’t figure out how to work this darn thing.” 

    Sam beamed excitedly, and the muscles in his arms tensed, eager to be of use again. “Just set it down. I’ll help you.”

    Ms. Sheila squinted her eyes again. “Aren’t you a sweetie?” she said as she laid the hose down and backed away, keeping six feet between them. When Sam picked up the hose, a smile stretched across his face. He paused to hold the hose, enjoying the feel of the tool in his hands. Then, he squeezed the handle and startled at the kickback. With a laugh, he braced himself and set to blasting the house. For hours he meticulously cleaned Ms. Sheila’s walls, blasting directly into the corners to get every last spot. After the walls were done, he cleaned her sidewalks just for the heck of it. Ms. Sheila thanked him wholeheartedly and apologized that she couldn’t pay him right now. Sam assured her it was no problem and walked back home, hardly feeling the ground he was walking on. 

    Sam strolled into the house and tore off his mask, swinging it by the strap around his finger. He tossed it back to the pegs on the wall, and the mask landed square on the peg. “Yes!” Sam hissed between his teeth and almost skipped through the living room. 

    When he rounded the corner into the kitchen, Sam paused, surprised to see Ronnie standing at the counter. He was completely taken aback by her appearance. Instead of her normal well-groomed appearance, she was still in her tank top and pajama pants, and her long brown hair still as rumpled as when he’d last seen it. She stood at the counter with her hands wrapped around a mug full of coffee.

    Sam’s happy feeling drained from him, and he put his thumbs in his pockets. “I was just, uh, getting some water,” he explained, not sure what else to say. Ronnie just stared down at her coffee, her hair blocking her face from view. Sam took a step past her to get to the kitchen.

    “Jess is getting a divorce,” Ronnie said so quietly Sam almost missed it.

    “What was that?”

    Ronnie finally turned and faced him, her eyes red from crying. “My sister’s getting a divorce!” she snapped. “She filed last month and never even told me! I only found out about it last night when I talked to her friend.” She inhaled a shaky breath, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. “I’m her sister, her best friend! Why didn’t she tell-?” Ronnie put a hand on her mouth and turned back to her coffee. 

    Sam felt like such an idiot. He should’ve known something was bothering her when she’d been so grumpy this morning. But he’d been too caught up in his own problems to notice. He put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly. “We’ll get through this. Why don’t we just … watch a Hallmark movie? You like those, right?”

    Ronnie huffed. “Oh, Sam, would you just-?” Ronnie paused, and then turned to him. “... hold me?” 

    Sam’s heart ached at the way she looked up at him so desperately. Without hesitation, he wrapped his strong arms around her and pulling her to his chest. Her warmth spread through his whole body, and he smiled, resting his cheek on her soft hair.

    His phone buzzed on the countertop. Sam looked over Ronnie’s head at the caller I.D. - “Rick.” Sam reached over and pressed the “End Call” button. It could wait ‘til later.

THE END.