Grounded (From the Midnight Snacks Collection)

"There are things people can never remember and things people can never forget. It's all a matter of what I make of it. That's what keeps me grounded."

This was the mantra that Pete Sabarsky repeated in his head over and over again anytime he felt trapped in a situation of personal struggle. There was some kind of solace he felt in repeating it to himself over and over. It was handwritten on the refrigerator, taped on the wall of his cubicle at work, even on sticky notes on the car dashboard-- just the fuel he needed to keep himself in order.

Pete's career in retail management had worn him beyond a state of salvageable repair. He ran to ways he could escape the stress of the job. Deep down, he wanted to pour into people differently, and he didn't know where to start. The uncomfortable rut he was in had become the norm for him. He didn't know what else to do or where else to turn. He had money, family, possessions, and was blessed with physically good health, but it didn't slow down the war going on deep within. He would retreat as often as he could to the comfort of a book or expository writing to run from reality. Other times, an evening swim in the backyard pool would do the trick. He allowed the busy pace of life to keep him grounded most of the time, but there were still some moments where he just slipped.

His imagination would lead him down rabbit holes where he would get lost in thoughts that haunted him at various hours of the day and night. There were triggers for his little idiosyncrasies... every single time. He couldn't forget the images as they chased him down.

Coffee beans and laborers tirelessly harvesting a coffee crop to be shipped -- their mouths moving, but never heard, their faces dissolving into the bottom of the coffee filter of the company break room, swirling around and poured into the mug of choice for the next employee.

In the vision, Pete remained troubled, but never knew how to help make the voices audible or stop them from dissolving into coffee grounds. Like most nightmares, he was never in control of these visions. He tried to make himself forget every chance he could, but remained unsuccessful in his feeble attempts to lose the chilling image entirely. Every time he saw coffee, the same thought would hit him over and over again. His first eight years in management at Java World had run him ragged and the worst part was... the drink was everywhere he went. Whether he went to the break room, to get his oil changed, his haircut, or to meet with his financial advisor, the powerful, dark liquid surrounded him.

…

Pete began the conversation, "I'm concerned with how your performing, Will. Your numbers are slipping. You are not producing the way you should. What can I do to help you get back on track?”

"I just need more time to deliver, give me another week, and I will be up to speed," Will replied.

Will picked up his Java Stop coffee and took a sip while waiting for Pete to speak up again.

Pete's mind raced to a flashback as if hovering over Will on his way to work earlier that morning. He saw the declining employee racing down the 101 expressway at 90 miles per hour. He was late for work and still stopped by Java Stop before his arrival to the office.

"Triple espresso... French pressed... make it quick!"

The Java Stop employee handed the thrice-caffeinated beverage over, and Will raced to the office. He had been slipping in his work performance of late and not sleeping much. As Will collapsed into the hand me down office chair, he tried to make sense of the recent financial audit reports that were in front of him. He was waiting for the effects of the drink to kick in. It just wasn't happening. Pete arrived at his desk and asked for a meeting.

…

"Up to speed, huh? How about 90 miles per hour on the 101 this morning? That fast enough for you?!! My concern, Will, is that… you stopped for coffee this morning when you knew you were late and thought that was okay. We already spoke last week about your performance. YOU need to prioritize YOUR time more carefully. What made you think this was appropriate?"

"I wasn't late when I stopped. I was held up in traffic,” Will replied.

"Now you are full of it, Will! Show me the receipt from Java Stop and prove me wrong," Pete chirped back.

"I don't have it anymore," Will lied.

Not believing it, Pete again challenged Will, "Okay, well, you clearly have no issue using the company internet to check your bank account, so let's just go to your desk and show me the timestamp from when you swiped your card."

Will replied again, annoyed, "I used cash."

Pete disagreed in frustration, "No, you didn't, Will, I know you used a card. Show me now, or I'll fire your lazy behind for lying to me and timesheet fraud!"

Will walked to his computer and logged into the online banking portal. He showed the transaction to Pete-- the time stamp was marked 8:24AM. Will was due in the office by 8AM.

"Thank you… Will," Pete placed his hand on Will's shoulder, "You better think twice before you stop for coffee that late again, my friend. You should probably get that resume ‘up to speed’ pronto."

Will was taken aback by the direct line of questioning Pete had just put him through. The company motto, "Integrity always comes first," was posted and plastered all over the office. Talk about a stark reminder. Will was now officially looking over his shoulder in paranoia.

…

Pete sat back down at his desk sipping on his water bottle. He was a coffee addict during his years as a manager at Java World but had quit drinking it entirely about two years ago as he transitioned to his new job. Just the very aroma of coffee now put him in an off mood and strangely in-tune with the drinker's most recent hour. He knew something was misfiring, but didn't really want it to stop. He enjoyed the strangely inherited power. Victor Johnson approached his desk, holding a cup of coffee from Java Stop.

Victor was a nervous guy and struggled to get the words out to Pete, "I …. uh… need to ask for… uh… a day off. Something at home… has come up with my girlfriend."

A vision flashed in front of Pete as the nervous worker sipped his coffee. Just before he left his girlfriend for her shift at Java Stop, they had gotten into an argument.

She was tearing into him, "Why are you lying to me again, Victor? I know you were out gambling again last night. Who knows what the heck else you did after that? I can't trust you anymore."

"Samantha, you know that's not true. Pete kept me at the office late last night to do all of the work that he didn't feel like doing. He's lucky to have a guy as ‘dedicated’ as me to keep him looking so good."

Samantha shook her head and said, "Yeah, right… dedicated."

Victor hadn't been lying, but Pete didn't like the way he inferred his indolence in the flashback he had seen.

"So you think you're ‘dedicated,’ Victor? Are you sure I didn't keep you up here ‘too late’ last night? Or were you out gambling again?"

Victor looked startled by Pete's comment and left the room as if ready to faint from fear.

…

A few hours went by, and Logan Hackby's long lunch had run over time once again. Pete called him to his desk, "Logan, long lunch…again. What are you drinking there, partner?"

Logan responded in haste, "Double chocolate chip frap from Java Stop. Why do you ask?"

Logan took a drink and a vision flashed in front of Pete.

Logan zoomed down Alamosa Boulevard as he struck a homeless pedestrian in a hit and run.

Logan mumbled to himself, "Stupid guy should have moved out of the way. Not my problem that he can't keep a job."

He sipped on his coffee from Java Stop and kept hurrying to the office. He pulled into the Car Happy Car Wash and took an extra 15 minutes to detail the car and make sure there weren't any notable dents from the collision.

If anyone else had seen it, they were probably too busy to care.

Logan thought to himself on the drive back to the office, "Los Angeles is too cutthroat to be catering to every hobo that's panhandling the street corners."

Pete voice elevated, "Logan, you're going to be the one ‘panhandling the street corners.’ Pack your desk now and get begging. I will personally make sure that you never get a job in this city again."

Pete's intensely-willed rant on Logan was out of character for the usual, mild-mannered way that he was with his staff. The harshness caught both he and Logan off guard.

…

Pete left the office early that day and went to Java Stop. It was the seeming origin and common denominator of each of the visions and flashbacks. He sat next to a woman that looked quite distressed and unkempt. She had a cup of the pitiful free black coffee that Java Stop gave to the homeless which she sipped slowly.

As she drank, he saw a flash of her trying to pick up her friend, Wes, out of the street. He just had the wind knocked out of him by a self-serving jerk in a Jetta. He hit his head on the ground after the collision, but she was determined to get him the help needed. She took him downtown to the free clinic for the impoverished and headed to Java Stop.

Pete didn't say anything to the woman. He moved across the store and sat next to a very well-dressed man in a blue suit with a Caramel Mocha.

As the man took a sip, Pete caught a glimpse of the man sacking his hardest worker, "The thing with you Chris… is that you're too good. I don't need someone outperforming me. How does that look to our senior executives? You are making me look bad. Tone it down or get a job somewhere else."

Pete went over to the man and spoke, "You think you have it all figured out, pretty boy… that you can mismanage your power that way?"

The well-dressed man replied somewhat frazzled and mildly offended, "Excuse me… are you talking to me?"

Pete quipped back, "I am."

Pete grabbed the man's coffee and splashed it in his face. The man shrieked.

"Chris didn't deserve that. You need to be a better boss and work harder."

The man appeared deeply troubled. He hadn't told anyone about the situation , and Chris wouldn't have had time to tell either. Pete left abruptly feeling like he had done something for the good of the greater Los Angeles area.

…

He drove home and dove into his swimming pool-- 5 feet deep and the effects of 18,000 bags of lukewarm coffee, partially and improperly mixed into the water. Despite not drinking a cup in years, he remained obsessed with it in his own way. Before his career change, he stockpiled bags of coffee beans from Java World and began adding them and heating his pool earlier in the year to help the grounds merge with the water. He realized his immersion in the liquid after the fact granted him the unusual ability anytime he immersed himself the previous evening.

The guilt he felt for abusing the coffee and the laborers that prepared the “wasted grounds” had haunted him nonstop. The source of his ongoing struggle was indeed the thought of knowing it wasn't being used and drank the way it was intended to be.

Pete repeated the mantra to himself again while soaking in the pool,

"There are things people can never remember and things people can never forget. It's all a matter of what I make of it. That's what keeps me grounded."