Dear Reader,
I’ve re-evaluated the idea of being an Unspeakable. It doesn’t seem to be too bad a career change. It’s not a drastic change, anyways. I’d just work more days a week, and more hours a day, really. In fact, there would be a slight pay raise involved. I don’t see why Ben feels it’d be so… necessary to leave all together. But, I know better than to ask him anything personal like that.
So I’ve decided to go straight to an Unspeakable and do what I do best, ask questions. I’m debating on who to ask, as I don’t know many of them well. But there are a few who I’ve met. The first one who comes to mind is Helen Hancock. She’s the head of sub-department to the Unsolved Case room, within the archives”the room I read Fenwick and Dearborn cases. She was always nice to me and allowed me to use her sub-department as a place for research. Perhaps she would grant me one more favor…
***
Dear Reader,
Today I talked to Helen. Sorry I haven’t written for three days, dear reader, but I had to go to my sister’s house. She was ill and needed someone to look after her baby son, Alexander. It was nice, to spend time with my family, but I missed work and I missed you, my friend.
I know it must sound weird, calling you my “friend” as you are a figment of my imagination… A psychological remedy for my loneliness…
But, as I was saying, before I digressed, I spoke with Helen today. It was actually quite interesting, the things she told me… I never knew… I guess I should write this down and stop antagonizing you with my ellipses and incomplete thoughts.
I went to the Unsolved Cases room in search of Helen. She was behind her librarian-like desk, reading over a list of some sort. I waited until she looked up.
“Deanna, what a pleasant surprise!” she said, genuinely. I liked that about her. “What brings you to my little corner of the department?”
I smiled and explained how I was doing some… personal research on Unspeakables and what their jobs required.
“And I didn’t know who else to come to,” I said at long last. “You’re the only Unspeakable I really know.”
Helen adjusted her glasses so that they were even. I recognized that motion to be one that often came during thought.
“What would you like to know, my dear?” she asked softly. “Do take a seat.”
She conjured a chair for me and I sat in it.
Before I could speak, Helen interrupted, “I have the feeling that this will be a long discussion. Would you like a cup of tea?”
I nodded. Helen is a very motherly person… or she is to me. I can’t believe I haven’t mentioned her before this! Honestly, you would love her, I think. She’s like a mother who doesn’t scold. Like that aunt who actually gives you useful advice on life or that dear friend who has always been your crying shoulder.
“Now, you can begin,” she said as tea cups appeared with a flick of her wand.
I reached for mine. Two lumps of sugar. Helen knew that was my idea of the perfect cup of tea. After taking a sip, I began to ask my questions.
“What’s it like… really like… being an Unspeakable?” I asked.
The question sounded good in my head, but once I had spoken, it sounded vague. Helen cocked her head slightly. I tried again.
“What’s the difference between being an Unspeakable and a Field Researcher?” I rephrased my question.
“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere! Well, Deanna, think about what you’re required to do. You give surveys and polls. You read materials. You write reports. You research the unknown. But how many days a week do you work? How many hours a day?” Helen stopped, waiting for my answer.
“I guess I work as many days as possible a week. Sometimes two, sometimes seven.” I took a sip of tea. “I work as many hours as possible. Sometimes three a day, sometimes ten a day.”
Helen, who had been drinking her tea, smacked her lips loudly.
“Now, imagine working, consistently eight hours a day, six days a week. That’s at least forty-eight hours a week. Now, factor in over-time. That’s anywhere between forty-nine hours to sixty hours a week. Could you handle that?”
“Of course I can! I’m a grown woman!” I said, nearly spilling my tea. The thing about talking with Helen is that sometimes, she forgets I’m grown and gets too much into her motherly stride.
She laughs gently. I flare my nostrils in irritation.
“Deanna, please calm down. I understand you are a grown woman. What I mean to say is, ‘Can you handle giving up that much time of your life?’ or perhaps, ‘Could you handle knowing you may be alone for the rest of your life?’ It’s not a question of maturity level; it’s a question of choice.” Helen’s voice was bitter.
I looked at her blankly. Dear God did I look like an idiot. I’m sure my mouth was hanging open. I shut it and regained my composure.
“It’s more than time that you give to this career, Deanna. It’s your life… your soul you give up to do what you love. When I was your age, I was carefree as anything. I had a steady boyfriend and life was going great. But then I got serious about my work. I stopped seeing the boyfriend and I became more serious as a result. Last I heard, my boyfriend married another woman and they have three kids, and six grandchildren. That was the sort of life I could have led; one with family and friends. But I chose this. I became a career woman. Is that what you want to do?”
Helen fell silent. I knew she had just poured her heart and soul out to me. I could tell she felt some regret to the fact she didn’t settle down. Or maybe it wasn’t “regret”. Maybe it was just the curiosity to the unknown. Something all Unspeakables research-- the unknown.
I bit my lip. I had not looked at this side the career. But, it was a sacrifice I was willing to make. I thought of Delilah. She no longer worked full-time as she had a baby to care for. I thought of how she played peek-a-boo with Alexander every day. I couldn’t see myself reduced to that. Besides, I have the people at work. And I have you, my friend. I think I will become a full-time Unspeakable after all.
***
Dear Reader,
Today, I’m going to see Anterberry about the career change. I will become an Unspeakable. To me, it seems to be the choice that is right for me. Yes, I understand how hard the transition may be on me…. Socially, that is to say. But, it’s a sacrifice I am willing to make. I never really wanted or needed a family of my own”I was born into one, so why create my own? I don’t think I’ll feel an empty space knowing that I don’t and won’t have kids. It’s not on my Christmas Wish list, now is it? I don’t want to waste my life on Pat-A-Cake when I could be out there, doing what I love.
I hope you understand me, my friend. Maybe you cannot relate. I’ll assume you can’t and see if I can explain it to you…
I always took care of my little sister. In a sense, raised her. What more could I ask for? That was my idea of parenting, because I had no personal benefit from it. It was fun, and we became close as a product of it. That, my friend, fills the void of not having my own family. Delilah’s grown now and doesn’t need me anymore. I need me now. I need to do what I feel is right. And becoming an Unspeakable is what feels right to me.
Unfortunately, neither Jenny nor Ben feels the same way. They both plan on resigning. I’ve heard whispers between them about getting married. I say, ‘good for them’. They deserve each other. Nervous Jenny needs someone to take care of her. And Ben needs someone who will let him take care of them, no questions asked.
I’m going to make a fresh start. I’m going to be part of a new department. I’m going to have new co-workers. I’m going to have new hours. Everything will be new.
Which is why I’m glad I have you. You aren’t “new” per say. You’re my friend and I can take you with me when I change careers.
Perhaps by tomorrow, you will be hearing from Unspeakable Davis. I like the sound of that.