The Illuminating Occurrence of Maxine Porter

The Illuminating Occurrence

of Maxine Porter

a novel by

Glenn Seerup

Copyright 2019 Glenn Seerup

Smashwords Edition

Cover design by Glenn Seerup and Emilie Cardoso-Seerup

Contact the Author:

glennseerup@gmail.com

www.glennseerup.com

ISBN 9780463411995

March

The journey begins. Preparations made, the path laid out. Emotions checked with much to do and many hurdles to leap. Engulfed in the cocoon anticipating the moment to emerge.

Journal Entry: Monday, March 8

I work at the Plush Porcupine. It’s the first line I am writing in my crisp black-and-white checkered composition notebook. It will also be the first line in my book when I write it. You would expect me to be nervous on my first day at my real job. Not really. I don’t expect to be here for much more than a year.

It’s not that I haven’t worked since my graduation in June. I earned some money working construction with my dad while I looked for a design job, but I hated it and I’m frankly not good at it. Physical labor isn’t my thing. I’m what my dad calls the artsy fartsy type. I used to take offense at that but then at some point, I embraced the truth in the statement. The change from construction worker to toy designer suits me perfectly.

Now that I’ve landed this job at the Plush Porcupine, I can put my other plan into motion. Along with my degree in Industrial Design from Iowa State University, I also completed a minor in English with an emphasis on creative writing. My design classmates thought I was nuts to add a minor because Design School is so time-consuming. Most people barely find time to eat and sleep, let alone pursue a second degree. I spent the little time I had reading and writing in lieu of hanging around our studio with the other design majors. They said I missed the social experience but that’s okay. I really didn’t like most of my classmates.

I wanted English to be my major but my parents, counselors, and anybody with an opinion cautioned that books are a dying art, and nobody can succeed as a writer. That’s how I came up with my grand idea to combine my degrees. I think it’s brilliant. I will write a documentary about my first year at the Plush Porcupine. They’ll probably fire me after that, but succeeding will prove to all those who doubted me that writing is a viable option for me. I enjoy design but I’m leery of working in a company. I prefer the solitude of writing. I’ll need to infiltrate my coworkers, get them to trust me and learn all about their personal stories and the drama that goes on in the office. This will be more of a challenge than it seems because in general, I’m not personable or social. I’ve found that with very little effort, I can find things that I don’t like about most anybody.

I arrived for my first day of work with three goals: work hard enough to be a respected employee for at least one year, be personable enough that my coworkers talk to me, and force myself to find at least one good quality about everybody so I don’t dread each moment of being there.

Caryn greeted me when I first arrived. Small in stature, her cropped reddish-brown hair and bright, excitable eyes exuded a certain confidence and authority. A young designer, she also acted as the de-facto Office Administrator, answering the phone, greeting guests, and generally doing whatever needed to be done. Even though she was overly perky and energetic, I liked her because she wasn’t phony and didn’t pretend to be important and snotty. She greeted me with genuine enthusiasm and displayed a sense of pride while showing me the office. Maybe she was excited having a new young person around who might be more fun and less stuffy. She obviously didn’t know me yet.

She took me right in to see Walter, who apparently just arrived because he was taking off his roller blades from his commute. His prematurely gray hair wind-blown from his morning skate, he was still catching his breath as he waved me into his office. Not sure if I should enter immediately or give him a minute, I hesitated. His tall, lanky body perched on the edge of his chair, bent over undoing the laces, his chest still heaving up and down. He looked to be in good physical shape for a man probably in his fifties. The thought of this man, the leader of a company, a genuine business professional, roller blading through the city as his preferred method of transportation with his long hair flowing behind him threw me. What would my dad think of Walter?

I had never met Walter in person. We conducted my interview over the telephone. Looking back on it now, I remember it being oddly disjointed, as if he and Scott, who was also on the call, were not really paying attention. Walter mentioned during the interview that they had a position suddenly open, creating an immediate need. He happened upon the digital portfolio that I recently e-mailed to him and decided to give me a call. It all seemed fantastic to me at the time. Now, he seemed to have forgotten who I was and that I was starting work today. He was nice about it and pretended that he was excited to see me but I could see the exhaustion creep into his eyes as he quickly ran out of things to say.

Leading me out to the studio, he handed me off to Scott, who was just as surprised to see me. Scott greeted me with a deep sigh and tired eyes. He stood up from his chaotic desk filled with messy stacks of paper and dirty dishes, ran his fingers through his matted, wiry hair, brushed some crumbs from the front of his shirt, and looked around as if trying to figure out what to do with me. According to Walter, Scott was to set me up with a desk and computer, neither of which were ready.

They didn’t have any projects ready for me to jump into either, so Scott passed me back to Caryn to get a tour of the office, show me where to put my lunch, and get a pen and whatever supplies I might need. Really, they were stalling for Scott. Caryn walked me around and introduced me to everybody else, which only consisted of two other people. Marty, another designer, huddled over her desk looking just as stressed out as Scott. The wrinkles around her eyes betrayed the many years of toiling for this company. Her light brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail revealed the gray roots close to her scalp. She barely looked up to say hello. Matthew, an energetic, smartly dressed man not much older than me, was much more personable. He greeted me with an emphatic handshake and I couldn’t help but marvel at his perfectly combed, jet-black hair. I felt a little discomforted. I’m always leery of overly excitable people. I found out that his job is handling the marketing side of the the Plush Porcupine, which seems to fit my initial observation of his personality.

With nothing to do for most of the day, I spent most of the time idling in this room in the back of the office. Set up kind of like a Kindergarten classroom, they call it the Play Pen. Filled with toys and miniature tables and chairs, the bright colors on the walls helped cheer me up. They apparently bring kids here to test out new toys. It relaxed me and kept me out of sight for most of the day. So much for trying to ingratiate myself with everybody, this is going to be harder than I thought. It’s only day one.

Thursday, March 11: Walter

People talk about fate. People talk about divine intervention. Some people just pass it off as coincidence. Hayden Carlisle had his own ideas of what happened that fateful year at the Plush Porcupine and shared his thoughts with his journal. Tough times had befallen the company. They hadn’t had a hit product in a few years, sales were slipping, morale was down, and people started to notice. They needed something drastic to turn things around.

Walter Keeler, owner of the company, a big name in the toy design industry, built his company on his first big success, the Plush Porcupine. This seemingly innocuous plush animal earned top selling honors for toys during Christmas of 2001, launching his career and company.

As a young designer, Walter toiled his days away in the drafting room of RB Toy Design Inc. He spent all of his free time sketching, building models, and creating his own ideas and products. One of his favorites sat on his desk with him at RB Toy Design and garnered a lot of attention from his coworkers. One day he snuck it into a lab while a play session was going on with some test kids. The kids, enthralled, wouldn’t leave it alone. One girl, when she thought nobody was looking, deftly slid it into her pink backpack. One of the other girls called her out and forced her to relinquish it.

the Plush Porcupine prototype stole the afternoon in the test lab, even though it technically wasn’t even supposed to be in there--nobody knew what it was or where it came from. However, when Walter went to his boss and asked him if they could produce more prototypes and do more testing, he told him that it was probably a fluke and they didn’t have time to deal with it.

That didn’t stop Walter. The next day he didn’t show up for work. Instead, he went to one of RB Toy’s buyers and brought the Plush Porcupine with him. He had worked with them before, told them about the stunning day in the test lab, and asked if they would be interested in looking further into this product. He donated his prototype to the local preschool around the corner from his loft and, with the permission of the preschool, invited the buyer to come and observe the results. The plush toy took its place among the other toys at the school. Its body hosted long, pink quills which looked, from as close as three feet away, to be razor sharp. But one touch of the quills behind the cute animal’s imploring eyes demonstrated that they were actually soft and spongy. Just as they did at the test lab, the kids in the pre-school battled and argued over the irresistible creature. Walter secured an instant deal. When they asked him what his company name was, he didn’t think long before answering. The next day he created the Plush Porcupine.

After a few months, with the success of the Plush Porcupine and several ideas for other new products, he convinced Marty Slater, a young designer at RB Toys, to come along with him and help him get his company going. Marty, who some people would call an old soul, focused diligently on her work. Walter saw her genius as they worked the long hours at RB Toys. They could work together without conversing or explaining. He also noticed her eyes light up when she first saw the Plush Porcupine on display.

The two of them found a small space to rent and started building the business. Over the ensuing years, they had a good run with successful products like the sticky-stacking pyramids, the pull-along puppy, and others. In recent years, unfortunately, they endured a major slowdown. Morale was low.

Walter had an interview scheduled with a senior designer named Maxine. After a look at her resume and a short telephone conversation, she seemed too good to be true. He worried how Marty would react to another strong, talented, and younger, woman in the mix so he invited Marty to the interview to make her a part of the decision.

He also hired this kid, Hayden, after only a telephone interview. He was young and fresh out of school so Walter had no immediate expectations. After only a few days, he already regretted this decision. The quirky kid did not seem to be fitting in.

How are you settling in? Walter asked Hayden early in the morning. Hayden answered with silence and a quizzical look. Is everything okay? Walter continued after the awkward pause.

I guess, Hayden shrugged.

How’s that project going? Walter prodded, looking at Hayden’s computer

Fine, I suppose, Hayden responded, not meeting Walter’s eyes. I’m waiting for direction from Marty.

Has she not talked to you? Walter looked concerned and spoke slowly, as if to a small child.

Not since Tuesday. I guess she’s busy.

Okay. I’ll talk to her. Walter looked over to Marty’s desk. She was observing the conversation, slowly shaking her head and rolling her tired eyes. Walter attributed Hayden’s apathy to being young and in a new situation. He hoped it would change.

Journal Entry: Sunday, March 14

Yesterday was moving day. Today we are trying to settle into our new apartment. Adam graduated from the same Industrial Design program as me at Iowa State. I heard through some message boards that he was living in a month-to-month sublet, trying to find a more permanent solution. I reached out to see if he wanted to share an apartment - I needed to get out of my parents’ house. I didn’t really want a roommate but financially it made sense and living with Adam couldn’t be worse than living with my parents. We found a small two-bedroom apartment on the North Side of Chicago near Wrigleyville at a reasonable rent. Nothing fancy but I didn’t care. I just needed my own bedroom and to be independent.

I knew Adam about as well as I knew any of my other classmates from school. A good-looking, athletic type person, Adam had the rare combination of brains, looks, and a good work ethic. He led many of the late night studio outings to the local bars to help people clear their minds during crunch times and always put himself in the center of any social function. Even with that, his projects drew the best review from the critics. We worked together on group projects a couple of times when placed together, we discussed our projects occasionally, and pretty much went to all the same classes.

Adam works at a large creative firm called Aqua. They are a high-end design firm working on large-scale products for mega-companies. It’s a high-prestige firm, which generally means that they abuse the interns and younger staff with tedious tasks and long hours until they burn out and quit so new, energetic interns can replace them. It makes for a good resume line item but I had no desire to put myself through that. I prefer the simplicity of the Plush Porcupine and the smaller size will be just right for my documentary. I would never get to see behind the scenes at a place like Aqua.

My first week has been a little weird. I can’t figure out what’s going on. Everybody looks so stressed and there is so much tension in the air that I get a headache immediately when I walk through the front door. This can’t be good for me. There seem to be quite a few different projects that people are working on. I did finally get a computer on Tuesday and they paired me with Marty to get started on a product in its design infancy. It’s some sort of large foam building block system, kind of like oversized Legos without the sharp edges. It’s fairly interesting. I don’t think it’s a high priority because Marty just kind of walked me through the basics and let me go while she turned back to a couple of other projects she had on her plate.

Caryn keeps trying to talk to me and fill me in on the gossip, which is good. She can’t sit still at her desk for more than thirty minutes at a time. Her energy erupts and she needs to move around. She ends up standing at my desk, picking up a pencil sharpener or a pen and fidgeting with it in her hands while talking endlessly about whatever is on her mind. It will help me with my side project. I’m trying to be nice and pretend to listen to her but it’s hard. She just keeps talking and talking. One thing she said caught my attention. She mentioned an interview that Walter and Marty had. Caryn thinks there will be fireworks with Marty and another strong woman. It’s happened before, apparently. Fireworks could be good kindling for my documentary because so far this place is boring.

Next, I need to try to get to know Matthew better. He is young also and knows a lot of what is going on but he seems to spend half of his day in his office alternating between sitting on the edge of his desk and pacing back and forth in front of the door, while on the phone. That’s why I’m not in marketing. I hate talking to people.

Thursday, March 16: Marty

Marty looked back on the previous night’s interview with Maxine with mixed feelings. They met her at a local restaurant where they ate, drank and talked for several hours. Max, dressed smartly in a crisp pantsuit, entered after Walter and Marty had been seated. She immediately commanded the room, gliding effortlessly through the other patrons, a warm pleasant smile minimizing the professionalism of the crisp ponytail corralling her shiny brown hair. Marty struggled to push aside the envy she felt for the woman’s energy level and professionalism. By the time they ordered their second drink, she knew that they would hire her. By the end of the evening, they all shook on it. She would start on Monday.

Arriving at work, Marty felt a renewed energy. Whether from the positive feelings about Maxine or her competitive nature, she couldn’t tell. Her first task of the day after settling in was to meet with Hayden to discuss the progress in the concept for the foam block project. This quelled her good mood because she still wasn’t sure about Hayden. Even though only a week had passed since he started, Marty still felt uncomfortable around him. Hayden had the looks of a person who could disappear in a crowd. His round face didn’t display any unique features. He was taller than average but carried himself meekly, minimizing his height. His sandy brown hair, cut to average length, didn’t really have a style that you could name. He didn’t speak much, just sat at his desk and worked, but it didn’t feel like he did anything. He had this distracted aura around him as if he was eavesdropping on everything that Marty said.

The super-soft stacking blocks project was one of Scott’s ideas, but he didn’t have time to work on it with all of his other projects. With the recent lack of success with their new product efforts, the office had tried stepping up with more quantity, hoping something would take. Marty didn’t really have the design skills. She wasn’t the idea type. She excelled in the crafting and detailing of the product, making it affordable to build, and getting it out to manufacturers in a timely manner. Thus, the stacking blocks project now fell to Hayden to work out with Marty’s guidance.

When Marty first met Walter at RB Toys, she immediately liked him. The dreaming eccentric designer with the tough south side accent made her laugh. His unkempt beard with its premature gray made him appear ten years older than he really was. But it was his youthful energy and wild ideas that drew Marty to him--not in a physical or romantic way, more in the mutual respect they had for each other’s different skills. They worked well together. Walter would come to her and say, I’ve got this crazy idea but I don’t know if it can be built this way. Marty would answer, I’ll see what I can do. Usually with a few tweaks, they made it work.

Right about the same time Marty met Walter, she also met James Carter, who a few years later would become her husband. James also worked at RB Toys, in the Accounting department. They met one evening after a big project when the art director took the whole team out for a celebratory happy hour, including James, the project accountant. Because of the size of RB Toys, Marty and James rarely crossed paths; James didn’t have a reason to visit the production floor often. Marty found James to be handsome in a grounded, comfortable way. His manicured beard fit his average height frame, yet the beginnings of a beer gut made him appear to slouch.

When she began to talk to him, she enjoyed his directness and his ability to focus on her and their conversation without being distracted. Hanging out with creative types all her life, whether in design school or at the office, she became accustom to the type of person that seemed to have twenty different ideas floating around in their head at all times. She enjoyed that when she spoke with James he listened to her and reacted to what she said without interjecting his own story or opinion. Although kind and thoughtful, he didn’t initially seem to share the same romantic interest in her that she harbored for him.

James and Marty married in the summer of 2007 but things quickly began to unravel. James wanted to move out to the suburbs and start a family. He complained about the long hours she worked and yearned to spend more time with her. Marty enjoyed the city life afforded them by their apartment in Greektown and didn’t want to give that up. James wanted to have kids but Marty hesitated, worried it would interfere with her responsibilities at work. After many conversations on the topic and after some time had passed, they agreed that they would have a child while living in their apartment, and experience having a child in the city before considering moving.

Unfortunately having a child was a dream they couldn’t realize. Months then a year passed with Marty plotting her cycles and finding the optimum times for copulation. They tried different diets, different times of day and night, and different positions, but disappointment came every month in the form of a period. As time passed, they saw specialists and the results indicated that James had a low sperm count, likely due to blockages. Their doctor told them they had options, which they understood, but the stress of it all had deflated their dreams and they both agreed they needed to take a step back. Eventually they discussed options like medical treatments and adoption, and both agreed that they would do that, but neither one ever made any meaningful attempt at looking into it. Part of her recent stress was that as time continued to go on, their interactions grew more awkward, with less and less to say to each other. Marty didn’t know how to fix it and had a bad feeling that they were irreversibly drifting apart.

It was with these thoughts running through her head that Marty pulled her chair into Hayden’s workstation next to his computer to look at his progress on the super soft stacking blocks. Hayden pulled up the project on his screen and they began to discuss the various geometrical shapes.

So what’s with the big round nubs on top of the blocks? Marty began.

Those are there so that when they stack, the nubs go into the holes in the bottom of the other one.

You mean just like a giant Lego?

Well, kind of.

It doesn’t look like ‘kind of.’ It looks exactly like a giant Lego. What happened to the castellated tops in the original concept? I kind of liked that.

I thought those would be more expensive to build. And I kind of like the look of a--

--Lego? Marty finished his sentence. Actually, the castle look would be easier and cheaper. The round nubs of the Lego look would be more difficult to be consistent at this scale. And it will also be better because we probably won’t be sued by Lego. Hayden smiled but she could see the strain behind it. So what are you thinking about the material? Marty asked, trying to break the tension.

I don’t know. I thought that was your expertise, Hayden said a bit too bitterly.

I mean, are you thinking soft and cuddly or more rigid and bouncy? That will go a long way into figuring out the material and manufacturing process, Marty prodded.

Definitely not soft and cuddly. These need to be stacked and built several levels high. They need to hold their shape but be light enough and soft enough so that when they come tumbling down, they can crash over the kids’ heads and nobody gets hurt.

How big are these blocks? Marty asked. I’m not getting a sense of scale from the screen.

Well they all vary but the biggest one here… Hayden pointed at the screen. Is about three feet long by one foot wide and one foot tall.

Okay. That’s good. When you say they vary, they are still all proportional to each other so that they stack together, right?

Well duh. I did pattern them after a Lego, didn’t I? Look, I may be young and new at this but I’m not stupid. Hayden was getting agitated and his gruff personality came out.

Whoa. Easy. I just have to ask the questions. I think you’re on the right track with the size. Let’s get the nubs off and the castellated tops back on. Throw some dimensions on there and show a few examples of how they can stack together with the various sizes. Maybe show how it turns a corner, how you can create a window, maybe some varying height blocks to give a little play to it. I will get you some examples of different foams. Let’s get back together next week and go through this again. I want to get some prototypes started in about two weeks.

Yes ma’am, replied Hayden. She felt the obstinacy in his body language and the way he dismissed her, the petulant youth exerting his displeasure at the authority figure. She smiled, remembering what it was like being young and confident.

Hayden, relax. This is supposed to be fun. We’re making toys for Chrissake.

Journal Entry: Monday March 20

Maxine Porter started at work today. I like her. I’m not sure why. I don’t like anybody. I like her. She said to call her Max. I like that. She had an energy about her. It was like she walked into the office and suddenly the lights were brighter, the air was cleaner, people smiled. Caryn followed her around most of the day.

Normally when I meet people for the first time, I give a blank stare, I stumble over my words, it gets awkward, they mumble an it was nice to meet you and then walk away. Max walked right up to me with her hand outstretched, shook my hand with a firm grip, and started talking to me as if we were old friends. It made me wonder if she just had an incredible personality that made people like her. We’ll see how she works and what her design skills are like.

Max’s presence affects the energy in the entire office. I overheard Walter and Marty talking about how amazing she is. I get it. I like her and all but what about the rest of us? I don’t remember conversations about me like that. What really bugs me is, how do they know? Barely even a week has passed. Are they basing this simply on first impression? If that’s the case then by all means, I’m in complete agreement. However, let’s give it a month and see what happens when the shininess wears off.

I tried to get some information out of Caryn, but she said she didn’t know anything about her yet. I hate to be a stalker but I had to do an internet search for her. The odd thing was that nothing came up. I mean a whole bunch of people came up: an eighty-nine year-old from Florida, a sixty-five year-old from Arkansas, an eighty-two year-old from California. Nobody fit