Chapter Song: Polyamory Song by David Rovics

Chapter 69: Reassignment

Joan, Michael, and Tamara followed signs for volunteers' check-in and found themselves at a luxurious hotel with purple and yellow flowers by the entrance and pots of hanging red flowers along a side patio. Even with the vibrant flowers, adults in brightly colored T-shirts and silly hats dominated the scene.

In the lobby, a U of folding tables formed a barrier around a row of folding tables holding cloth bags containing volunteer packets. A name tag hung from each bag, which contained three T-shirts in the volunteer's size, meal tickets, coupons for local businesses, maps, schedules, and several thank-you trinkets. Joan approached the tables and gave her name to a volunteer behind the U.

The volunteer blanched. "How do you spell that?" She scanned a clipboard while Joan patiently fulfilled the request. The volunteer looked up again, spotted Joan's ring, and lost all her color. "I . . . I think we'll have to reassign you."

"Why?" Joan asked, knowing full well the reason but challenging the check-in volunteer to say it to her face.

"C-could you take a seat over there, please? I need to ask the tournament director." The volunteer gestured at a horseshoe of couches and chairs.

Joan sighed. "Sure." She dragged her rolling suitcase to a couch and plopped into it with Michael while Tamara roamed the lobby.

"Man told Woman we should have stayed home," Michael said.

The weight of everything started to pile up on Joan. "Why? So Woman could cry in bed for three days?"

"So we could process what happened instead of winding up with more things to cry about. They're probably going to kick us out now and ban us from ever coming back. If we'd waited a year, people would have forgotten and we could move on with our lives."

"Maybe Male's right, but we're here now, so whatever happens happens." Joan dropped a defeated head against Michael's shoulder.

"It's touching me," Michael whined.

Joan patted his bald head. "Smart Male, special Male."

"Pretty Male. Don't forget pretty."

"Smart Male, special Male, pretty Male."

"Your Male."

"Mine!" Joan wrapped her arms around him.

Michael pulled up a two-player game on his phone, and they passed it back and forth to pass the time.

An hour later, a warm greeting caused them to look up from Michael's phone. A grandfatherly man with wispy white hair wearing a vest covered in shiny Imagination of the Mind pins from all over the world peered down at them. "Joan Saunders and Michael Wurzel, I presume?"

Joan's eyes bulged. She recognized this man as none other than the founder of Imagination of the Mind. "Walter Mickley?"

"That's me."

Joan rose and shook Walter's hand. Michael pocketed his phone and followed suit. "It's an honor to meet you, sir."

"Please, call me Walt." Walt sat down in a nearby chair, and Joan and Michael returned to the couch.

"So . . . the check-in person over there said something about reassignment?" Joan opened.

Walt regarded her seriously. "Yes. You were originally assigned to judge the objective components of the Timeless Treasures performances, but given your current celebrity status, we worry about you being a distraction to the competitors."

Joan bowed her head. She should have taken more time to think this through. She should have seen this coming. "I understand. May we ride the next shuttle back to the airport?"

A twinkle entered Walt's eyes. "I'm not finished yet. For certain volunteer positions, distraction is exactly what we need. Since you have an outstanding seven-year service record with us, I think you would be suited to the Impromptu Competition Waiting Room."

"What?" Joan already knew how the Impromptu Competition worked from her years as a competitor in high school; she only asked the question from shock.

"The Impromptu Competition is an improvisational challenge presented and judged in secret so no team has an unfair advantage. To keep everything running on time, we ask the teams to check in early and have them sit in a waiting room until their judging team is ready for them."

"Yes, but why me?"

"Sitting in the waiting room is stressful for the competitors. They need some entertainment to loosen up before they take on the Impromptu Competition."

Michael's jaw dangled. «Has Walt gone senile? Why doesn't he just hire a dozen strippers instead of using you?»

Joan caught Michael's thought and replied, «Let's make sure we understand him correctly before jumping to conclusions.» "You want me to entertain the kids in the waiting room?"

"Of course. You don't have to do all the work yourself, though. Get the brave ones onstage. Get them involved."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Joan said.

"Why not? I heard you did an amazing job with the kids from the shuttle who wanted autographs. Granted you'll have to say no to autographs in the waiting room because there won't be time for everyone, but sing songs with them. Tell them stories. Ask them to share songs and stories that are special to them. Let them know it's OK to be goofy."

A smile spread across Joan's face. "OK, can do. Will Michael and Tamara be working with me too?"

At the sound of her name, Tamara stopped pacing the lobby and came to stand beside Joan's couch.

Walt looked up at her with a warm smile. "Oh, hello. Are you Tamara?"

"Yes, sir."

"We don't have you registered as a volunteer, but I understand you need lodging and meal tickets as Joan's bodyguard. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would you be up for helping Joan onstage with some silly songs?"

Tamara smiled. "I'd love to, sir."

"Excellent! We'll set you up with a full volunteer packet. As for you Michael, we'd like to keep you as a Timeless Treasures scorekeeper. Since you won't be as close to the competitors as Joan would have been as a judge, we believe a silly hat will be enough to disguise you."

"Aw, you mean I can't wear my tiara?" Michael whined.

Tamara shot a questioning look at Joan, but Joan just smiled.

Walt continued without batting an eye, "You could wear a tiara over a hat, but if it's a tiara you've worn at regional and state tournaments, I'd advise against it, as it might make you more recognizable."

Michael nodded.

"Thank you so much," Joan said.

"No, thank you. We can't run a tournament without all you volunteers."

Joan, Michael, and Tamara shook Walt's hand, picked up their volunteer packets, and checked into their third-floor hotel room. Once they put their luggage away, they headed downstairs to dine in the banquet hall with the other volunteers.