At the Hope Foundation, an HIV nonprofit held together by overworked staff, burnt coffee, and the stubborn determination to help, Martin White is drowning. Clients in crisis, endless documentation, constant emergencies, and the weight of other people’s pain have left him exhausted and unsure of his worth. His emotional support dog, Bam Bam, can only do so much.
But when a donation of dildos mysteriously disappears from the lobby, Martin grasps onto the absurdity like a rope thrown down a well. If he can solve this case, ridiculous as it is, maybe he can prove he’s still capable, still valuable, still someone his team can count on.
What begins as a joke soon becomes an investigation that snakes through cubicles, home visits, drag queen gossip, front desk flirtations, and the emotional landmines of real casework. As Martin interrogates coworkers, chases leads, and dodges the increasingly threatening emails of a very dramatic office manager, the mystery forces him to confront the burnout he’s been avoiding and the community that has been quietly holding him up.
Behind the humor lies a deeper truth: sometimes the thing you’re searching for isn’t a box of misplaced sex toys, but the parts of yourself you forgot were still there.
Rafi, Martin, Delana, and Linda ate lunch around a folding table placed in a soon to be occupied cubical. Of course, Bam Bam sat between Delana and Linda because they gave in to his starving face.
All of the case managers grew close through shared trauma. However, these four become a small team within the team. Rafi was the newest in this group of trauma bonded case managers and was the same age as Linda and Martin. Delana was much younger, still touched by trauma. They were all survivors.
“I guess we all read that email,” Martin said.
Delana laughed, “I can’t wait to tell my friends. Only this place would send out a serious email with that subject.”
“And no runs to HR,” Linda said. “Just another day.”
Rafi said, “The cleaning staff took them. ‘Honey, I need these.’”
“Ohmygawd, that poor woman. Can you imagine if she opened the box and found it?” Martin said.
“Dildos,” he stressed the S. “Honey, it was plural. Dildos.”
Delana said, “Are they expensive?”
Rafi said, “Like you don’t know. Please.”
“Every gay and lesbian square dance event I went to raffled off a gift basket of dildos,” Martin said. “Various sizes and a Jolly Green Giant.”
Everyone laughed, and the ladies yelled, “Gross.”
“Did you ever win?” Delana asked.
“Nope,” Martin confessed, “but I wanted too, so bad.”
They ate in silence for a moment.
Linda asked, “Did you start in the field this morning, Martin?”
“Yeah, out saving lives,” he said, which got the slight laugh it deserved. “I had to recertify Mr. Denny. Then as I’m driving back, I saw Ms. Elli standing at the bus stop, so I drive her home. She’s not feeling well. It was nice and gave her a chance to update me on all her appointments.”
“That’s nice,” Linda said, “She wasn’t rude?”
“No. She’s not been rude for a long time. Maybe a year,” Martin said. “She seemed really appreciative for the ride.”
Delana said, “That’s nice. It makes it worth it, doesn’t it.”
“It does,” Martin said freely. “But it always surprises me.”
It’s nice, he thought. It’s nice, but it never equates to believing I know what I’m doing, or that I do good work.
Rafi added, “Especially after the car incident.”
Rafi referred to an incident when Ms. Elli had berated Martin for ten minutes, accusing him of stealing food from her. When she left, Martin collapsed on the steering wheel, debating turning in his notice right then. Then she knocked on his window to continue the rant.
Martin said, “Her anger seems abated and hasn’t returned. I’m even getting over my shell shock. I don’t tense up like I used to when I have to visit her.”
“What changed?” Delana asked.
“Getting her to her eye surgery at seven in the morning -- twice. I guess I proved myself.”
Yet, he never felt the success that deserved.
Linda’s phone vibrated. She looked down and said, “Another dildo email.”
She read the email aloud.
“From Tony the office manager,” she said.
“This ought to be good,” Martin said flippantly.
Linda said, “Subject: Return the dildos. Staff, whoever took the dildos, return them immediately. Return them now, no questions asked. That’s it.”
Rafi said, “Short and threatening, like all my exes,” he paused, “would say about me.”
Rafi’s strength lay in his willingness to help everyone feel happier.
“Wow,” Martin said. “He’s not happy.”
“Never is, Lord!” Rafi said. “It’s his parents’ fault for naming him Anthony Anthony. Seriously. No reason for it.”
It was the general consensus that office manager Anthony Anthony A.K.A. Tony wasn’t a manager who understood humor. His emails always hit heavy. The executive manager could send an email striking no fear in anyone, but not with Tony.
Martin said, “Because it’s a gift from a donor, it’s more serious.”
Everyone agreed.
“At first, I thought this was a funny situation. Typical of here, but that email from Tony changes it,” Martin said.
Delana joked, “Maybe you should investigate. You’re always reading a mystery. This is your chance to crack the case.”
Everyone laughed.
“Find the dildos, halt Tony’s bullying, prevent his early death -- become a hero,” Martin said. Be someone you like, he thought.
