In the office.
A Short Story
Trigger Warnings: Gun Violence & Depictions of Mental Health
December 23rd 1986 4:49 PM
The receptionist whispered “I got to go Janet– one of the bosses is coming.” before she quickly slammed the phone down. Whatever. What do I care if she talks on the job? Marty told me to start telling her off but I’m just not that type of guy. I was in a rush, as we always are around the holidays. The holidays were the time that we are all supposed to be cheery, thankful, and placated, but in reality, at least today’s reality, we were at each other’s throats. We were balancing deadlines, end of year quotas, and bullshit with greeting cards, over-consumption, and bullshit.
Bullshit and the feeling that we’ll never get to feel the way we did before. The lights didn’t glow as bright as they used to. We didn’t belly laugh anymore. We hugged family but they wrapped their arms around us like we were fragile. She wrapped her arms around me like she didn’t know me. Like we were strangers. Like she didn’t invite me to the party or she did as a courtesy but didn’t really expect me to show up. Anyways that’s another story. This one is more important than all of that.
So who cares if she’s talking. She still does an alright job in my book.
“See ya Jen. Have a good night.” I said as I passed.
“Night Jim!”
I rushed through the lobby and the elevator doors opened to let a man out who rushed to the receptionist’s desk. Rushing. Everyone is rushing.
I walked into the elevator and turned around. The elevator doors closed as I heard the man say to Jen, “If you could just ask them again…”
Riding down I wondered if that was the same guy from yesterday. He was a walk-in asking for help with a situation that we just really didn’t have the resources to help him with. He didn’t really have the resources for us to help him with neither if you know what I mean.
Sucks to have to turn people away during the holidays but that’s how it goes.
December 22nd 1986 2:58 PM
“We get the craziest people walking in here. He was leaning over the desk like he was going to grab my shirt or somethin– No I swear! He was asking about some job he had that fired him. No! No, well I don’t know nothin about that. I guess that’s true. Ya never know these days I swear. Oh I gotta go, the phone’s ringin.” Jen hung up the phone and picked it back up immediately to answer the call.
“Hello this is– Uh how can I help you sir? No no we already told you. Unfortunately we are going to have to decline. No. No. Nope, I am sorry but they didn’t give me a reason. I’m hanging up now. I’m sorry.”
Jen hung up and dialed a number on the keys.
“You’ll never guess who just called here! Thought the dude didn’t have a phone.”
December 22nd 1986 10:36 AM
“Do you know who I am? I’m fucking Marty. You know who I am. I’m MARTY. Fucking the only Marty in the town that you should know. Right? Now you remember? You’ll remember after I carve my fucking name into your forehead.”
Marty slammed the phone down onto its receiver and motioned for Jen to come into his office.
“What’s going on Jen? Can’t you see I’m on the phone.” he spit out.
“Oh I’m sorry Marty. There’s this guy out here and— he’s not really taking no for an answer. I told him I would take his information down but he didn’t have a home phone or an address or nothin! I can’t get him to leave.” Jen explained.
“Jen? Isn’t the front of the house your job? I’m sorry but go get Jim or something. I’m working here.” Marty swiveled his chair around and picked up his phone again.
“Who’s this? Who’s this? ITS FUCKING MARTY!”
December 22nd 1986 10:39 AM
There was a knock at my door and I set down my coffee to see Jen already in the open doorway. She had tears in her eyes.
“Jim. I’m sorry I don’t mean to cry, really. There’s this guy out there and I thought maybe Marty would scare him off but he just yelled at me and I know how he could be but I just– I’m just overwhelmed. I’m sorry. Can you speak to him?” She sniffled.
“Sure Jen. Why don’t you take a minute in the breakroom? Grab a soda?” I placed my thumb and pointer finger to the bridge of my nose. The fluorescent lights were giving me a killer headache.
I walked to the lobby to see a guy pacing back and forth while rubbing his hands through his hair and shaking his head. I could smell him from the doorway. He was tall and looked like he hadn’t had a meal in a few days.
“Listen pal, I don’t think we can help you.” I tried to keep my voice steady, slightly raised, but I was a little nervous.
“No no listen, please just hear me out man. I’m about to lose everything and no one will help me, you have to just listen. I have something you want to hear.” He stopped pacing and faster than I would’ve liked was only about a foot away from me as he pleaded, almost touching my suit as he waved his hands around.
“I don’t think so. You have to go somewhere else. It’s not something we do here.” I said my words calmly but firmly.
“Why won’t anyone help me? You have to man, this is my last place man. You have to. Please I lost my job, my kids, it’s fucking Christmas man.”
“Pal, if we’re going to have a problem, I can call security and have them escort you off the premises.”
“I just– I just don’t know what to do. I’m going. I’m going. Please. I just– I just got nothin man, nothin” The man put his hands to his head and into his hair, squeezing until I saw his knuckles go white and his face go red.
“Pal seriously this is my last warning.” I nearly yelled. I couldn’t remember the last time I raised my voice like that.
“I’m going!” His voice squealed and whined like he was going to start sobbing. He barreled out of the emergency exit doors, banging his hands to his head.
I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding when I couldn’t hear him in the stairwell any longer. I felt relieved.
“Thanks Jim, people get so crazy around the holidays.”
December 23rd 1986 4:50 PM
“Sir, I’m sorry. They told me no. I can’t do anything for you.”
The man reached into his pocket, pulled out a pistol, and held it to Jen’s head.
December 23rd 1986 4:50 PM
I thought about going back up and seeing if Jen needed help. I thought about letting Marty deal with something for once and heading home to my kids who don’t believe in Santa Claus anymore. I rode the elevator down to the ground floor. It was only four floors. I let the doors open revealing the bottom level of the building. Empty. I let the doors close again. Finally I put my finger on the fourth floor button. I felt the elevator stir on and lurch upward. I was in a rush but Jen was so upset last time. I couldn’t let her deal with that freak again alone when she’s probably trying to get out of there at this point too. She’s got kids too.
Ding
I passed the first floor. I thought about how I was going to handle it this time. He seemed a bit volatile. I don’t want to set him off.
Ding
Was I not aggressive enough before? Assertive enough?
Ding
My dad always told me I wasn’t assertive enough. Not like Marty. Marty would’ve made him piss himself.
Ding
December 23rd 1986 4:53 PM
The elevator doors opened.
It all happened so fast.
“You turned me away!”
“I was in need and you turned me away!”
“No no, sir I’m sorry! Please, I got kids at home!”
“You don’t think I have kids too?”
“Please, we– we can help you I swear. Jim? Is that you? Jim tell him we can help.”
I hesitated. I couldn’t get out the words. I was frozen.
“Do you think this guy gives a shit about you? About anyone? He probably forgot his favorite pen.”
Pop.
Her head exploded, painting the wall behind her red. Pieces of her skull, along with a spongy-looking substance speckled the wall.
I pressed the ground level button. I watched the doors close as the man turned around, pointing the gun at me.
Ding
Ding
Ding
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Thank you - M.N. Straun