Why are you thinking like this? You’re a high powered executive, a queen of New York. You have savings, you have important friends, you own your home, and you’ve even got Mr. Tweedles. I smiled at that. The doctor must have been right-the stress was getting to me. I just didn’t feel like myself.
Letting out a big sigh, I collected myself and made for the door. Everything would be fine.
Down the hallway I entered the conference room, and was surprised that projections of our Cognix customers weren’t filling the holographic wall. My boss and Bertram were sitting down on the other side of the long table, looking at me like they were waiting for my arrival.
I pulled up a chair opposite them, taking an aggressive stance as I sat down. I leaned into the table, feeling my old friend anger begin to make an appearance.
“What’s up guys?” I half asked, half challenged. I’d had enough of them already this week.
“Olympia, we’re glad you’re here,” began my boss stupidly, opening clasped hands that had been supporting his weak chin as if about to accept an award for incompetence.
I let go an audible groan.
“Roger, what’s up? Cut the bullshit. Did we lose the final phase of the account?”
“No,” he announced with pronounced lack of enthusiasm, “actually, we won.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“No problem at all. In fact, we want to use all of the materials you created. Great work!”
“Well, good then,” I replied carefully, softening up my seated posture.
“But…”
“But what?” I growled, leaning back into the table.
“We’ve made, ah, our client wants, ah, well, we want Bertram here to head the account. You’ll be working underneath him on this. I’d like you to show him the ropes, you know, you’re the expert.”
He smiled at me weakly while Bertram beamed enthusiastically. Worm. I smiled as I mentally uncapped the pot simmering inside me, feeling it boil over to explode through my temples.
“Are you out of your mind?” I yelled back at them both. “There is no way that I’m going to train this little shit eating monkey to do my job!”
Bertram shifted back in his chair, enjoying the spectacle, his grin floating disconnectedly in my red-shifted vision. My chest tightened as I attempted to let go another salvo. I gripped the table with white knuckles. My vision was swimming.
“Does this have anything to do with me not wanting to use that kid instead of Patricia?” I asked.
“No, nothing like that,” said Bertram, smiling. I didn’t believe him.
“Olympia, look, I understand how you feel,” pleaded my boss, “but you could learn a lot from Bertram too. Look how calm and collected he is.” He looked back at Bertram. “There is no rush on this, why don’t you take next week off, paid leave, and think about everything, okay?”
I stared down at the table, trying to get a grip on myself. Maybe that wouldn’t be a bad idea. I could use the time to plan out a strategy of how to undermine these idiots. Maybe it was best to just nurse my wounds.
“Fine,” I grumbled under my breath. I let the prospect of vengeance cool my soul. “Fine. Glad we won the contract, sir. I could actually use a little time off.”
“See,” said Roger, brightening up, “now that’s the spirit. Take as much time as you need, Olympia, we need you here in top shape. This will be a big job.”
Yes, I thought, this will be a big job.
Taking off early, I managed to get home quickly and was well through a second bottle of wine and curled up with Mr. Tweedles on my couch when night began to fall. An unusual early snow had started outside, and I watched squalls of snowflakes begin sweeping by in the streets outside through my large bay window.
The stress of the day had hardly abated. Even after polishing off the first bottle, I was having a hard time concentrating on a new romance novel I’d started. My mind was shifting back to plotting the downfall of Bertram and my boss.
Mr. Tweedles started purring and rubbing up against me. I’d been enjoying cuddling with him, but he’d rolled over onto his back, inviting me to scratch his tummy. I kicked him off the couch.
Sighing, I picked up two sleeping pills from the drawer in my coffee table, and taking a deep breath I washed them down with a mouthful of wine. Lighting up my last cigarette for the night, I called up Kenny.
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied instantly, appearing with a careful smile in my primary display space. I bet he’d heard about my little incident today. I bet I was the talk of the office.
I’d show them.
“Kenny, look, could you set my pssi to filter out anything that I find annoying, until you hear different from me?” If I have some time off, I reasoned, I may as well try to depressurize and make the most of the tools at my disposal.
“Sure,” he replied, “I guess I could do that.”
“I’ll just ping you if I need anything, okay?”
“Sounds good, no problem,” he responded, and then added, “and hey, enjoy the time off, okay boss?”
If I didn’t know any better, I could have sworn he was being genuine. I clicked him out of my sensory spaces without another word and got up off the couch, drunker than I thought I was, to wander into my bedroom and collapse on the bed.
9
Oh my head hurt. I groggily lifted it off the sheets and waited while my blurry vision adjusted to the half darkness of my bedroom. It was still early and I didn’t need to be up for work.
Wait a minute, it was Saturday. Finally, the weekend. As memories seeped into my brain, I realized that I didn’t need to go back to work this whole week, perhaps longer. Screw it. I flopped my head back onto my pillow and called out weakly for Mr. Tweedles.
“Hey, kitty kitty,” I called out, but without response. That was odd. Ah well. I conked back out.
In what seemed like moments later, bright light began streaming in through the window. It must have been fully morning. My head ached dully, so I flopped out of bed and made for the kitchen to get a glass of cold water.
Mr. Tweedles was still nowhere to be seen. Did I let him out last night? I didn’t usually let him out since he was a house cat, but I had been a little drunk.
Downing a tall, cool glass of water, I immediately felt refreshed. I should go for a run, I thought to myself. That would burn off some stress and get the gears going. There was nothing like a good run to fire up the imagination, and my mind was already cycling with ways to get back at Bertram and my boss.
So I moved back off to my bedroom to put on some cool weather sports gear, and moments later I was off jogging down my street, drinking in the cool autumn air and enjoying the crisp bite of the year’s first frost burning off in the early sunshine.
I admired the scenery, completely devoid of any ads, the streets sparkling and walls scrubbed clean, with no vagrants to spoil the view or inspire guilt. It was perfect. I jogged along 75towards Central Park.
It was calm, but gradually I began to get the feeling it was too calm. There was a complete lack of other people walking on the streets, or even any people in cars. It was early morning on the weekend, but even so. As I made it to the corner of the park, I decided I’d better check in with Kenny to make sure my pssi was working properly.
“Kenny!” I demanded. “Kenny, could you check the pssi system for me?”
No response. I slowed up my jog a little, suddenly nervous. Maybe he was hung-over too.
“Kenny!” I yelled out again, and then stopped jogging and halted, waiting for a response.
“Kenny!” I yelled, and then screamed, “Kenny!!”
My voice just echoed back from the empty space of the park. No sounds at all. Panicking, I turned around and began to sprint as fast as I could back to my apartment, calling out people’s names as I ran.
Nobody answered.
