The Mover Ch. 01

I'm not prone to tears. It takes a lot to make this girl cry. I know that people look at me and think of me as a small, submissive little girl, but let me tell you, buster, there's a lot of fight in this little cookie! I don't give up easily, but the day I met Mike, I was just about ready to throw in the towel.

"What's the matter; couldn't they find you a broom closet? If this is too spacious for you, I can get you one."

"I beg your pardon?" I nearly jumped out of my chair, he startled me so. He laughed, and when he smiled I noticed that his teeth were crooked. There was a twinkle in his blue eyes that told me he meant no harm.

"I didn't mean to startle you; it's just that there are other cubicles available, why would they put you in this? This is the smallest cubicle in my area."

to be continued

I made a brave effort to compose myself. So much had happened that day, I'd already met so many new faces, all with different titles and positions. He said this was his area. Was he some kind of section head? That couldn't be, a section head wouldn't be dressed like this man.

He looked to be about fifty. He was tall and bone thin. His hair was stringy, shoulder length and held out of his face with a pony tail. A long sleeved t-shirt with a Grateful Dead logo, faded Levis and funny looking suede boots completed his costume, for that's the only way to describe it. Add the round gold granny glasses, the little strand of beads and he was the perfect hippie, just a little long in the tooth and forty years out of his era.

"I'm Penny Collins-Lynch; this is my first day, so forgive me if I don't know you." I extended my hand and noticed for the first time that he was wearing leather work gloves. He removed his right glove and shook my hand. His hand was as soft and warm as his crooked smile.

"Well, Penny Collins-Lynch, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Mike, and I'm also the last person whose name you'll need to remember. "However, he smiled, "I doubt that you will; I'm the one who has to empty your waste basket."

Well, okay, he was only the janitor, but I needed a friend and he was handy. This had been one of the worst days of my life. I'd shaken hands with so many faces, today. I'd had so many people tell me that all I needed was a little time to adjust. Mike was the first person to mention my tiny little cubicle. He was right, in a sea of two hundred cubicles; mine was the last cell in the last corner of the building and at least half the size of the rest.

"I'm sorry to bother you, you must be anxious to get out of here. I'll bet you've had a long day." He reached around the corner and pulled a plastic barrel on wheels toward him. The barrel had a plastic apron that contained a variety of cleaning products, feather dusters and rags. Suddenly, I didn't want him to leave. I had piles of work on my desk, but I felt it was more important to talk to someone, even if it was only the janitor. Besides, I realized that he might be of assistance.

"No wait, I said, "You're not bothering me. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mike. I'd offer you a chair, but as you can see..."

"Don't worry about me. Trust me, I have all the time in the world to sit and chat, but if you're ever busy and want me to take a hike, just say the word and I'm gone. The last thing I want to do is keep you from your work or from getting out of here."

"Thanks, Mike, that's very considerate of you. Have you worked here long?"

"This December, I'll celebrate twenty-six years with the company. Of course, it was Hughes Aircraft then. I started to work the night John Lennon was killed."

"Wow, that's a long time! You must know everyone in the company."

"Not really. I was transferred to this facility five years ago, when the Fullerton plant was torn down."

"It's interesting that you consider five years to be a short time, but I was wondering if you might be able to help me."

"I like helping people, it's what I do best. What can I do for you?"

I took a deep breath and plunged in, hoping for the best. "Would you happen to know who the ad officer is?"

"The what?"

"I mean the Administrator, the person in charge of this department." He smiled and looked a little sheepish as he replied.

"Penny, I've been dusting toy tanks, cleaning glass cabinets full of widgets and vacuuming floors in offices and laboratory clean rooms for twenty-five years. I've never paid any attention to what I was cleaning. I'm sorry, but I have no idea what this department is or what it does."

As I've said, I'm not one to cry, but at that moment I could have burst into tears. I pride myself on being able to conceal my emotions, but I wasn't fooling Mike. I realized that I was being pitied by the janitor! I felt like falling through the floor and into oblivion. Mike's friendly demeanor turned instantly into one of concern. He bent at the waist and peered into my eyes. Since that day, I pray that others will find in my own eyes at least a fraction of the compassion that shone through those funny spectacles.

"I'm so sorry, dear; I didn't intend to be so insensitive."

"Oh, it's not you, it's this." I swept my hand across my desk, across the stacks of folders, spreadsheets and my two computer monitors. "I have all of this work I'm expected to do, and I can't do it!"

"Sure you can, this is your first day, you just need to adapt to your new environment. You'll do fine, I know you will."

"That's all I've heard since I walked in the door. You don't understand! I know what to do, and it's making me crazy because I can't!"

"Why, dear, why can't you?"

"Because I don't know the codes; I don't even have the passwords to get into the programs."

"Isn't there someone who can help you with this? How about the guy that hired you?"

"That's all he does, Mike. He hires people that are qualified for the job, and that's all he does. Even if he could help, I wouldn't know how to contact him."

"Surely, they wouldn't just stick you in this egg carton and expect you to know their protocol."

The thought of a janitor using the word protocol in that text passed quickly through my mind, as well as the way his speech pattern fluctuated between concise and articulate to just plain slang, but I felt compelled to make him understand that I was qualified to do this job.

"They gave me someone, alright. Her name was Denise. She was supposed to show me what to do before she retired. But four hours ago Denise left me here to attend her retirement luncheon. She wished me good luck and said that she wasn't coming back. Now I can't pin anyone down to show me the things I need. Everyone I've tried to speak with has patted me on the head and said, "Relax, you'll get along fine."

I wanted to reach for a tissue, but I didn't want him to know that I needed one. As if having read my mind, he pulled a Kleenex from the box and handed it to me.

"Penny, dear, I know that my problems don't have the same magnitude as yours, but I had a lot of trouble when I was transferred from Fullerton. I have at least as many years with the company as my coworkers, so they all expected me to know what to do. If I asked where a certain room was, or even where to find a mop, they would roll their eyes at each other like I was an idiot."

"Oh my God, do they still treat you that way?"

He laughed and said, "They don't know how to treat me, now. Eventually, I learned my way around enough to demonstrate that my work ethics and my abilities were more than sufficient to do my job. The same thing will happen to you, for sure." He pronounced it 'fir shure.'

"Well, I said as I wadded the tissue in my hands, "That's comforting to know for the future, but I need some answers for the present."

"Penny, there are three ladies who work here, Patti, Sheri and Debi. Oh man, it sounds like I'm presenting the Mouseketeers! Anyway, they're all really nice. I'm here until midnight, and they often stay late. If I see them before you, would you like me to ask them to speak with you?"

"That would be great. I have to be in meetings all day; I don't know when I'll get to meet them, so I'd really appreciate the help. Besides, I'm used to working late. I'm sort of a workaholic, myself"

"Then it's settled. Now, I'd like to ask a favor from you."

He'd caught me off guard. "Sure, anything; what can I do for you?"

He smiled that crooked smile at me and said, "Would you please not drop your paperclips on the carpet? They clog up my vacuum cleaner."

I gave him a little smile of my own, perhaps the first sincere smile of that long, hard day.

* * * * *

Penny Lynch got home around midnight. Thank God, the market stayed open all night. She dropped her purse and bulky briefcase on the sofa and dragged the groceries into the kitchen. She looked at the dirty dishes and sighed, wondering if it wasn't better to come home to find that Don was out. At least the kitchen would be clean. She cleaned the counter with a lick and a promise, and started to prepare Don's dinner for tomorrow night. She grabbed a bagel and collapsed on the sofa. She awoke four hours later, with Don shaking her to get up and make his breakfast.