The Card
“As one caring community, we reach to help those with words of peace, arms of love, and the tenderness of a loving parent. We are servants, given our work because of the needs of others. We respect and honor those who provide us our jobs.”
Bullshit.
That was the best word to describe it, but it was what she’d been fed for years as a public servant, and some days it was hard not to buy into he crazy. Other days, she considered cashing in her pension early and just making due with what she had, but the truth was she needed the money after the divorce and the state wasn’t so bad to work for as long as she kept her head down and didn’t do anything out of the ordinary.
It was a strange thing, having the ambition and drive sucked right out of her. She’d been more than pleased to accept her position ten years ago, hoping that even in her administrative role, she’d be able to help make the state a safer place, to help those who needed it. The pure amount of red tape she encountered, along with the back-stabbery and playing favorites she saw on a daily basis quickly convinced her of the virtues that went along with keeping her mouth shut, but not soon enough to keep her marriage afloat. The job had made her just too bitter.
Billy was a good man – he had done his best, but they had gone different directions in life, and there came a certain point where holding on became more trouble than letting go. She hadn’t seen him in five years, but the last she’d heard, he was playing in a band up near Tuscaloosa. Hopefully she was happy.
“Pam?” Reid’s voice cut through her memories, bringing her back to the drab furniture and poor lighting of the government office. “Just a small observation, here – what you’re doing right now isn’t in line with our new words.”
She swallowed the first reply that came to mind, one that was very specific about what her supervisor could do with his words, and instead forced a smile. “Sorry, Reid,” she said brightly, “just having an off day.”
“I understand,” the thin man said too smoothly, kneeling down next to her chair. She knew he had no interest in her, physically, but all of the management training he’d been given made him seem like a creep. She wasn’t sure who organized or ran the sessions Reid and the other higher-ups were supposed to attend, but they needed to be taken to task – there was no way she’d ever trust anyone that acted the way they were training the current crop of managers. “But we’re going to need you to improve your game today, Pam. We have important people to serve.” His eyes lit up. “The public!”
She stifled a laugh. They were both members of the public when they went home at night, and took off the small flag pins they were required to wear, but she was sure she wouldn’t get the level of service Reid was talking about if she walked into any state facility.
“Pam,” his eyes narrowed, “we’re going to need to have a chat. Close your station and come with me.”
She sighed and shut down her computer, then followed Reid into his small office and took a seat.
“Please, close the door,” Reid said quietly, and she shook her head.
“Not a chance. The Collective Agreement specifically states that’s against policy, and I’m not going to be the one who violates it.”
He glowered at her, an almost comical thing with his pale lips, and she sighed loudly. Getting fired hadn’t been her plan when she’d gotten up for work in the morning, but it was looking more likely as the day when on.
“Pam, why are you so angry? Have you not been reading the mandatory literature provided?”
She shook her head in disbelief. Even in private, Reid was still towing the party line. How could he not see that what he was being fed was nonsense?
“Reid, listen to me,” she leaned forward, “all these notes and directives and cards they’re sending around are senseless. You know that – or at least you used to.” He had been one of her co-workers, years ago, but had kissed the right butts in the right place to get promoted, though he’d been as cynical as she ever was.
“I…” he hesitated, and she could see him tense in his seat. “It’s just that…” He put both hands on his desk, eyes going wide, and there was a sudden buzzing sound, as if a giant bee was trapped in the room, hidden under Ried’s desk. There was sweat on her supervisor’s face now, beads forming at his hairline that began to drip down toward his nose. His nails were digging deep scratches into the faux-wood of his desk, and it was obvious he was in some kind of physical pain. Serious physical pain.
“Reid” She cried. “Are you alright?”
“I’m –“ he was forcing the words through clenched teeth, “fine. I’m just happy to be at work here in our community, and I just feel for you, wish you could understand what we’re trying to build here.” With each word, she could see him relax, see the tension drain from his face.
“Of course,” she said quickly. “I understand. I’ll do better, I promise. Don’t you worry about me.” She stood before he had a chance to object and dashed back into the hallway. Billy had always been the one with the conspiracy theories, not her, all for living off the grid and getting away from government involvement, and he’d said there was something odd about Reid right after he got promoted.
She needed to make a phone call. She needed to get away.
- D
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