The Mover Ch. 02

I know this sounds funny, but the following evening I couldn't wait for Mike to come around. I was bursting with the news that only Mike would care to hear.

"Well, Penny Collins Lynch, you're here awfully late. How was your second day on your new job?

I swiveled my chair around to face him. How in the world could I have mistaken this man for a middle management officer? Mike looked as if he stepped out of time warp, like he'd stepped right out of Woodstock.

"Well, it seems that our administer is a man named Kevin Johnson. He's in Austin, Texas for a seminar. Our main office is in Austin."

"No wonder you were ignored yesterday. Everyone just assumed this Johnson guy had already opened a dialog with the new employee."

"Exactly, I said, "They weren't being mean; they just thought I was already up to speed, ready to take over this desk. Besides, they were saying good-bye to a friend and coworker. I can't blame them for that."

"Well, I can see that frown has disappeared. Just look at you! You look like a filly that's ready to run!"

"Oh, Mike, that just how I feel! It's wonderful to finally begin my job."

"Penny, that's so far out. Have you met the girls, yet?"

I could hardly contain my excitement. "Yes I did! Well, it was only for a moment, but I found out that their cubicles are right on the other side of mine. You were right; they seem very nice."

"Right on! So, did they show you the tools to access the program?"

There it was again, the dichotomy of his diction, but I was much too excited to think about it at the time.

"Well, we didn't have much time, I was leaving a meeting just as they were going in, but Patti showed me how to access the program. Now I can at least find out which of this stuff requires attention."

"So, now you can sort the seeds from the stems." There was that crooked smile, again. I had to laugh. In his funny way, Mike was kind of cute.

"I don't have the access codes yet, but at least I can get started. I'll be here late, tonight. The more folders I have in the system, the more I'll be able to process."

"Don't be too late; it's not good for you. Besides, when I run the vacuum cleaner, it's gonna be hard for you to concentrate."

"Oh, don't worry about me. I'm a veteran workaholic. I'm used to putting in long hours. I've always been this way.

At that moment, I'm not sure if I was trying to convince Mike or myself. There was a faint sadness to his smile which should have told me that it wasn't Mike who was being fooled.

* * * * *

Don's car was not in the driveway when Penny got home that night. Her poor, exhausted mind was a mixture of emotions. According to Don, it was she who drove him out of the house. He went to the Sports bar because he was bored, so lonely, that he couldn't stand to sit at home. Somewhere deep in her heart, Penny knew this wasn't true. Still, she was grateful for the chance to thoroughly clean her kitchen, to have a bite to eat and sleep in her own bed, if only for a few hours.

* * * * *

I said a small prayer when I heard the wheels squeaking on his trash barrel. I listened to the rustle of plastic waste basket liners as Mike made his way to my cubicle. His thin, haggard face and crooked smile was so welcome, it was as though someone had thrown me a life preserver. I don't know how I missed him last night; I was at my desk until midnight, but he never came.

"Hi Mike, I'm so happy to see you!"

"Well, I'm happy to see you, as well, Penny Collins-Lynch. Forgive me for being so forward, Penny dear, but you look exhausted. Are you getting enough sleep? I know you were here very late, last night. You've been keeping some long hours. Is everything alright?"

Mentally, I pushed Don and my miserable home life out of my mind and tried to focus on the business at hand. I must have looked awful. I'd been running on three or four hours of sleep and I was surrounded with stacks of folders and files, spread sheets and invoice orders.

"Oh, I sighed, "I'm just a little swamped, is all."

"I'm sorry, I'm intruding. I'll just get your waste basket and be on my way."

"No, please stay awhile; I'd like the company. There isn't much more I can do with this, anyway."

There was that look of concern again. His kindness was a soothing balm to my battered nerves.

"I thought the girls were helping you find the information you need. What's going on, what's wrong, Penny? I thought everything was going so well."

"Oh, they help me, Mike. Just when I think Patti or Debi has shown me what I need, I find that it's still incomplete and of little use. When I try to find them, they've all disappeared and I'm left to myself again."

"That doesn't sound like the girls, they seem so friendly."

"Yes Mike, they're all friendly, just not very nice. It feels like they are deliberately keeping me from learning my job."

Mike knelt until we were face to face. I noticed the lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes. He must have had his share of hard times, I thought to myself. With a thin smile, he confirmed my suspicions.

"Penny, I told you how I was treated when I first came here to the El Segundo facility. I soon came to realize my coworkers felt threatened by me. I wasn't like them; I read books while they played video games on the computers. I've learned over the years how to work smart. I know how to use my time wisely; I can do more work in less time than they've been accustomed. It's only natural that they would see me as a threat, or a disruption to their habits. I was a stick in their status quo."

I didn't fully comprehend at the time how Mike had turned the tables on me. Suddenly, it was I who felt sorry for him."

"Mike, that must have been terrible for you."

"It gets worse, dear. My supervisor, even the manager saw me as a threat. They weren't used to someone who could do his work so efficiently. They were definitely not prepared for a janitor who could use words with four syllables. I think that's what's happening to you. You've already shown that you are concise and articulate, it's only natural that they would think you might be raising the bar, causing them to rethink their own work habits."

For the first time, I noticed the picture on his employee badge. He looked completely different; his hair was short, he wore no glasses and the polo shirt he wore had the Ralph Lauren logo.

"So that's why you changed your appearance; that's why you sometimes use slang when you speak."

He smiled and said, "When in Rome..."

"So what do I do? I can't pretend to be a hippie just to please them!"

"Of course not, but what you can do is divide and conquer. Start with Patti and appeal to her ego. Folks just love to show off. Let her show off a little; show you how much she knows her job and the others will soon be falling over themselves to impress you."

Once again, with just a few kind words and a personal testimony, Mike had lifted my self esteem back where it belonged.

"Thank you, Mike. I needed to hear that."

"Anytime, Penny Collins-Lynch, I'm glad to help."

"Mike, do you work on the weekends?" If he said yes, I would need to come up with an explanation why I would be here at my desk.

"I'm off on Saturday and Sundays, but I'm usually helping someone move."

"Oh, I said, "I hate moving! Why on earth would you want to help someone move?" He smiled that crooked smile again.

"Because everyone hates to move; it's stressful and hard work. All too often, the friends who promised to help figure that the person moving has plenty of help, so they don't show up. There's been lot's of times when I'm the only one who does."

"You must have a lot of friends, if you're helping so many move."

"Not really, it's sort of escalated over the years. Once people realized that I never refuse to help and that I always show up, I began to get calls from friends of friends. Eventually, I was getting calls from friends of friends of the room mates of the folks I'd helped. Now, my old pickup and I stay pretty busy."

"How much do you charge to help?"

He laughed a merry chuckle and said, "I'm happy with a burger and fries, maybe a pizza if I'm lucky. They always promise to take me out to a nice restaurant, but I know that we're all going to be too tired and filthy for anything but fast food. I've gotten so good at this that I know when the stress has gotten the better of them. That's when I take over the moving and let them fret over the small stuff, like getting the utilities turned on."

"Well, you must be a saint, Mike. I don't know anyone who would do that."

Laughing again, he replied, "I'm no saint, Penny. I once read how farmers in the old days would all come to a new neighbor's place. In one day, they could build a barn that would have taken one man weeks, even months to build alone. Then, they would all sit down for a meal the women had been preparing all day. I look at moving in the same manner. Everyone wins, because they know that the day will come when they'll find themselves in need of help."

"Well Mike, if I ever need to move, I'm calling you first!"

With his crooked smile, he winked and said, "I'll remember that, Penny Collins-Lynch."

* * * * *

Penny spent the entire Saturday cleaning the house. She scrubbed floors, cleaned the stove, washed windows, cleaned the bathroom and dusted the furniture. Penny was as thorough with her housework as she was her job. All that remained was to vacuum the carpet and start the laundry. She planned those chores for later, so as not to disturb Don watching television.

She showered, dressed and put on her best cologne. She checked her makeup and went to join her husband on the sofa. She didn't expect a reaction from her kiss; after all, the game was on, so she waited for the commercial.

"Who's winning?" She asked.

"The Lakers are up, but I doubt they'll make the spread."

"Honey, I rented a movie, I thought we could make some popcorn and watch it tonight." Don's eyes never left the television.

"Sorry, babe, this is the playoffs. Nicks and Pistons come on tonight."

"I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together."

"So watch the game with me."

Penny eased closer to him and placed her head against his shoulder. She hoped her perfume would work the same magic it had in the past. In a sultry voice she purred, "I could make it worth your while, big boy."

He never took his eyes off the screen. He shrugged her off his shoulder and reached for his beer. "Yeah, right; like I'm going to miss the playoffs to watch some chick flick."

Penny realized it was useless to argue. She started to rise from the sofa and said, "Fine, you can watch your game. I might as well go into work and try to get some invoices entered into the system."

He was so fast, she never saw it coming. Suddenly, Don was on his feet. His face was inches from hers, his hand held her bicep in a viselike grip. Penny could only stare, wide eyed, while her husband seethed through clenched teeth.

"It's always your damn job, isn't it? Nothing matters to you except your damn job. Go ahead, go sit at your damn desk; go work on your own time when you should be at home with your husband. Go ahead, but don't expect me to be here when you get back. I'm going to the sports bar."

"Don, you're hurting me, let go of my arm!"

Don pushed her away, hard enough to send her falling onto the sofa. Penny watched, terrified of the anger in his eyes as he grabbed his coat and stormed out the front door. At least she wouldn't need to drive into El Segundo, she thought to herself.

Not prone to tears, Penny methodically began to sort the laundry. She separated the whites from the colors, the dark from the light, being careful to empty the pockets of Don's slacks. She placed the three poker chips from the casino on the top of the dryer alongside the plastic card for the hotel room. Hotels needn't worry about keys, nowadays. The plastic cards are disposable.