Pulpy and Midge (24 page)

‘I'm not really sure which mug you mean, Dan,' said Pulpy.

‘Brrr,' said Eduardo. ‘It's cold up here, isn't it? I wish I'd brought
my
jacket to my desk.'

Pulpy frowned at him.

‘You know –' Dan rapped the top of Pulpy's monitor. ‘“My schedule's full”?'

Pulpy chewed on his upper lip. ‘Oh, you mean the receptionist's mug.'

Dan stared at him. ‘Could I see you in my office, please?'

Eduardo smirked.

Pulpy watched him over his shoulder as he followed his boss down the hall.

Dan sat at his desk and turned to his computer screen. He gave the Return key a couple of light taps and said, ‘I'm onto you, Pulpy.'

Pulpy squirmed in the leather lounger. ‘What do you mean?'

‘You've got a thing for that secretary and it's tearing you apart. It's tearing your marriage apart.'

Pulpy blinked at him. ‘No, I don't.'

Dan increased his pressure on the Return key. His tone was low and measured. ‘Then why do you care if she's leaving?'

‘Because she didn't do anything wrong. I just feel bad for her.'

‘Did you hear anything when you came in this morning? That's right, you didn't. You didn't hear the Winter Flute, that's for sure, because she disconnected the wires. What kind of a person doesn't like the Winter Flute? I've tried to hook it back up but I can't, so now I need to get the guy back in. But until then, no music. She stopped the music for everyone.'

‘I think she was worried about electrocution.'

‘Then what was she doing messing with the wires? She's a menace, that woman, and I'm glad she's going. She's been poisoning our work environment, Pulpy – she is a toxic employee. You can't approach her. You can't ask her to do anything. And you'd better not touch her duck mug, because if you do you're in big trouble. You are in
big
trouble.'

‘But
you
touched it,' said Pulpy. ‘You took it.'

‘So what?' Dan's phone rang but he ignored it. ‘So what if I did?'

Pulpy focused on Dan's mouse pad, with the lion who would rather be at the watering hole. The big cat was smiling with sharp, sharp teeth. ‘Why do you hate her so much?'

Dan picked up his phone. ‘Hello? Oh, hi.' He frowned. ‘Yeah, he's here. Why? Yeah, hold on.' He activated the speakerphone. ‘It's Beatrice,' he said to Pulpy. ‘For you.'

‘Pulpy!' said Beatrice. ‘I'm at Passionate Bath!'

Pulpy leaned closer to the phone. ‘Where?'

‘Listen, I need your advice. I'm buying a parting gift for the secretary.'

‘You're buying her a
what
?' said Dan.

‘Why are you asking me?' said Pulpy.

‘You're friends with her, aren't you?'

‘Ah,' he said, and sat up a bit straighter. ‘Well, I guess I am, yes. We're friends.' He thought about the receptionist's rude forward, which he still hadn't deleted.

‘So what kind of bath products do you think she likes to use?'

He considered that for a second. ‘Do they have any Tropical Mist?'

‘What the hell does she need a parting gift for?' said Dan. ‘We're talking immediate dismissal. We're talking walking papers. We're talking termination here, for – We are not talking about anything that involves a
gift.
' He furrowed his brow at his red-and-white mug.

‘She took that course to better herself,' said Pulpy.

‘I told her not to go,' Dan said slowly, ‘and she didn't listen to me.'

‘Well, anyway, I think Beatrice has the right idea.'

‘Thank you, Pulpy,' said Beatrice. ‘I was actually thinking about buying her some spray lotion.'

‘We'll just see about that,' said Dan. ‘We will just see what
I
have to say about
that.
'

‘Is that possible?' said Pulpy. ‘Can you spray a lotion?'

‘There's three kinds here,' said Beatrice. ‘Vanilla, peach and Brazil nut.'

‘Get the peach.'

‘You think the peach? I was more thinking the Brazil nut. Brazil nut is big now, especially the butter – they lathered it all over me at the spa. But I did ask your opinion, so I'll get the peach. I'll get the medium size because the large is too expensive.'

‘The large would be a nice gesture,' said Pulpy. ‘And you should probably pick up a cake.'

‘No cake,' she said. ‘She doesn't deserve a cake.'

Dan bounced his fist off his desk. ‘Now, that is more like it!'

‘I'll be there in an hour or so,' she said.

‘We're doing the Frisbee picks in twenty minutes,' said Dan. ‘I need you here sooner.'

‘Then do the Frisbee picks
later,
' said Beatrice.

‘I said twenty minutes!'

Pulpy stood up. ‘I'd better get working on that sign-up sheet.'

‘An hour at the
least,
' she said.

Pulpy stood next to Dan at the front of the boardroom with the rest of the workers ringed around them in a horseshoe formation.

Roy from Customer Service was beside Cheryl from Active Recovery and Carmelita from the Parts Department, and all of them were giving Pulpy sympathetic looks. Eduardo stood with his arms crossed, sneering.

Dan cleared his throat. ‘There are a few issues I plan on raising at this meeting. I know that may sound obvious, but these are things that are on my mind and in order to clear it I have to raise them.'

One of the fluorescent ceiling tiles was flickering, casting shadows over the faces of Pulpy's co-workers. He looked away from all the down-turned mouths and toed the thin carpet.

‘I mean, you really have to wonder about people who don't care about their place of work,' said Dan. ‘Don't you have to wonder? I said to Pulpy, “This is unacceptable, and we need to take action.” “What kind of action?” he said to me. “Serious action,” I told him.'

Pulpy could feel everyone's eyes on him and he turned to his boss. ‘I don't really remember that conversation, Dan.'

‘You were probably drunk.' Dan addressed the assembled employees. ‘Pulpy and I go drinking together, did you all know that? This man here has the inside track on pretty much the whole shebang. I confide in him and he confides in me.'

Eduardo started to sneeze into his hand but, to Pulpy's horror, the word ‘blow job' came out instead.

‘Now, see?' Dan pointed at him. ‘That's your problem right there, that kind of ignorance. Just because two men get together for a few stiff shots does not imply anything more than that.'

Eduardo guffawed loudly and a few other employees, including Jim from Packaging, tittered.

Pulpy scuffed his feet on the carpet some more and felt a static charge building up in him. The air ducts made rushing and rattling sounds overhead.

‘But you know what? That kind of acting out doesn't faze men like me and Pulpy. Because the only way to get by in this world is to keep your sense of humour. And the way to accomplish
that
is –' Dan reached over and put his arm around Pulpy's shoulders. ‘Pulpy?'

‘To play Frisbee,' said Pulpy in a very small voice.

‘That's right!' Dan punched the air. ‘And now I'm going to turn the floor over to our Frisbee team captain so he can sort out the teams.'

‘In case you didn't notice,' said Eduardo, ‘it's snowing outside.'

More laughter.

‘Oh, I noticed,' said Dan. ‘And it's comments like
that
that separate the clowns from the ringmasters.'

Eduardo furrowed his brow. ‘What does that mean?'

Pulpy noticed something red in a far corner of the board-room, and realized it was one of Al's retirement balloons. It still had quite a bit of air left in it, and it bobbed with the slight breeze of so many shuffling feet.

‘The earlier we choose our teams, the earlier we rally our team spirit. Which is exactly what we need around here. An injection of oomph.'

‘I'll give you an injection of oomph,' Eduardo muttered.

Dan tilted his rectangular head so that one side of his neck was stretched taut. ‘Haven't you already been doing that to someone else, Eduardo?'

A ripple of murmurs passed around the semicircle.

Eduardo reddened and aimed a glare at Pulpy.

Then the boardroom door flew open and Beatrice sashayed in with an armload of shopping bags. ‘Sorry I'm late, everyone. Whose team am I on?'

‘You're on Eduardo's team,' said Pulpy.

She jutted her hip out sideways. ‘Am I now?'

Eduardo growled and walked out of the room.

Pulpy looked at Dan, but he was looking at his wife and smiling.

‘I didn't think you'd make it,' he said.

Beatrice rolled her eyes. ‘Don't go getting all grateful on me. I'm not here because of
you.
' She blew a kiss at Pulpy. ‘I came to support our captain!'

The smile died on Dan's face as quickly as it had sprouted there.

‘Okay!' Pulpy clapped his hands together. ‘Let's get back to picking those teams!'

After the picking was over, Pulpy sat at his desk and pulled out his keyboard tray. It clacked and rattled and banged onto his knees and he said, ‘This is ridiculous.' He got off his chair and crawled under the desk and flipped onto his back. He squinted up at the underside of the tray, where it fit into the docking device. ‘It's not level,' he said, and reached up and moved the tray along and off the track and then into the proper position, higher up. He checked to see that the grooves were aligned on both sides, then crawled back out, brushed himself off and sat down in his chair to test his work. The tray slid out smoothly and noiselessly and there was now a good
inch between it and his knees. He slid his keyboard tray in and out, enjoying the easy motion.

Then he thought about the receptionist leaving, and he thought about going downstairs and saying goodbye. He would give her the mug back and that would make her so happy. ‘Could I ask you something?' he would say.

She'd look at him. ‘What is it?'

‘Your name,' he'd say. ‘You told me once but I forgot it.'

‘Oh,' she'd say, and smile. ‘It's –' And she would tell him her name.

‘That's a nice name,' he would tell the receptionist.

‘Thank you,' she'd say. ‘Thank you, Pulpy.'

‘What did you think you were trying to pull in there?' said a low voice behind him.

Pulpy turned quickly to see Eduardo sneering around the partition. ‘Nothing,' he said. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.'

‘Didn't I tell you not to mess with me? What goes on between yours truly and the boss's wife is
private.
'

Pulpy's palms went cold and he pressed them against the fabric of his chair. ‘Are you sure about that?'

Eduardo wheeled closer, his shoes smacking out a staccato on the plastic floor mat. ‘What the hell are you playing at, Pulpy?'

‘Dan
knows,
Eduardo. And not because I told him.' He was sweating now, an icy sweat that felt like it could freeze his collar to his neck.

Eduardo blinked. ‘How would he know if you didn't tell him?'

‘They have an
arrangement.
' Pulpy formed his mouth around the shape of the word. ‘And if you want to know something else, you're not the only one.'

His co-worker's flashlight eyes dimmed. ‘What?'

‘Why don't you give Building Maintenance a call? Tell them you need something fixed.' Pulpy reached into his coat and took out the mug. ‘See you later, Eduardo.' He pushed back his chair and stood up.

‘Yeah.' Eduardo was staring across the room toward Dan's office, his hands clasped together in his lap. ‘See you.'

‘I would've thought they'd do a cake,' said the receptionist.

She was sitting in her chair with her coat on. Her now-full cardboard box was on the floor by her feet.

‘Don't forget your international garden calendar,' he said.

‘It can stay.' She waved a hand at February's flowers, all lined up with their faces pointed toward the sun. ‘I was using it to count down the days before I was out of here, so I guess I don't need it anymore. I took everything else.' Her desk was empty now except for her computer, her phone and a red bag with crinkly silver paper poking out the top.

Pulpy pointed to it. ‘What's in there?' His other hand was behind his back.

She sneered. ‘My parting gift. It's peach spray. She hands it to me and says, “Here you go.” She just hands it to me like that – no ceremony or anything. I would've thought a cake, at least.'

‘She gave you the peach spray,' he said. ‘Everybody likes peach.'

‘It's peach spray
lotion.
' She made a face. ‘Who ever heard of lotion you spray on? I'm leaving it here. I don't want it in my house because it stinks. It stinks and it's cheap and it would give me hives.'

‘It's peach.'

‘Exactly. And I didn't even get a card. Everybody else gets a card when they leave.' She put her hands on her desk and pushed the bag aside. ‘I thought at least they'd do a cake for me.'

Pulpy stood there feeling sad for her. ‘People are talking about you leaving. I heard someone say they'd miss the way you did things.'

‘Really?' She looked a bit happier. ‘Who said that?'

‘I just heard it,' he said. ‘I didn't see who it came from.'

‘I hate this place,' she said.

He crossed one foot over the other. ‘I got you something.'

‘You did?'

‘I found it, actually.' And he brought his hand around and gave her the duck mug.

She put both hands around the mug and pressed it down hard on her desk. ‘Where?'

He cleared his throat carefully. ‘Dan had it.'