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CYNTHIA’S UNHAPPINESS had reached unprecedented heights.
Nothing, she decided, was worse than coming back from an amazing weekend to find a forlorn cubicle the following Monday morning.
That weekend, she and Daniel assisted a team of lawyers in building a case for a class action against Bosphorus, a company selling a pesticide causing pregnant women to give birth to handicapped children.
Monday morning, however, she drafted a memo for a big company needing advice on how to circumvent tax laws, all the while staying within the confines of the law.
For the last two weeks, Cynthia had not slept for over a couple of hours a night.
“Cynthia, I read your memo,” Mrs. Mendez said, peering over the cubicle.
“How bad was it?” Cynthia asked, expecting a tirade of criticism.
“Not bad. Just not perfect. After you change what I underlined and commented on, it will be. You’re going out for lunch?” Mrs. Mendez asked.
“No, I’m just going to have a sandwich from the vending machine. I brought a salad, but it’s too cold. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking I’d invite you to lunch if I heard that sad tale. You win, you’re having lunch with me.”
“Oh no, I promise, I wasn’t fishing for an invitation.”
“I know. I came to your cubicle with the intention of inviting you to lunch.”
“I don’t want to be rude, but I have a lot of work.”
Mrs. Mendez frowned and Cynthia squirmed.
“It’ll be here when you come back.” Mrs. Mendez closed Cynthia’s file with a firm hand. “Nobody says no to me.”
Cynthia nodded and gathered her things.
Once they were seated in a Chinese restaurant, Mrs. Mendez ordered enough food to nourish a continent.
Cynthia was too nervous to eat. She had no idea what she would say to Mrs. Mendez during the entire lunch hour.
Luckily, at the fast pace her boss was eating, the meal would not last long.
“You’re probably wondering how I eat all this and stay so thin?”
“You throw up afterwards?” Cynthia suggested, before she’d thought thoroughly of what she was saying.
Mrs. Mendez laughed a strong, guttural laugh.
“Ten years ago, that answer would’ve been right. Not anymore. I have this incredible metabolism, though I didn’t believe that back then. I also work out a lot. When you’re in a position of power, you not only have to be strong, you have to appear strong as well.”
Cynthia gazed at Mrs. Mendez’ broad shoulders and could tell the woman told the truth.
“You don’t look very strong physically,” Mrs. Mendez added. “How you dare go about the world with such a frail figure, I don’t know. Your mind is strong. But your body is weak.”
“I know how to defend myself. My mom made us take self-defense classes.”
“Good. Never count on that husband of yours to defend you. Men have made us believe for too long that they were the strongest. In fact, most of them would be scared to death if they found themselves confronting an aggressor. They’d flee without looking behind.”
“I doubt Daniel would do that. But, well, I was taught that a woman should know how to take care of herself in every way: financially and physically.”
“Your mother must be an interesting woman. I find they are rare. But the women I get along with are the best people on Earth.”
Cynthia ate silently.
“What did you do this weekend?”
Cynthia’s eyes shone as she explained the case she against the company selling harmful pesticide.
“Of course, I can’t say who is involved in this case. Secret. But it was just so interesting and I felt useful. I met the children’s parents. Not all of them. But can you imagine? It was so awful the guilt they felt. They had no idea that pesticide even existed or that it could potentially harm their children.”
“Why do you love hopeless cases so much?”
“They’re not hopeless. Those people aren’t. And I like to bring hope.”
“You mean, you like building their hopes up before dashing them back to the ground.”
“You don’t think they have a chance?”
“They have a chance of losing a lot of money they don’t have. Do you know how much these corporations make? What am I saying? We take care of their taxes and financial interests, of course you know how much they make.”
“This is why knowledge of the law comes in handy. If we who know it can’t help those who don’t, why are we lawyers?”
“I forget how young you are. That look of despair you have behind your cubicle makes it seem like you’ve been here forever.”
Cynthia frowned.
“But you haven’t,” Mrs. Mendez continued. “You don’t know this world like I do. Don’t you think I had your ideals when I started out?”
“They’re not ideals. I mean, they are, but please, don’t use that word like it’s an insult. If people before us had not had ideals, we would have no rights at all neither in the workplace nor in our day-to-day lives. Someone’s got to do it!”
“Why should it be you? Once I decided I didn’t have to be a savior, I felt free. Wanting to be a hero is the stuff of proud people. You want people to thank you, to celebrate you?”
“All I want is to make more people happy.”
“If that company goes bankrupt because of you, then the CEO commits suicide and leaves his wife, mistress, and kids to fend for themselves in this cruel word, would your client’s win make up for their suffering?”
Cynthia thought for a minute before answering.
“I don’t wish anyone to suffer. This isn’t a revenge plot. It’s a case. These are victims that require compensation for their suffering. A suffering they did not deserve and had no choice but to endure. The CEO knew this pesticide was nefarious. I don’t wish him any personal harm, but he must pay for this crime.”
“You’re passionate and I admire that. But these people should have had more knowledge. Knowledge is power, I’m sure you know this.”
“We can’t know everything. None of us do.”
“I know enough to save my own self. I eat only organic foods. None of that genetically modified garbage and that fast food junk. I have a house in the countryside to avoid pollution. I don’t smoke and drink only occasionally. The things I don’t know, I pay for someone who does. This world is a battlefield. Those who don’t understand that shouldn’t come crying when hell breaks loose. Do you think I fear climate change? I’ve already saved up for my ticket to space for when that happens. It’s over fifty million dollars. That’s how rich I am.
I’ll be the wealthy Titanic passenger who mounts a lifeboat while the ship is sinking, while the poor ones aren’t even allowed on it, even though there’s enough space for them. That’s how you prepare when you’re aware. You make enough money so that no one can harm you. Even if it’s the end of the world and your enemy is the very air you breathe. I’ll be the hero in those post-apocalyptic movies. The one who escapes it all with his wife, bratty son and teenage daughter. And you? Let me guess. You’ll be one of those extras who gets swallowed by the earthquake just as the hero jumps on the last spaceship for Mars.”
Cynthia shook her head, dismayed.
“I might not make it on the spaceship. But thanks to people like me who fight for those who don’t know, who can’t know, even those who don’t care, there might not be any need for that space ticket. And you get to keep that fifty million you’ve worked so hard for. Spend it on something else.”
Mrs. Mendez laughed.
“I like you.”
Unfortunately, Cynthia could not say the same. She loathed Mrs. Mendez and was happy once she was back at her desk.
Looking at the pile of work awaiting her, she sighed.
She just might buy a one-way ticket to Mars if it meant leaving all this work behind.