Twilight Zone

For the fifth straight day my stomach was rumbling and doing somersaults like the circus had come to town. I’d been popping antacids all day and nothing had worked. The only relief would come when Ray started answering one of the twenty e-mails I’d sent him about the reports on the Simmons Mattress account, or decided to leave his door open long enough so that I could stick my head in. I felt like he was avoiding me like the plague. It wasn’t my imagination. These days I wasn’t feeling very liked around the office or at home. Even Sherri hadn’t troubled me with a visit. Was it possible to miss even the things that bring annoyance, in longing for the familiar?

I’d left messages for both John and Lenny asking for a light informal meeting to see if they’d made a decision yet about the account manager position, with no response. If I wasn’t still making it home every day to feel the warmth of my cocker spaniel, I’d think I was in the Twilight Zone. “Where is everybody!” I’d scream at the top of my lungs, and keep screaming while Rod Serling came out wearing his usual coal black suit with his shiny black hair parted on the side and melted to his head.

Rod Serling would give his overall assessment of my situation in the flat monotone voice he used to introduce every episode of the weekly program. “A young woman caught in the spiral of the corporate ladder. Trapped by her ambition, aspiring too high, too quickly? Will she learn the value of staying in her place? For what would the world be without the little people to do the grunt work, and the big people taking all the credit?” He would turn around and look at the black-and-white scene of me trapped at my desk, then shake his head in pity before returning to talk into the camera. “We will find out in the Twilight Zone.”

I couldn’t go on like this. That’s all I knew. My belly was going to explode with the acids of self-doubt and confusion. Where did I go wrong? Was it the confrontation with Ray in the parking garage? It seemed like we were back on solid ground, the rose, and the apology. Or maybe it was the brainstorming session that I took upon myself to have with the CEO of St. John’s.

The CEO of St. John’s? Would I have had the same spunk and determination to corner him with my ideas if he were not black? Did I completely overstep my bounds by just assuming I could have my way with his time and attention because of our imaginary association? Did he walk in here the next day and demand I be terminated for talking too fast and driving too slow and taking up his time?

The intercom buzzed, interrupting my thoughts of drinking the last drop of Mylanta sitting in the bottle on my desk. I reached for the phone and answered as if the governor were calling to give a stay of execution.

“Yes.”

“Venus, it’s John. Are you available for a two o’clock meeting this afternoon? Lenny and I would like to meet with you. Shouldn’t take more than an hour . . . tops.”

“That’s fine. Will we be meeting in your office or the conference room?”

He muzzled the phone before answering. He could only be conferring with his left brain, Lenny. “My office. Okay? See you at two.”

This was it. Finally. I was relieved. I didn’t care what they had to say, I only wanted them to say something. If I was going to be kicked out on my duff, so be it. I just needed to know so the suffering could be put to an end. Someone like me can’t live without a constant source of information. Information is my power, my sustenance. Some people need cigarettes, or caffeine. I need to know. I looked at my watch and wrote down “2:00” on the calendar on my desk. The month of December was blank, no meetings or appointments scheduled. My life was the sum total of my desk-long, desk-wide monthly planner and it was completely empty, except for the 2:00 I’d just written, and the lunch date I’d had with Ray that turned out to be a bombardment. I scanned the rest of the days with my finger and stopped at Christmas.

I had completely forgotten about the beginning of the holiday season. In less than two weeks I’d have to face my parents. They would see me without my armor, without Clint, without my hair. They’d just see me.

After chipping off the tips of every fingernail, I started my walk to John’s office. I walked right past Sherri, who must’ve been wearing blinders because she hadn’t looked up to see who was passing her air space. I moved slowly but steadily past Ray’s double doors that were shut tight. Two doors down, I passed Saige in the accounting department training another new girl that no one bothered to introduce to me. I continued walking but I couldn’t feel my feet. For the first time in a long time, I admired the mauve and teal walls filled with an extensive collection of watercolor paintings. I decided right then to add some mauve to my walls at home, maybe sponged. I’d do it this weekend.

I stopped in front of John’s door and knocked lightly before letting myself in. “Hi, it’s me,” I said as I slid in the door.

“Come in, Venus. Have a seat.” John was sitting at his desk that is too large for his body. I turned to close the door and saw Ray sitting casually with his long legs crossed. He smiled and gave me a wave. I decided to sit in the chair instead of on the couch where Ray’s arms had taken over the entire span of the backrest.

“We’re waiting for Lenny and then we’ll get started.” John’s voice broke through my mind-reading attempts on Ray. I still couldn’t figure out why he had been avoiding me all week and now sat there as if nothing was wrong.

“Oh, I’m not in a hurry,” I said, trying to sound as carefree and relaxed as possible.

“I didn’t get a chance to e-mail you back on that Simmons report, Venus, but yes, I did receive it. It looks great.” Ray’s poor attempt to make small talk only made me more distrustful of him. I wanted to tell him that was over four days ago and I really didn’t give a rat’s tail what he thought.

“Thank you,” I spoke between my sparkling gritted teeth.

“So, Venus, whatcha got planned for the holidays?” John interrupted my telepathic efforts once again.

“I’ll probably be going back to LA to see my folks for a couple of days.” I interlocked my hands around my knees to stop them from shaking. “And you?”

“I really don’t know. The Missiz makes all the plans in our house. I haven’t been given the agenda yet.” He leaned into his phone and pressed the intercom. “Lenny, are you joining us?” There was no answer, but the door opened suddenly.

“Sorry I’m late. How ya doing there, Venus?”

“I’m fine, Lenny. How are you?”

“Good, good, can’t complain.” He moved quicker than John. They were both in their early forties, but John always seemed like he was on his last leg while Lenny exuded the life force.

“Well, we’re all here, so let’s begin.” John pulled out a thin file from out of his desk. Out of nowhere, Ray and Lenny were holding the same type of manila folder.

“Excuse me, John, um, do I need any of the information that you have there? I don’t seem to have a copy.”

The beating of my heart was too loud. The sound was making me strain to hear myself speak.

“Actually, I don’t have another copy. Maybe you can look on with Ray.”

I turned in his direction and made myself comfortable next to him on the couch. The heat from his body was a complication I would have to endure. I was determined to see what was in that file.

“Okay, are we all set?” John asked. “If you’ll notice, Venus, this is a little list Ray went ahead and compiled for us of maybe the last ten or so analyses you’ve run this past year. You could say it’s a year-end review type of thing. We just wanted to go over some of our findings with you.” He cleared his throat and began speaking even slower. “If you’ll notice to the right of each report, we have a percentile that tells us the accuracy of the findings.” My eyes steered to the right and then quickly scanned down. Twenty percent, eighteen percent, six percent, twenty-one percent. Nothing over twenty-five percent. They were trying to make me look incompetent. Pure and simple.

“Exactly what are these numbers trying to say, and what did you use to measure them?” My voice wavered a little. I looked Ray straight in the eye when I spoke, but he looked only at John and Lenny when he replied.

“Well, I simply took the reported sales of the product and cross-referenced it with a random sample of the consumers who purchased the product, and measured their profile with the one given in your analysis.”

“I can’t see how that kind of measurement should reflect on my reports. There are just too many variables in the purchase of a product by a consumer. Too many to even name. I mean that’s an area that hasn’t been touched in even the largest companies. I don’t understand why you’re suddenly attempting to judge my work by this standard.” My hand was visibly shaking so I let go of my end of the file. I dropped my hands down into my lap.

“I mean we’re in the business of advertising. How the product is sold, when, and where isn’t our responsibility, and you certainly can’t expect it to be purchased only by the people who are targeted.” The room was silent. I looked them over one at a time. They must’ve been gearing up for plan B, collaborating in their utter stillness.

Lenny spoke first. “You’re right on a few points, Venus. Yes, you’re right, we can’t say exactly who will buy the product, but we can predict a certain amount of reliability. And that’s your job, to tell us who that certain amount will come from. We just think these figures are a little low. We’re not asking for a miracle overnight. If you could just put in a little more effort in your analysis. We’ll give you whatever you need to make it happen. A better software program, another body perhaps. You tell us.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to put some thought into it. This being the first time I’ve heard of a problem, I’ll need a little time.”

“That’s all we ask, Venus.” John rose up and walked me to his office door.

“Lenny, Ray.” I nodded to them and left the room. I don’t know how I made it to my office. I fell into my chair and lurched forward. The pain, the sharp cramping was unbearable. I grabbed my purse and headed out to the elevator.

It wasn’t coming fast enough. I pressed the down button harder with every pulsating jab of my stomach. I could feel Sherri’s eyes on the back of my whole body, from my heels to my exposed scalp. I pressed again on the elevator button and it opened. I got inside and moved into the corner to get out of her eye view. Once the door closed I let out spasms of tears. The loud echo of my own sobbing scared me. I cried loud and hard, ceasing abruptly when the elevator stopped moving, and quickly wiped my eyes and cheeks before the doors opened. I didn’t want anyone to see the mess I’d made of myself. Here I’d been thinking of being promoted, moving forward, and they were on a completely different page. According to them, I needed help. Not up to par.

I drove home with my eyes rimmed with redness and burning. I cussed Ray, John, and Lenny. I didn’t understand why Ray hadn’t warned me that this was coming. Actually I did understand, and quite well. He’d probably been planning some type of retaliation from the first day I’d rejected him. Just because I didn’t want his nasty hands all over me and his tongue down my throat, now he’s trying to get rid of me. How could I have been so naïve? The apology, the promise to talk to John and Lenny about the St. John’s account, it was all a smoke screen. I beat the steering wheel again with both hands. “Son of a bitch.” I reached up and pressed the remote button. My antenna brushed the door from entering too soon. I closed it before the engine was off and wondered if this was how accidents happened. Coming home from a job where people treated you like gum on a shoe, staying in the running car just a little too long for solace, listening to the rest of your favorite song . . . and they call it a suicide.

I stomped my way up the stairs into the house.

“Please tell me this is just another bad dream, Sandy,” I whispered into her warm layer of hair as she kept trying to lick my face. “I need a hug, girl. Give mama a hug.” I squeezed her gently and put her back down on the floor. She jumped up and down, ruining yet another pair of panty hose, not that I cared. I leaned back in the large leather chair with my legs outstretched and used my fingernails to dig holes in the small snags. I pulled until my legs were covered with strips of black nylon. I looked like I felt, all torn up.

“Hi Mom.”

I didn’t want to start crying again so I planned to make it brief. If she heard even the smallest amount of tension, she’d ask, “What’s wrong, baby?” and then the tears would overflow like Niagara Falls.

“I’ll be flying in on the twenty-second. I don’t have the exact time yet. I’ll call you with that a couple of days before I come.”

“Is Clint coming with you?” She had to ask.

“No, he can’t make it. He’s not going to have enough time off to fly all the way out there and back in time for work. I don’t even think he gets Christmas off.” I couldn’t think of any other excuses.

“I think we’re going to have dinner over at your Auntie Katha’s house this year.” She moved on, ignoring what I’d said about Clint. She could always see straight through my half-truths.

“Auntie Katha makes the best pecan pie.” I went along with the change of subject.

“Timothy has found himself a new lady friend. He says he’s bringing her with him. Must be special if he wants us to meet her.”

“They’re all special, Mom. Stop hoping for a miracle. He’s never going to stick with any of them.”

“You don’t know. You never know what the future holds.”

“You’re right, I don’t know. I don’t know much of anything these days.” I shoved the kitchen towel into my mouth to hold in the cry. Here I go. Damn.

“Venus, baby, what’s wrong?” That’s all it took for the dam to break. I couldn’t hold it in a second longer.

“Oh Mom, I’ve just been making a mess of things, my job, Clint. I feel like I’ve been walking around and living in the Twilight Zone. Clint and I . . . we’re not together anymore.”

“What happened? Tell me and stop all that sniveling.”

“I just told him if he didn’t want to get married, it was over. I was tired of wasting my time. He’s been putting it off for so long, I just started not to believe in him anymore. I mean, he was going to have me waiting for him forever. I had to move on with my life.”

“That’s it? He didn’t run out on you or hit you or nothing like that?”

“No. He hurt my feelings, though. I mean, he broke my heart.”

“He hurt your feelings?”

“Yeah. All this time we’ve been together, he hasn’t even proposed or given me a ring or nothing.”

“Venus, did you tell him how you felt before you told him you were tired of being tired?” She knew the answer before she asked, but as a mother, it was her duty to make me spell it out.

“Well . . . he knew. He knew, it wasn’t a secret that I wanted to marry him. He just kept putting me off. I wasn’t putting up with his broke butt for nothing.” I let out another stack of hiccups mixed with tears. “When he showed up for my birthday with a puppy instead of the ring I’d been expecting, I just lost it. I told him to either commit to marrying me or get out. And he left.” Reliving that day made the tears flow uncontrollably.

“Venus. Stop it. Stop crying! I can’t talk to you with all that sniveling in my ear.”

I stuck the towel in my mouth again and clamped down hard.

“If you’re so misty eyed over this, why don’t you tell him you made a mistake? Fix it. Don’t just sit there wallowing. Tell him you made a mistake.”

“That won’t fix it! Telling him I made a mistake. He’s the one making the mistake.”

“Okay, Venus. Do whatever you need to do. In the end it’ll always turn out how it’s supposed to anyway. It always does.”

“Are you sure?” I snuck one more sniff in. “I hope that’s true.”

“Oh it’s true, ma’dear. Things always work themselves out. I promise.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too, sweetie. See you in a couple of weeks.”

We hung up. And for a while I believed what my mother had said, that things always worked out the way they were meant to. Clint would eventually recognize how wrong he was. He’d see that all I wanted was what was best for both of us.