04. sunny day in real life
The aroma of brewing coffee filled the lobby of Realife while she
picked up paperclips off the floor. Candi had unleashed the power of
the automatic paperclip dispenser when she had tossed her white Praha
handbag onto her desk. Exploding, it had strewn clips throughout her
work area. She was on all fours, behind her desk when she heard
someone sneeze softly. Startled, she remained motionless for a
second, then suddenly rose, clipping her shoulder on the corner of
her desk.
“Ouch! Damn! Oh. Hello. Excuse me, I didn’t realize anyone was here.”
She said rubbing her shoulder and glancing at her office calendar.
“You must be …”
“Martin Griess, from Madd & Sons Advertising. I have an appointment
with Mr. Cole at nine.”
“You’re here early, Mr Griess. Mr. Cole hasn’t arrived yet. Why don’t
you take a seat? He should be here any minute.”
“Thanks. By the way, I saw you picking up paperclips off the floor. I
got something in my pocket that’ll save you from ever having to bend
over again.”
I bet you do, she thought but asked instead, “A million dollars?”
“No.” He placed a box on the counter in front of Candi’s desk. “Nano-
clips. They’re the newest product from Acme Office Supply. We’re
giving people samples to try out. There’s a nano-computer built into
the paperclips to help them migrate back to wherever this small
tracking chip is located. You just stick the chip to wherever you
want them to go. They‘re like ants. It might take a couple of days to
travel a desk, especially if it’s dishevelled, but the paperclips can
even climb walls, and move on all surfaces as long as they’re not
metal or marble.”
During Martin’s explanation, Candi had examined her gift. She had
shaken the box and dumped the contents on her desk, and was now
attaching paperclips to the fingers of her left hand.”
“But what if I don’t want them to congregate?”
“If you bend them, they stop moving.”
“And what if I want to reactivate them?”
“You can’t. Once you bend them out of shape, you break the circuit.
You can still use them as ordinary paperclips, though.”
“What do you mean? If I bend them, I kill them?”
“Well, sort of.”
“I don’t want to be responsible for killing paperclips.” She paused
for a moment and held up her left hand. “So, here’s the billion
dollar madison question before we move on and stop talking about
paperclips. Are these really necessary?”
“Well, they’re just a prototype, for you to try out if you want. Tell
me what you think!”
“Hey, how come I feel a distinct pressure on my fingertips?”
“What? Oh, let me see.” He picked up the box. “Oops. I gave you the
wrong box. Sorry. You’ve got the nano-clips that are coming out next.
These are designed to tighten during use, always returning to their
original shape. No more out-of-shape paperclips.”
“I think that’s a way better idea than migrating clips. I don’t know
if I want office supplies travelling around my desk. There’s enough
movement already.”
“Well. I’m not really supposed to give them to people. They haven’t
even been safety-tested yet. Fresh out of the laboratory.” Starting
to sneeze, he opened his mouth and caught it in time.
“And is that glowing red bug thing on your jacket also fresh out of
the laboratory?”
“Oh this. It’s supposed to be a good luck charm for bowlers.” He
removed the bowling pin-shaped bug with glowing red eyes and placed
it on the counter.
“You bowl?”
“Yeah, league.”
“Me, too. What’s your average?”
“It’s been hovering around 280 for a couple of years.”
“Wow. That’s not bad.”
“Thanks. But I don’t think this bug does any good. Missed a couple of
splits and our team lost last night.”
“That’s too bad. You know Mr. Griess …”
“Call me …” he sneezed, “Martin.” He pulled a handkerchief from his
coat pocket. “Sorry. Allergies. This time of the year is a killer for me.”
”You know, Martin …” she hesitated. “Things with beady red eyes,
especially if they glow, remind me of horror films.” Candi stared at
the object while holding her chin and thinking how she would like to
take a swing at it with her handbag. “So, where do you bowl?” she
asked, breaking the silence.
“At Radka Lanes. Where do you bowl?”
“I bowl at the Fruit Center. So you bowl at Radka Lanes. Wow.
Membership only. Who got you in?”
“I got it through work.” He smiled. “You can have the bug if you
want. Maybe it will bring you some luck.”
“I just made some coffee. Would you like a cup?”
“Don’t bother. I’ll get it. Do you want one, too?”
“Sure, light and sweet. And here …” She held out the bug to Martin,
“You can put this next to the coffee machine. Maybe someone will take
it.”
He took the bug, allowing his fingers to brush against her palm. “I
see that you’re not too thrilled about it, either.”
“Not really.”
Martin walked towards the coffee machine, conscious that Candi was
watching. He noticed a copper penny and bent over gracefully to allow
Candi a good look at his figure. He proceeded to pour two cups of
coffee without spilling a drop, added sugar and creamer to hers, and
rung the cup softly while stirring.
Well. It isn’t such a bad day after all, she thought, watching the
good-looking, middle-aged, advertising consultant approach her desk.
“Hey. You missed a clip.”
“Where?” Candi seemed genuinely startled that a paperclip had escaped her notice.
“Over there by the filing cabinet.”
Without thinking, Candi went over to retrieve the abandoned clip.
Martin watched how Candi’s large breasts strained the fabric of her
gray and pink print tricot blouse as she bent over.
Candi felt Martin’s lusting eyes casting a look at her luxurious and
plentifuls, and took a deep breath as she slowly rose from her bent-
over position.
“I see you read the Sutters Weekly?” He leaned over the counter and
pointed to the tabloid lying on her desk.
“Yeah. They report the strangest stories. Last week there was a story
about a guy who developed mad cow disease from working with
industrial fodder. Started foaming at the mouth and died standing.”
“Geez. That’s awful.”
“Yeah. And then there was a story about a woman alien who was brought into a hospital in Nevada City and when they went to take blood, the fumes from her veins killed the nurses.”
“You like to read about that stuff?”
“It fulfills my need to escape and I like stories that embellish the
truth. Thanks.” She took a coffee mug from the counter and sat down
allowing Martin a more relaxed view of her cleavage.
Martin took a sip and winced. “Wow. This coffee is strong. So how
long have you been bowling?”
“Been bowling since I was a teenager.”
“Well, I usually shoot a few practice lanes a week at Radka. Maybe
you would like to come along sometime? It’s a great way to unwind
after a hard day. How ‘bout coming with me next Tuesday? I could pick
you up after work.”
She flipped forward through her office calendar. “Tuesday. It looks
like I’m free. I have league play on Thursday. You don’t have to pick
me up, though. I’ll meet you there.”
“What if we say ’bout six thirty.” Martin barely had time to set down
his coffee mug before he took a giant gulp of air and let out a
sneeze that caused the water cooler to gurgle.
“Six-thirty sounds fine to me. Boy, that sounds nasty. Don’t you take
anything for it?”
Martin wiped his nose. “Now where was I? Oh yeah. Six thirty. Let’s
meet at the bar. This just started. I got my drugs in the car.”
“Do you want an antihistamine? I got one in my purse.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
Martin leaned on the counter and watched as Candi fumbled through
her purse. Without asking, he went around her desk and picked up another
paperclip. He handed it to her. She pointed to the magnetic
paperclip dispenser and while placing the clip back where it
belonged, he noticed the postcard that she had laid on her desk
that morning. “Hey. I hope you don’t mind me snooping, but that
postcard on your desk looks mighty familiar.”
“Huh?” She broke a pill free from the protective foil and handed it
and the postcard to Martin. “Oh this. I got it in the mail yesterday.”
“I’ve got a card like this, too.”
“Really? I’ve got a whole collection.” She pointed to the others
pinned to her cubicle. “They’re from my friend Freedom …”
“Freedom?” He tossed the pill into his mouth and chased it down with
a sip of the coffee. “You know Freedom?”
“Don’t tell me … How do you know Freedom?”
“Yes. I know Freedom. I get postcards like this from her once in
awhile, too. It’s always the same motif.”
“Yeah. Always the triangle and the two circles that look like
breasts. Like these.” She pointed and Martin bent over her desk to
examine them more closely.
“You know, I think I even have one from this series, this one with
the cut up money from a foreign country.”
“One of the first. Wait a minute. Oh, my god!” Candi stood up abruptly
and brought her hand to her mouth. “So you’re the one. You know Ralph?”
“No. Who’s he?” Martin stood up too.
“Freedom’s ex.”
“I know the story a little. I never met him, though. Ralph’s his
name, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Ralph. Did she ever mention the name Candi?”
“Yeah. She was living at her house. I know the house. I dropped her
off many a time. Are you saying you’re the Candi?”
She nodded.
“You have a cute house, fixed up really nice. Nice neighborhood. Low
crime.”
“My parents bought it after the war on a veteran’s loan.”
“It must be worth ten times the amount they bought it for.”
“It’s an up-and-coming neighborhood. You could probably get half a
million for it now.”
“Yeah. You think so? But up-and-coming for who?”
“People who can afford to shell out that kind of money.”
“I don’t know if I want them in my neighborhood. Those people drive
Hummers and there’s too many of them on the road already.”
He laughed politely. “Funny, we’ve never met.” He moved closer to Candi.
“You know that Ralph, I mean Mr. Thorndorn, is the big boss of this
company.”
“So Mr. Thorndorn is Freedom’s ex Ralph?
“Yeah. I’m only here out of loyalty to Freedom. I took leave for a
while when things got too bizarre. But Freedom didn’t want me to
quit. And I couldn’t disappoint her, I mean with her daughter and
everything …” She lowered her head, then looked up and forced a smile.
“She told me.” He took hold of her hands. “I only knew her for a few
months. Then she left without saying good-bye. About a month later,
she sent me a postcard with a drawing of a toaster on the back. I
think that was almost a year ago. Since then, I’ve only received one
other.”
“Good morning.” A short gum-chewing executive entered.
Martin looked surprised and let go of Candi.
“It’s okay.” Candi whispered and turned to greet the man who had
entered. “Good morning, Mr. Cole. This is Mr. Griess!” She smiled.
Martin sneezed.
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