22. uncle fester
On the way back to her desk, she decided to pour herself another cup
of coffee. This time, she decided to drink it black. Whether it was
going to remain that way or not, concerned her little. Her thoughts
were elsewhere.
Mr. Cole had notified her that the blow to Martin’s head had required
twelve stitches. They had had to shave the right side of his head
and, although his nose had not been broken by the Mr. Thorndorn’s
spastic jab, there was some damage. Candi shrieked and put her hands
to her mouth, as Uncle Fester suddenly appeared in front of her desk
as if rising from the ground. His beady red eyes peered out from his
swollen face.
“Martin! Oh my god! Oh my god …” she screamed repeatedly, rising >from
her chair and taking a step back. “Oh, Martin!” she said again, taking
a Kleentex to cover her gaping mouth. “Oh, Martin. How could you do
such a thing? Stop scaring me! Why do you think that’s funny? Martin,
you look awful. Can you even see with your eyes so swelled up. I bet
you that hurts a lot.”
Even in his current mangled physical condition, Martin’s talent of
appearing unexpectedly at her desk never ceased to amaze Candi. It
usually promoted some reaction in her, only this time disgust and
empathy were added to the feeling. “How did you get here? I mean …”
She gulped loudly. “Martin! How did you get here to my desk without
me noticing you?”
Martin mumbled something inaudible back as he pinched his nose,
snorted, and rolled the nose crumbs between his fingers. She shook
her head and dropped her jaw in disgust. Martin’s eyes began to
water, tiny tears appeared at the sides of his cheek.
“Oh god, Martin. Your nose is bleeding.” She nervously handed Martin
several sheets of Kleentex. Martin took the wadded-up facial tissue
and blotted his nose.
Candi felt pity for the pathetic Uncle Fester. Tremendous sympathy,
suddenly overcame her and she kissed her hand and laid it softly on
the stitched side of Martin’s painfully modern haircut. Martin
accepted Candi’s comfort but jerked back briefly in pain at her touch
and gave her a lobotomized smile. He placed a pastry box on the
counter in front of Candi.
“Martin. Are you okay? Did you buy donuts?” she asked teasingly.
“Mr Cole said … anytime … look about.”
“But you don’t start for another month, at least. By the looks of
you, probably not before the end of the year. Martin you don’t look
too good.”
“Yeah, okay? I look worse than I feel.”
“You can certainly say that again.” Martin laughed and Candi
chuckled. “Say, what kind of drugs do they have you on? That cut …”
she said, pointing to Martin’s head, “and your face. They must hurt.”
“That reminds me. I’ve got to take a pain pill.” He reached into his
coat pocket. “Open the box and see what kind of donuts I got you.”
“I thought you would be traumatized by pastry boxes. I guess the urge
for sweets can overcome any fear.” She opened the lid. “Oh look a
little fuzzy one, pour moi.”
“I bought all kinds. Bismarck, cake, glazed, coconut, sprinkles and
jelly filled, my favorite.”
“I know.”
“Know what?”
“Just by the way you dress. You are a jelly filled kind of guy.”
Martin thought that Candi was referring to his new company uniform.
He certainly did feel rather colorful today with his white shirt,
brown pants and orange jacket. His black patent leather shoes
reflected the neon office light.
“Pour yourself a cup of coffee. I’ve already got one.”
“Sorry about your cup, Hun.”
“Yeah. Too bad.” She cringed as she remembered its demise. “I hauled
out this Delta Smelts cup that I got, god knows when.” The phone
rang, and Candi was annoyed at the distraction.
“Martin, wait in the canteen,” she directed, pointing to the gray
swinging doors at the end of the gray carpeted, neon lit corridor,
“and take the pastry box with you.” She pushed the box toward him.
“I’ll meet you there,” she said and answered the incoming call.
There was a long pause and Candi repeated her greeting.
“Mr. Thorndorn?” came the voice at the other end of the telephone line.
“No. I’m sorry. Mr. Thorndorn is not in at the moment. Can I take a
message?” Before Candi could finish her sentence, the caller hung up.
Puzzled and a bit spooked, Candi broke her coconut donut in half and
dunked it into her cup of coffee. Martin stomping on the floor to
make air percolate into the plastic bottle caught her attention and
she glared at him.
Martin looked up at her in surprise. “I need some water to down the
pill.”
“Stop playing with the water cooler, Martin.”
“Mr. Griess,” Mr. Thorndorn said as he entered the lobby. “What are
you doing here?”
“Mister …,” Martin sprung to attention and turned to greet Mr.
Thorndorn.
“I thought you’d be resting. Boy, you don’t look too good.” Mr.
Thorndorn went over to Martin and shook his hand.
“I thought I’d stop by and say hello. I bought some donuts for you
and the crew.” He pointed to the pastry box on Candi’s desk.
“It’s good to see you already up and about.” He turned to Candi. “See
that this man is made to feel at home, Candi.” He patted Martin on
the shoulder before moving away and walking into his office. “I’ve
got a few phone calls to make. Are there any messages?”
“Yeah. No. Not really. Nothing special,” Candi replied.
“Martin.” Mr. Cole said before closing his office door, “Candi will
take care of you. If you need anything, ask Candi.”
Candi was already calling Jim Cole, thinking he might have time to
show Martin around the plant.
“Martin. Stay where you are. I’m calling Mr. Cole to see if he can
give you a tour of the place. Get yourself a cup of coffee.”
Martin removed his medication from his coat pocket and remained at
the water cooler patiently waiting and trying to remove the child
protective cap from the bottle of pills. Meanwhile, Candi held her
position at the office helm, keeping an eye on Martin lest he sneak
up on her again.
“Candi. Here I am.” Jim came down the corridor from his office and
walked towards her desk.
“Hey Jim!” She was surprised that he had responded to her SOS so
quickly. “Mr. Thorndorn wants you to show our new employee around the
plant.” She pointed over to Martin, who tossed a pill into his mouth
and followed it with a swig of water from a tiny paper cup.
“Martin?”
Jim turned to Martin and was shocked by what he saw. “Martin Griess.”
He moved in slowly to shake Martin’s hand. “Why are you here? I
thought …” he fumbled for words, “I thought you’d be resting after
what happened to you. I’m sorry about hitting you.”
“So you’re the one.” He threw the paper cup into the waste paper
basket and lightly touched his head. “Do you know how it happened?”
“I am not quite sure myself. It all happened so fast. I passed out
after I bumped into you. We’ll have to ask Candi. I think she saw the
entire thing.”
“Wait a minute. I know you from someplace else.” Martin suddenly
connected where he had seen this man before Realife. “Didn’t you use
to drive an ice cream truck?”
Taken aback by the strange question, Jim paused and looked at Martin
suspiciously before responding. “Yeah. How do you know that? That
was quite a long time ago.”
“Remember a little dog that you ran over.”
“I’ve run over a few dogs in my life.”
“It was a while back.” He bent over, palm open, measuring the
distance from the floor to show the ex-ice cream deliveryman how tall
his dead dog would have been if it had still been alive. “A poodle
that would yap at anything that moved.”
The telephone rang and Candi answered with the traditional company
salute. “Yes. Mr. Thorndorn is in. I’ll connect.”
“Yeah. I think I remember, vaguely. Since then I’ve been in the
military, went back to school, job after job, got married, bought a house
and had children.”
Within seconds, Mr. Thorndorn opened his office door and yelled to
Candi, “There’s a bomb planted in the canteen. It’s supposed to go
off at the morning break. Get everybody out!” He looked at his watch.
“Not another bomb threat,” Candi whined and sullenly called the
police. She realized Martin and Jim were making their way down the
corridor towards the office canteen.
“Jim, don’t go in there. I mean, get everyone out.”
“There’s supposed to be a bomb in the canteen.” Mr. Thorndorn shouted.
“Martin.” Jim said turning. “We just got another bomb threat.” He
patted him on the shoulder. “Do me a favor and tell everyone in the
canteen to get out. I’ll go tell the people in the offices.”
Martin did what he was told. “There’s supposed to be a bomb in the
room! Everybody get out now!”
The handful of office workers who had collected in the canteen for
their break were more disgusted by Martin’s appearance than panicked
by his warning. Martin repeated his request and walked back down the
corridor to Candi and informed her that he had done his duty but they had
not responded. Jim overhearing, moved into action, ran back down the
corridor and confirmed Martin’s announcement.
The disgruntled employees put down what they were eating and shuffled
out of the canteen and into the lobby.
While they milled around, Candi instructed the employees that the
bomb squad was on its way and they would have to wait until the
premises had been checked. Many complained asking what the point was
since this was not the first time, but Candi calmed them down by
offering them donuts. Word got around that it was Martin who had
brought in the donuts and soon he was being patted on the back and
complimented for saving the day. Martin snorted with pride and his
nose began to bleed.
Candi heard ringing in her ears and answered.
“Ms Powers? This is Mike Mueller from the FCT. I was wondering if you
would have some time soon. I have a few things to ask you about the
gala. I could come by during a break …”
A sudden large explosion and the subsequent crash of glasses and
plates as a shelving unit imploded paralyzed the waiting staff. Panic
then seized them and they all started to move to the exit as quickly
as they could. The sight of Martin’s bleeding nose only augmented
their desire to escape. Everyone pushed forward and the collective
thrust propelled the entire mass out of the building.
“Hello? Miss Powers?”
Candi was still at her desk, stunned that she was still standing. “A
bomb went off in the kitchen. People are fleeing the building.” Candi
said, her voice cracking, and she watched them scatter.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.”
“Then honey, I’d advise you to do the same.”
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