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Because of the broken arm James left his skates at
home and walked from Grand Central to the office. At
home he'd had spent fruitless minutes trying to make
Ben understand that he had to be careful because Daddy
had hurt his arm. He'd eaten a light meal and napped
in front of the television until the phone rang. It
was Kath, Debbie's best friend and James' partner at
work.
"Hey soldier. What happened?"
"News travels fast!" he joked. "OK,
you really want the story? Someone grabbed a woman's
purse. Someone tried to stop him. Someone got in the
way."
"What happened to the purse?"
"Happy ending. She got it back."
"If you changed the story a little you could come
out a real hero. You need a better spin."
"I'll hire you to write my copy," he said.
"You might need to. Soon." James was startled
by the subtext.
"Why? What happened?"
"Oh, I don't know. Maybe it's nothing. Three people
got laid off this afternoon. I thought you should know.
Jay was fired for downloading some hacking program.
Joy and Ellie were fired for email abuse."
"What?!"
"They were checking private mail accounts from
work."
"We do that!"
"That's why I'm calling, hon."
After that it was harder to sleep. James reasoned that
he and Kath were safe. If they were in trouble surely
Kath would already know about it. She had called simply
to warn him, in case he got to work the next day before
she did.
It wasn't really the layoffs that worried him. It was
the fact that they'd happened to people who seemed to
be doing good work. If those people could get laid off,
almost anybody was a potential target. Private email
might technically be viewed as abuse of company equipment,
but surely you couldn't be fired for it.
Kath was already in the office when he got there. On
his desk sat a large paper cup with a plastic lid, and
a bundle wrapped in foil.
"Bacon, egg, cheese and tomato on a Portuguese
roll," she told him, munching her own roll. "Thought
it might help you feel better."
"I love you," James told her. He started
to unwrap the sandwich. It was difficult with his damaged
arm. "So, what's new?"
"All hands meeting at 9 o'clock." She stopped
eating and looked at him. He could see how concerned
she was.
"The whole company?"
"Yep. Consultants, contractors, employees, everyone."
"We're going to get our wrists smacked for sending
emails home."
Kath shrugged. "Sounds crazy but there you go.
How's the arm?"
"Hurts like hell. Say something to cheer me up."
Kath tried to think. "Hey, I know. Want to bring
Debs and Ben to the theater?"
"That would be fun. What did you have in mind.
Ben's a little young for Chekhov."
"Last night my sister went to see The Magicians."
"The cheesy magic show! How did that ever get
to Broadway?"
"Because it's so good. Christine said it was amazing.
She said they do things you just can't explain."
"All magicians do things I can't explain."
At nine o'clock they filed dutifully into the meeting.
James was uncomfortable. His arm hurt more and more
as the hours passed, three of his friends had lost their
jobs, and now someone in the building was threatened
by the idea that he might write a note to his wife.
Yesterday he'd felt on top of the world. Today, all
of a sudden, he was depressed. He couldn't quite see
where the month had gone wrong.
There was only one room large enough to accommodate
everyone. The firm had just taken it over and they had
yet to add any furniture. At one end of the room stood
an amplifier and a microphone.
The three founders of the company were already there.
They looked relaxed, they all wore expensive suits and
button-down collars. One of them, a lean man named Doberman
with a sharp nasty face, took the microphone and surveyed
the room, waiting for quiet.
James and Kath sat on the floor and rested their backs
against the wall. Next to them sat Hamlet, the firm's
database expert. He was a happy giant, with skin thicker
than armor. His act, perfected over many years, was
to feign taciturnity. He spoke rarely but when he did
he was funny and interesting. He turned to them and
nodded.
"Any idea what this shit's about?" he inquired,
amiably.
They confessed that they had none. Hamlet sighed slowly
and then crooked a large finger towards Doberman. "Did
you know he wears women's underwear?" he whispered,
loudly. They both stifled laughter.
Hamlet shook his head earnestly and stared at them,
aghast at their doubt. "I'm telling you. He bought
the whole Spring Collection from Victoria's Secret.
It's called Printemps."
James was laughing so hard he had to cough to cover
it.
"Takes a B-cup," added Hamlet, with an affirmative
nod. "I think he stuffs."
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