Silence of the Lamps

The smell of fear filled the front office, as thick and powerful as a fart in a shower. Cutbacks, layoffs, and redundancies all floated about in the ether, waiting for the chance to be made real. The staff gathered, as per instructions, around the door of Helen Bach, the Junior Regional Vice Manager of Sales and Distribution, and watched the hands crawl towards ten o'clock.

Helen was already inside, of course. They could see the dark shillouettes of her feet on the carpet as she stood behind her office door, counting the second so as to emerge at precisely ten. Always a stickler for punctuality, she had become almost obsessive in the week since she had returned from her unexplained five-month medical leave. The office pool had chronic stomach ulcers as the odds on favourite. Maternity leave was coming in at 20-1.

The hour struck, and the door opened. Helen emerged wearing an olive-green pantsuit, short hair pulled back tight in a ponytail. Her chin showed a faint hint of blue, like that of a freshly-shaved man. She looked, in other words, the same as always. She gathered the crowd's attention by eye.

"Robert, can I speak to you please?"

Robert got to his feet and shuffled towards the door. The atmosphere in the room shifted as the gathered workers all sighed inwardly. Creepy Bob was going to get the axe.

~

"Have a seat please, Robert."

"Thank you."


He moved towards the only spare chair in the sparsely decorated office. Apart from the desk and the plastic ficus in the corner, it was empty. No paintings, no photographs on the walls. She didn't even have photos on her - Robert recoiled in surprise at the small photo frame adorning the corner of the otherwise sterile desk. Sometimes pigs do fly. She caught him staring at the frame. She reached out and flipped it around. Under the glass was a photo of a screaming, red-faced infant.

"His name is Jeremy." She said, with the faintest whisper of a smile on her face.

"Jeremy... Tell me, Helen, did you nurse him yourself?"

The smile disappeared along with the photo. Helen cleared her throat.

"Robert, I went to head office yesterday."

"And what did you see, Helen? What did you see?"

"I saw John Fitzpatrick, the Chief Regional Manager. He had troubling news."

"They were slaughtering the spring lambs?"

"Please Robert, i'm trying to talk to you here. I saw John, and he said he was starting to recieve complaints from customers and from inside the company itself."

"And you ran away?"

"Robert, i'm trying to help you here. I'm sure you can guess who the complaints were about."

"Enthrall me with your acumen."

"It's that, Robert. The endless quotations. Listen, I know you love this film. And it's a good film; I've seen it myself, twice. But you have to stop with the constant quoting. We're salespeople, and you can't sell product if you go around spouting movie dialogue all day. It's unprofessional, and it's very strange. People are starting to talk, Robert. You're starting to sound like a... well, like a crazy person."

"You know what you look like with your good bag and your cheap shoes? You look like a rube!"

"I'm not the enemy here Robert. Frankly, John wanted me to fire you."

"Oh my, does he hate us."

"No he doesn't hate you. He's concerned about the business, and so am I. But I talked him in to giving you a second chance."

She reached into her desk drawer and pulled out a thick form.

"This is a psychiatric evaluation consent form, Robert. If you agree to attend a two day review at our facility in New Hampshire, you can keep your job, pending the results of the evaluation, of course."

Robert leaned forward and grabbed the form. He started flicking through it.

"Shady Pines is an excellent facility, Robert. It's really more a resort than a medical centre."

"Shady Pines Animal Disease Research Center. Sounds charming."

"Please Robert, you're a good salesman, and I don't want to lose you from my team. Sign the form."

He sat for a minute, then scribbled his signature on the paper.

"Thank you, Robert. You made the smart choice."

"You know, a census taker once tried to test me." He said, placing the pen and paper back on her desk. "I ate his liver with some fava beans and-"

"And a bottle of chianti, yes, thank you Robert, you may go now. And could you please tell Julian I need to see him? Thank you."

Robert rose and made his way out of the office. He paused at the door.

"Oh, and Helen, just one more thing..."

"Yes?"

"...love the suit."

She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. It was already a long day, and it was just going to get longer. After a minute, a sharp rap came at the door. It was Julian.

"Come in, Julian, have a seat. Now, I assume you know what this is all about."

"You shouldn't use my name."

"Julian, we have footage of you stealing company property."

She pivoted her computer screen to afford him a view of the black and white footage. Onscreen, his tiny double was walking through the parking lot with an armload of supplies.

"We installed hidden security cameras in the garage, foyer, loading dock, and supply room, and they all caught you in the act."

"You spared no expense."

"Indeed. Now, you can still get off relatively lightly if you co-operate with us. Only managers are supposed to have access to the supply rooms. You tell us who gave you the keys, and we'll leave the police out of this. Now, who gave you the keys, Julian?"

He stared at the looped footage a moment longer, then turned toward her.

"Ah, ah, ah, you didn't say the magic word."


It was going to be a very long day.