The rain
poured down my windshield as I pulled into my apartment’s parking lot. It was
the end of August, and I could tell that the days were getting shorter; the
squall that had blown in during the afternoon made it feel like the sun had set
three hours early. I parked and turned the car off, then sat for a moment in
the hopes the rain would slack off long enough for me to run inside.
“Welcome
home, Sylvia!” Frank exclaimed from the passenger’s seat. I smiled.
“Hey Frank,
you’re back early. Not as much gossip today?” He usually stayed out until
sundown, chatting with the local flora.
“Eh.
Between the days getting shorter and the clouds rolling in, everyone shut down
early today. The ones who haven’t already gone to sleep are doing their best to
soak up the rain before fall gets here and things start to dry out.” His tone
was still upbeat, but slower than it had been a month ago; I could tell the
shorter days were getting to him, too.
“Lucky
them,” I said, peering out the window. The rain was, if anything, getting
harder, and I resigned myself to getting wet on the way in. I twisted around to
grab my stuff out of the back seat and glanced toward Frank. “See you topside?”
He chuckled
and wished me a safe run, then I felt him head upward through the car roof.
We’d been taking field trips, as he called them, every other week for the last
two months, and I’d gotten to the point where I could reliably locate where he
was if he stayed within a hundred feet of me. One of our exploratory rounds of
Marco Polo had been interrupted by a passing hiker who, obviously, hadn’t been
able to sense Frank and thought I was an escaped mental patient. It was
incredibly hard to come up with a reasonable explanation of why I was running
around a meadow on my own yelling “there you are!” with Frank laughing
hysterically behind me, but I finally convinced the lady to carry on without
calling the cops.
“We should
probably start making longer trips, before the locals start rumors about the
crazy lady who goes hiking with her plant and sees ghosts in the woods,” I
muttered to myself, then jumped out and ran for the apartment building. The
rain was not cold, but I instantly felt clammy and in need of a shower. I
paused in the exterior stairwell long enough to grab my mail, the wind blowing
a fine mist through the corridor, then hurried up the stairs to the safety of
my front door.
There was a
small rectangle of linoleum just inside the doorway, a token entryway in the
otherwise carpeted front room. I slipped my shoes off and left them there, then
dumped my purse and bag on the floor against the couch as I peeled my raincoat
off and hung it on the coat rack to dry. I debated showering before dinner, but
I hadn’t gotten truly soaked, so I settled for changing into comfortable – dry –
house clothes.
Coming back out to the main room,
Frank greeted me again from his windowsill and started chattering about who
he’d talked to before the rain came in. It had been a long day at the
office, so I was only half-listening as I put together a plate of food and
settled in at my computer desk to look over the mail. As usual, most of it was
junk mail that I set aside to be recycled, but there was also a large,
official-looking yellow envelope from the Maryland State Police. I opened it
and pulled out a laminated card the size of a driver’s license; my face and the
words “Private Investigator” stared back at me in bright, shiny colors.
“Well, I'm glad I don’t have anything
important to say,” Frank sniffed, breaking through my bemusement, “because it’s
pretty obvious you’re not paying attention anyway.”
“Jeez, I’m sorry, Frank. I promise
I was paying attention until I opened this.” I held out the card in his
direction. I felt him drift closer, curiosity lacing his thoughts as he spelled
out the letters. Reading wasn’t easy for plants, because they don’t see the
same way humans do, but Frank could work his way through a printed page with
enough time and focus.
“Ooh! Is that your license?” he
suddenly exclaimed. “I thought you said that would take three months to get
back?”
“I thought so, too, to be honest.
Maybe they’re ahead of schedule,” I said. It had been two months since Ms.
Mitchell had accepted my consultant offer and we’d started the paperwork
both for her hiring me and for my license. I had gone to the local police station to
get fingerprinted, filled out a questionnaire basically detailing my life up to
that point, and sent the package off into the void. The process was notoriously
opaque; basically, you didn’t hear anything until you got the license or they
sent you a reason for rejection. It appeared, however, that my life had been
sufficiently tame – without mention of my skills, anyway – to make it through
the process in decent time.
I grabbed my phone to send a
picture to Bast. We hadn’t met up since lunch at the Inner Harbor, but we’d
stayed in touch via phone. He had made actual phone calls a time or two while
on stakeouts, but I much preferred text. Plant communication was heavily
reliant on visuals and senses that don’t translate directly into words;
speaking with humans in person at least provided nonverbal cues, but talking on
the phone often left me confused as to someone’s true intent. Text, I’d found,
was a much safer method of interaction, allowing time for thought between responses
and follow-up questions for clarification.
Looks
like I’ll be joining you shortly, I added, and sent text and picture
together. A moment later, the reply popped up: Congrats! Let the boss know, she works late on Tuesdays! I grinned.
Even over text, his excitement was infectious.
“Well, I guess life is going to get
even more interesting now,” I said to Frank. “And just to check, you’re okay
with this? Have I laid all your concerns to rest or will I come home to snarky
comments every day?”
“Nah, I’m good,” he replied,
drifting back toward his pot. “It helps that I can go talk to other plants so
I know I won’t be bored while you’re gone, but you’re right, you did promise
you’d stick with me. And you’ve been trustworthy so far… for a human.” I chuckled,
rolling my eyes at him.
“Why, thank you, kind sir,” I
replied lightly. “I’ll do my best to uphold the honor of the human race.” He
snorted at that, but didn’t rise to the bait, instead turning his attention to
the rain outside. He’d mentioned before that it reminded him of the rainforest
that was supposedly a memory from a many-times-great-grandplant. I left him to
his contemplation to call Ms. Mitchell and figure out how we were going to make
training work with both our schedules.
Three days later, I pulled into the
parking lot between a multi-story, textured concrete building and a family
diner with a peaked red roof in Catonsville, Maryland. I parked, walked inside,
and punched the button for the fourth floor when the elevator cab arrived. The
building looked well-cared-for, although I’d never been a fan of drop ceilings
and florescent lights. I found the suite number that Mrs. Mitchell had given me
over the phone and walked in an eight o’clock sharp. There did not appear to
be a front desk, as such, but a head with light brown hair and teal glasses popped
up over the nearest partition wall when I shut the door behind me.
“Hello, welcome to the Mitchell
Agen- oh! You must be Sylvia Bishop, right?” The voice matched the smile on the
woman’s face: not terribly thrilled about it being morning, but friendly nonetheless.
“That’s correct,” I responded carefully
as she came around the cubicle wall to meet me. I’d erred on the side of
caution and worn business formal attire, but I suddenly felt overdressed. The
woman was wearing a vibrantly yellow top, an ankle-length skirt in peach and
green swirls, and blue flats. I put on my best polite business face and shook
the hand that she’d extended to me, encircled by several colorful bracelets. “Ms.
Mitchell told me to bring in some documents and that I could start on training
today?”
“Of course! Well, welcome to the company; my name is Jessica, but you can call me Jess,” she said cheerfully, then
started walking deeper into the office. “Come with me, I’ll set you up in a meeting room and le her know you're here, then you’ll probably end up with me this afternoon for training.
Do you need coffee or tea or anything first?”
“No, thank you. I wasn’t sure what
the setup would be, so I brought a water bottle,” I replied, patting my
shoulder bag. She shook her head in disbelief, but kept walking.
“I don’t know how you do it – I
need a cup or two of coffee to feel at all human in the morning. I’ve been
trying to make it myself lately, instead of going to an expensive coffee place,
but it’s just not the same, you know? It’s so much easier to stop by on the way
in and have an iced coffee handed to you on these warm summer days.” I nodded,
wondering if everyone who worked here was extroverted, or if I had somehow happened
to run into the two most chatty employees – Bast definitely qualified – by chance.
She seemed nice enough, but definitely the sort that you could get started on a
topic and let her go for a while.
She led me into an empty conference room
occupied by a table and four chairs, and told me to have a seat while she got
Ms. Mitchell. A minute later, another woman walked in with a thick sheaf of
papers. She had a short afro and was wearing a blue
business suit that complemented her warm, dark brown skin. She moved calmly but
purposefully, and the expression on her face showed she knew what she wanted
and was going to make it happen. She set the papers on the table and held out one
hand.
“Sylvia, thank you for coming in;
it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said as I shook her hand. I responded
in kind and, as I’d suspected from our previous conversations, she sat down and
immediately got down to business.
Two hours later, with the paperwork
out of the way and copies of everything weighing down my bag, Ms. Mitchell brought me back
to the front of the office.
“Jess, I have a meeting in a few
minutes,” she said, looking over the chest-high partition wall. “Can you show
Sylvia around, get her set up in Tom’s old cubicle, and have her shadow you for
today?” She waited for Jess to nod agreement, then turned to me, said, “Welcome
aboard,” and strode back down the hall. I turned to Jess with my eyebrows
raised and she laughed.
“You get used to it,” she advised,
standing up and stretching. “She doesn’t mean it personally, she’s just very
focused on keeping the business going, and an intense person all around. We’ve gone out for company dinners a few times, and she’s like that even when not on
the clock.
“Anyway, like she said, welcome aboard!
Let’s get you situated.” She led me down the aisle bounded on one side by a
solid wall and on the other by a row of cubicles – large cubicles, with high
partitions, but still cubicles – and stopped at the next-to-last one before the
exterior wall of the building. The other desks were occupied with paperwork and
personal memorabilia, but this cubicle was almost clinically bare, with only a
computer and an empty inbox sitting on the desk.
“You can drop your stuff here if
you want, and I’ll show you where everything is. I'd say half the office is out in the
field today, but I’ll introduce you to everyone else.” I tucked my bag under
the desk, mentally gritted my teeth, and set out to do one of my least favorite activities – meeting new
people whose names I almost assuredly would not remember in an hour.
Thankfully, Jess seemed to catch on to my reticence and gave only brief
introductions as we walked, chattering the whole time so I wouldn’t have to
attempt small talk.
“Everyone who sits between you and
me is out working, so we don’t have to backtrack. Ms. Mitchell said you’ll
be working mostly with Bast; he’s in the cubicle to your left, against the
windows, so that will be handy. Eddie sits on this side – I’ll bet he’s in the
kitchen right now; we’ll find him in a minute. Here’s Anya, she’s a real
sweetheart and your go-to if you need anything involving minors or Child
Protection Services.
“This section is our legal team:
Michael and Penelope. Hey, is your son doing better Michael? Glad to hear it,
poor kiddo. Summer is the worst time to get the chickenpox and be cooped up
indoors. Moving on, the bathrooms are here, right next to the supplies and
printing room, and if you head back up toward the front, it’s Ms. Mitchell’s
office and three conference rooms. I’ll show you how to book those so there’s
no overlap if you ever need to meet with clients.
“The most important area is this
way, though: the break room! And I was right, here’s Eddie!” The man standing
in front of the sink looked up and flashed a brilliant white smile from beneath
a neatly-trimmed black beard.
“Jess! Hello again! And who is
this?” he asked, turning to me and holding out a hand. He was about my height, medium-brown
skin and short, curly, black hair. He wore a white button-down and charcoal
slacks, but had a muscular build that spoke to extensive physical exertion
rather than training in a gym. Despite that, his handshake was gentle, as if he
was confident in his strength and did not need to prove it to anyone.
“This is Sylvia – Bast told us
about her a couple months ago, remember? She’ll be with us all day today, half-days
next week to train, and then she’ll only be in on a per-case basis.
“Sylvia, this is Eddie. He’s been
here the longest, and is a fantastic all-around resource if you have any questions. If you
ever can’t find him, it’s a good bet he’s in the kitchen here making a snack or
a drink or something. And if you’re at all interested in obstacle racing, he
will happily talk your ear off about it.” Eddie had been grinning as Jess
talked, and laughed heartily when she finished.
“It’s true, I do love a good
obstacle course,” he agreed. “I keep trying to convince everyone here that it’s
a good backup to have when a case goes sideways and it becomes prudent to leave quickly, but alas, I haven’t made any converts
yet. I don’t suppose you’d care to join me? There’s a small one next week –
only three miles and 15 obstacles?” I chuckled and waved a hand at myself
depreciatingly.
“Thank you, but I’m not really in shape for anything like that. My other job is in IT – I’m much better at
firewalls than climbing walls,” I replied.
“Ah, well, I had to ask. Someday, I’ll
find someone to join me,” he said without rancor. He glanced at the clock,
hanging above the doorway to the hall. “But for now, I have to get ready to
meet with a client. Sylvia, a pleasure to meet you. Welcome to the agency!” He
grabbed a full shaker bottle from the counter and walked out with a wave, leaving us
alone in the kitchen.
“Soooooo… I don’t mean to be
pessimistic,” I said cautiously, “and I’m certainly not asking you to air dirty
laundry to the newcomer, but… how is everyone here so nice? I’d always heard
that every office has a toxic person, but everyone so far seems laid back and
friendly. I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Jess laughed
easily.
“Oh, I hear you. Every place I
worked before this had at least one person that no one wanted to talk to or be
around.” She thought for a moment. “I think it’s because of Ms. Mitchell,
honestly. Most jerks don’t make it past an interview with her – you might have
noticed she doesn’t slow down much?” I nodded, remembering our phone interview.
“She has no patience for anyone who doesn’t pull their own weight or who tries
to start interoffice bs, and she’s really good at ferreting that out in a
face-to-face meeting. I think we had one person who came in and lasted a week
before he started trying to foist his responsibilities off on everyone else.
Ms. Mitchell gave him one warning, then fired him the next day when he tried it
again. I know she seems tough, but she’s always open to talk if you’re having problems. She’s got a vision of how she wants the company to run; anyone who doesn’t
match that doesn’t make it.”
I nodded, remembering some of the
customers I’d turned away for similar reasons.
“Anyway, the fact that you’re here
means she thinks pretty highly of you, and I have work that both of us can do,
so let’s head back and get started,” she said. “Oh – real fast, before we go.
The fridge, toaster, and microwave are open to anyone, though we do ask you not
leave food in the fridge for more than a few days. The mini-fridge under here
has soda and water that you’re welcome to help yourself to, and there’s tea and coffee in
this cupboard. Do you need anything before we get started?” I shook my head, cautiously pleased
at the atmosphere and friendliness I’d experienced so far. Jess grabbed a soda
from the mini-fridge, and I followed her out the door.
“Hey, Sylvia, it’s almost quitting
time. How was your first day?” I looked up from my monitor and saw a head
peering over the partition corner.
“Oh, hey, uh…” my mind blanked, as
I knew it would, and I could feel my face turning red as the silence drew out.
Thankfully, the owner of the head took pity on me and filled in the blank.
“It’s Eddie,” he said kindly. “And
don’t worry – I know meeting everyone at a new place is tough. We all only have
to remember one name, but you get at least a dozen thrown at you in less than
an hour.”
“Sorry, but you’re right: that was a bit much,” I
agreed gratefully. The tension left my shoulders and I glanced at my phone,
sitting on the desk next to the computer; I hadn’t realized what time it was.
“Thank you for the heads up on the time. The first day was good – I learned how to
pull information for background checks and Jess taught me some of the red flags
to look for. It’s definitely… informative.”
“Ha, yeah, you learn a lot about
people and their proclivities in this job,” he said. “One thing I warn all
new hires about is not to get jaded – we often see the worst side of people
here. Keep in mind that most people are still decent folks.”
“That makes sense,” I replied
thoughtfully. “I run an IT consulting practice, and it’s very easy to start
thinking everyone else is woefully inept with computers. I keep reminding myself that
without such people, I would be out of business.”
“Oh nice, I wondered why you were
only with us part-time. That’s not something Ms. Mitchell’s done before, other
than with interns or work-study programs. You must have really impressed her.”
I waved a hand dismissively, not
wanting to discuss the real reason she hired me.
“I was just in the right place at
the right time,” I said lightly. “I’m sure Bast gave an enthusiastic
endorsement, and Ms. Mitchell said you guys were getting busy. I don’t want to
drop my business entirely, but investigating did seem like an interesting break
from staring at a computer screen all day.”
Eddie grinned at my comment.
“You might find they’re pretty
similar, actually. I asked Ms. Mitchell if you could help me on a vandalism
case I’ve been putting off for a bit – it’s basically staring at a bank of
security cam nighttime recordings until you see someone heading for the area in
question, then try to get a good shot so we can id them or figure out how they
got in. They're all low-tech cameras with no motion-sensors, unfortunately, so we have to
fall back on good old human eyeballs. You game for that on Monday?”
“Mm, exciting. You sell the job so
well, how can I say no,” I replied drily, then smiled to temper the sarcasm.
“I knew it wouldn’t always be as glamorous as reading background reports, and
it still beats looking for a wayward semicolon in security code, so sure, I’m
happy to help. I will be in around one o’clock if that works for you?”
“Sounds good,” he said with a
thumbs up over the partition wall. “Well, Sylvia, it was a pleasure to meet
you, but it’s five o’clock, and there are trails in need of running, so I’ll be
off. Have a great weekend!” I smiled and responded in kind, then gathered up my
papers and notes to turn over to Jess, who happily told me all about her weekend
plans to hang out with her friends as she packed up for the day. When she asked about my plans, I mentioned that a friend and I were planning
to go out to the mountains, glossing over the fact that the friend was a potted
plant; no point in making things weird on the first day.
It was nice, if a little draining, to have other
humans around while working, I reflected as I got in my car. Everyone I’d met seemed pleasant to be around. If only because they don’t really know you, yet, whispered the
insidious voice of self-doubt in the back of my head.
“Hush, you,” I said firmly, pulling
onto the main road during a lull in traffic. “You couldn’t stop me from building my
business, and you can’t stop me from this endeavor either.” There was silence
as it retreated back into my subconscious, and I drove home feeling quite
pleased with the day.
