Small Untruths

I could be wrong, though that is rarely the case. Often I will offer up my quiet viewpoint. I know that my view is considered by some, discounted by others, and agreed with by a rare few. And then I wait. I am a patient creature. Eventually, the naysayers and disagree-ers come to the same conclusion as I have already given. Sometimes months or even years later. But I do not triumph and gloat over this fact. A person’s lack of clarity and understanding and rapidity of conjecture is their concern, not mine.

But in this particular case, I am fairly sure that my presumption is correct. That new young lass in the office, Clarrie or Carrie or some such, is most definitely pregnant though she may not even know it herself yet. Her movements and energies have grown sluggish where before she was as light and quick as a hummingbird. Her face is pale and drawn, her eyes suddenly older and wiser, seemingly overnight. Yes, she is with child and it may not be an experience she is longing for. In fact, I would go so far as to say the thought would fill her with dread.

Davina, the office accounts lady, approaches my desk. Her very demeanor and deportment overflow with anticipated gossip and the heralding of news. Her eyes are bright and she sparkles with expectancy. Tiny electric sparks fly from her arms and her hair and her ample cleavage trembles and glows with excitement. She greets me, and offers me refreshment. Then she waits. Another must be soon to join us.

The day is heating up and the office is starting to become a little stuffy. I look up at the big white clock on the wall, it’s black hands inching toward 11.00 am. Any minute now. Sure enough, right on the hour, the air conditioner kicks in and a cooling breeze reaches my desk. Bliss. Just enough to bring benefit, not too much to be unpleasant. I shiver with pleasure as the cool air gently strokes me.

Davina looks up. The companion she was waiting for has arrived. It is Valerie, the middle-aged busybody from Despatches. I should have guessed. Valerie looks at me without seeing me and then looks at her friend, picking up on the air of excitement. “What is it?” she asks eagerly.

Davina leans forward conspiratorially. She looks around the office importantly. She lowers her voice. “I can’t say much at the moment,” she says, though I know full well that she has plenty to say, “But I have heard that there is to be a redundancy.”

Valerie gasps, shocked. But I am not shocked. This is old news to me, and the news is confirmed and most definitely true. I know for a fact that Tony Little is to be served with a redundancy notice this coming Friday and will be escorted from the building before 10.00 am, clutching his briefcase and his redundancy payment, his head spinning, and his future unknown. I have known this fact for some days now but no one has stopped to asked me if I have heard anything or if I know anything. People seldom do.

Davina beams, proud to be the imparter of such unexpected and shocking news. I know that this will be the highlight of her day, nay of her week. Valerie is reeling, her little eyes wide in her puffy face, intent on finding out more. “No! Who is it? Why is there to be a redundancy? Is the company in trouble? Are there going to be more redundancies in future?” Valerie, lover of gossip, is also the owner of a strong sense of survival. She needs to know if her job is safe. I know this too. Valerie has not told Davina, but she told Michael the Accountant within my hearing. Valerie’s husband recently lost his job and Valerie’s wage is imperative for the family’s livelihood right now.

Davina shakes her head. Her whole story was the one line. She has no further information to share. She had overheard the word mentioned between two superiors and has nothing to add except speculation. I know this too, as I watched it happen. But she is dying to talk and speculate and build the story, with the help of Valerie of course. Gossip is of no use unless shared and spread around, tacky and viscous. And she will receive no input or information from me. I am a listener. I am not a conversationalist and I am most certainly not a gossip.

“We’ll meet at the coffee shop after work,” says Davina, drawing out her role as the bringer of news, the one source of juicy tattle. By using this ploy, she will remain Queen of Information for the remainder of the day, regardless of the fact that she has no further information to impart. “Don’t mention this to anyone else,” she says, her voice low. Both ladies glance at me, disregard me, and disperse back towards their own departments. Davina’s cloying perfume hovers in the air and I retract a little. I don’t like the smell of artificial scent.

I stay where I am, gazing out upon the office. This is my desk and I have learned that I do not need to leave it to hear of the office tales. The stories invariably come to me. I just wait patiently and they soon arrive. My desk is nicely positioned in a sunny spot with a good view of the room, but far enough away from the other occupants as to enable a little privacy. More news will come. It always does.

Sure enough, less than two hours later, Rob from Sales stops in front of my desk. He is impatient with me and often barely acknowledges me. I know that he thinks there is no place for such as me in a modern office but I do not allow his opinion to trouble me. I really do not care what he thinks. He is rarely in the office. He spends his days’ conning potential clients and polishing his ego on other people’s opinions. However, such is the salesman, and without this type of personality, the company would not grow. Therefore, I am lenient of his attitude and I am understanding of his feelings towards me. The man is destined for an inward-looking life unless he manages to harness his ego and learns to empathize and sympathize with others. But that is his journey and concern, not mine.

Rob taps his fingers impatiently on my desk as he waits for the arrival of his colleague. The drumming is vaguely irritating, but he does not notice my annoyance. Beautiful Crystal soon arrives. I have a lot of time for Crystal. I hold myself a little straighter as she approaches my desk. Not only is her physical appearance stunning, but her energy and love surround her in a sparkling aura. She is truly beautiful, inside and out, and there aren’t too many who can claim that. And even better, she is aware of her power but she does not use it in any way but for good. Crystal leans across to touch me gently and smile at me before turning her attention to Rob. I feel myself tingle where her fingers lightly brushed me. Ah, beautiful Crystal.

Rob is clearly smitten. He leans toward Crystal, all aspects of his salesman persona concentrated on making the sale and closing the deal. He radiates sexuality and attractiveness and availability towards Crystal. He hopefully assesses her, judging if she will be open to his offer. Oh, beautiful Crystal, please don’t be swayed by his untruthful charms. Unfortunately, I can see that she is pulled into his web. She blushes under his gaze. Rob casually rests his hand on my desk, beside Crystal’s small and delicate hand, and he allows a finger to seemingly accidentally touch hers. The jolt of lightening is massive; I am nearly blinded by the force of it. They both pull back, shocked, and they gaze into each other’s eyes. The connection was more than they anticipated. It was more than even I had anticipated or expected. Now there is no need for small talk. I am forgotten. Not that I was ever considered to a part of this meeting. I glower as I watch the young couple. It is clear that with such an intense sexual pull the young people have eyes and feelings and yearnings only for each other.

Rob clears his throat and stands upright, struggling to gain the upper hand and assert his alpha male personality. He still looks shocked by what has just happened. I watch silently as Crystal, beautiful Crystal, struggles between her goodness and her almost overwhelming desire to leap at Rob and kiss him passionately. Her struggle is real. She is not one to throw herself at men but the force of Rob’s magnetism has rocked her.

“Can I meet you for a drink after work?” Rob asks.

Crystal looks down, her lashes lowered to hide her expression and modestly cover her raw lust. “I would love to,” she murmurs. They agree on a meeting place and the couple part ways, one last lingering look exchanged between the two.

I sit sadly at my desk, alone again. I know that my appearance would never allow me to have a close and intimate relationship with someone such as Crystal, but I cannot help but feel downcast. If only my physical form was more in keeping with her expectations. If only, if only, if only. I rouse myself. I don’t usually give into such morose thoughts. Generally, I am happy enough with my lot. I have a good life. I am healthy and well. I can happily enjoy the feel of the sun and the freshness of the air. I am involved in the lives of those around me, even if it is from a peripheral vantage point. I have no complaints. I should not dwell on what might have been if I’d been served a different dish in the great buffet that is life.

It is now nearly time for the office to close and for the occupants to head home. Already the early leavers have departed. The office is emptier than it was earlier, the clerks and salesmen and managers gone for the day. Edward, the Senior Manager, stops by my desk. Edward and I have a long history. It was his wife who first found me and encouraged him to appoint me to my role in the office. I am grateful to her, and Edward has kept a benevolent view towards me since my placement in this position. He will often stop by to compliment me on my looks or on my health, and I know that he feels confident discussing issues that trouble him in front of me. For he trusts me and he knows his words will go no further.

Edward sighs and drops a pile of documents on the surface of the desk. He stares off into the distance for a moment. Penny, the Payroll Clerk, waves a hand to capture his attention. “Edward? Do you have a moment?”

I watch as he moves across the office towards Penny’s desk. From this angle, I can clearly see the thinning hair on the crown and back of his head. I wonder briefly if he is aware of the extent of his balding. I picture his wife’s pleasant and friendly face, her love for her husband obvious in every glance she directs his way, every hand she places on his arm. I doubt that she would have told him that he has already lost enough hair to allow his scalp to show through the wisps. She does not strike me as the type of person who would ever cause another to feel anxious or less confident.

Penny is looking up at her manager, gesticulating animatedly while she talks. I do not know Penny well. She is a straightforward and business-like person. I do know that she has no time for ones such as me in an office environment. She has never, not once, approached my desk to pause a moment and chat with a colleague, comment on my occupancy in the office, or offer me refreshment. I do not hold this against her. Penny is here to do her work, and by all accounts, she does it well.

The office is now emptying rapidly. The black hands of the clock are now well past the 5.00 pm mark. Someone switches the air conditioner off and the sudden change in low-level noise is at first difficult to comprehend. The office begins to settle into the quiet stillness of its night-time hours. The harsh overhead fluorescent lights are switched off, leaving just the lights on the walls remaining. The office transitions quickly into its after-hours persona. Penny nods her head in response to some Edward has just said. She turns off her computer and begins to pack away her documents and papers, her movements brisk and efficient as always.

The Senior Manager says goodbye to the few remaining staff as they leave and he walks back over to where I wait. Edward shuffles his papers on my desk, fanning them out, then reshuffling them again. He does on this occasion appear to be quite troubled. He has not yet even glanced at me, let alone mentioned my state of health. Which is not like him at all. Eventually, he looks up and smiles at me and I feel myself blossom under his kind stare. “You are looking wonderful,” he says. “Your stable influence in this office is much appreciated. You bring a refreshing glow to this dreary corner and I am pleased to see you flourishing so well. And I am thankful that my wife was persistent enough to argue for your placement.”

I blush, I cannot help myself. I bow for a moment, then I hold myself proudly upright again. “Thank you, Edward. Now please tell me what concerns you.”

Edward sighs and again gazes off to a distant corner. He has no words for the moment. Perhaps he does not even know what exactly it is that is troubling him. I wait. He sighs again. “The world is changing,” he says eventually. “Business is changing.” He gestures around the now empty office. “This business is changing. And sometimes I fear whether I can keep up with it all.” He sighs again and pushes himself away from my desk. “Good night.” He leaves the office, switching off the lights and air conditioner as he goes.

Tomorrow is another day. Within hours the early arrivals will be here and the fates and fortunes, lives and opportunities, successes and failures, truths and untruths, of the office inhabitants will complete another day under my watchful gaze.

For I am the Peace Lily, and my abundance of soothing green leaves and white lily-like flowers oversee the daily ebb and flow of office life.