Menagerie

  ***

  Half way through the day, he unwrapped his bean-and-cheese burrito and put it to the left of his terminal, next to Glen. He positioned his drink to the right. Then he watched his clock, waiting for the five minutes until his lunchtime officially began.

  Glen stared at the burrito for a moment, then his eyes drooped and he rocked, almost falling asleep as he stood guard over the food.

  Gabrielle’s chair emitted a familiar squeak as she turned toward him. He kept his eyes facing forward on his computer monitor, bracing for another conversation with her.

  She just returned from vacation and had many stories to tell.

  Gabrielle Gutierrez worked in the cubicle across from him, giving her full view of his world, his cubicle. Consequently, he knew more about her than he ever cared to know.

  The closeness of their workstations bred an expected relationship, at least from Gabrielle’s point of view. Tim didn’t mind her, in general, as long as her business didn’t become his business.

  But that wasn’t the case.

  Over the past two years that he worked next to her, he had learned all three of her kid’s names. Through visual and audible repetition, he knew birthdays, food likes and dislikes, and favorite toys.

  He sensed her eyes boring into his soul and finally gave up ignoring her and spun around.

  She propped her hat on the mannequin head on her desk. Digging the heels of her pumps into the carpet, she dragged her roller chair the few feet across the walkway between them. “Have you seen Mr. Hawksworth? He was looking for you a few minutes ago,” she said.

  “Hawksworth, what did he want? What did he say?”

  “Dunno, he didn’t say.”

  “Nothing?”

  “He said he was looking for you.”

  “But he didn’t say why?”

  “Nope. He did look angry though.”

  Tim wrapped his burrito back in the cellophane wrapper. “What do you mean angry? He said he was angry, or looked angry?”

  “You know Mr. Hawksworth,” Gabrielle said, “does it matter?”

  He knew Hawksworth enough to know that a look, a word didn’t matter. When he was angry, it emanated from him. Sometimes he hated Gabrielle’s perceptiveness. Tim checked his fedora and started for Mr. Hawksworth’s office.

  “When you get back remind me to tell you about the Menagerie I bought Jeremy,” Gabrielle said.