2.WISHES
She was a born optimist who learned to be skeptical early in life. She was skeptical of people and their words. For one thing, she was too well aware of her parents’ weaknesses and failings, and those of their parents. For another, the world had turned out to be colder and meaner than she had anticipated.
She did not ask for much. She had a university degree, though not stellar, and an employment history, as criss-crossy and zigzaggy as it be. She worked hard and tried to live a safe life so as to avoid hazards and minimize calamity. Right now, she only wished for a steady job where she was welcome and treated fairly from which she could derive a reliable income. With that matter taken care of, she could finally get on with her life.
Violet sits on the bus preoccupied with these thoughts. It is a familiar chant in her brain that sounds off a mixed jingle of reassurance, hope, doubt, wariness and temperance. She walks a fine line to her current job every day. She keeps enthusiasm well in check, for there have been too many disappointments already.
Just in time, Violet perceives her present location. The bell has already been rung. She darts up and out of the bus, hand bag over her shoulder and coat open.
There is a just a short walk to the office where she has been an administrative assistant for nearly three months. The probationary period is almost over. She is trying to hang on.
She deserves better, she knows, but her doubts and hesitations during her senior student years and right after graduation had held her back. She had blown a few unique and interesting opportunities with a future-the airlines, the convention center, the nonprofit society and insurance firms had all offered her careers. She did not know what she wanted back then. She did not know who she was.
Now, passed the age of 30, she still does not know that. The brashness and vanity of youth have faded somewhat, so now she just wants to settle into a regular life so that she can get a handle on everything. Struggling month to month does not allow her the chance to get her bearings and make some real choices. She cannot be choosy at the moment
It is good to have somewhere to go every day, and a well defined role to play. It is good to have a schedule and duties. It is good to belong somewhere and be acknowledged at least a little by some people.
Violet arrives at the government office ten minutes early. Others, who begin a half hour earlier, bear friendly smiles and say, “Good morning, Vi.” She lets herself feel she belongs. It is going well.
The “human resources” manager passes by her along the hall and says, “Hi!” She always sounds chipper and bright. Violet feels too wary of this person to be lead on by this false friendliness. She does not seem quite human to Violet. She can never feel comfortable and natural around this sharp-nosed woman. She is a shadow of big management and does not seem quite real. She has power. She controls the files and is the harbinger of personnel evaluations. She has a say in the hiring and firing. She is often the messenger of bad news.
This notorious woman spoils the atmosphere that would be pleasant otherwise. She has noticed other staff shrink back, or avert contact with her. Some who are bolder suddenly shift gears so that their voices sound uncharacteristically brittle as they bring up odd topics like plans for decorating, weekend escapades and favorite pricey restaurants, signals of middle class rights and privilege. It is creepy, thinks Violet.
Out of the blue, the personnel manager calls to Violet, turning on her heel. “Oh, Violet.”
Expecting to be mostly ignored, Violet stops and stiffens, wondering what is up, but tries to sound calm and cordial. “Yes, Trudy?” (Everyone is told to use first names.)
“I noticed that your birthday is coming up.”
“Oh, yes, it is.”
“We always honour birthdays, around here.”
“Really?”
“Why, yes. We have a break and have some cake. We won’t forget your cake, Vi.”
“Thanks, Trudy.”
“Have a great morning. You’re looking great, by the way.”
Somewhat disconcerted, Violet continues on her way. She removes her coat and hangs it up in the closet. She straightens her skirt and jacket at the mirror before entering the kitchen to grab a cup of bad coffee.
What should she make of this exchange in the hallway? She is not totally trusting, but thinks that this cannot be trickery. Being treated like one of the regular staff is a good sign. Her optimism takes hold.
Glancing at the clock in the kitchenette, Valerie notices she has one minute to spare so she rushes to her desk behind the padded room divider, punching in the “on” button of her computer as soon as she gets there. Her mind turns the stack of files in the tray on her right and the day planner on her left.
Violet works her way through the files, day after day. She reads, checks, inputs data, initials forms, and makes and prints out reports. She attends meetings on quotas, targets, and procedural updates. She reads the office news letter and weekly memos.
Glad to have steady work with pay, Violet feels a sense of accomplishment at the end of each day. She constantly checks the calendar, reminding herself of the passing of the number of days required to complete her probationary period. She strives to get things done in a timely fashion, though not too fast. There is a delicate line between efficiency and showing off to the coworkers, as it antagonizes regular staff when a newbie seems to outdo them. She works on maintaining a casual and friendly rapport with staff, while dumbing down her language with them and occasionally feigning a careful measure of ignorance. She does not speak much—just enough to remind others of her presence and demonstrate control over her position, as lowly as it is. She hides her true feelings and thoughts for the most part. That is playing it safe, keeping an even keel on a steady course without making waves. The end of the probationary period soon lies in sight.
Finally, it is the final week of her probation. It happens to be the same week of her birthday. Co-workers wink and hint of the acknowledgement of her birthday that is to take place on the Thursday of that week.
Violet finds herself relaxing. She is so close to the finish line of this stage of the job and she feels comfortable. Those around her appear to be signaling acceptance and approval. She believes she has been doing everything right.
Violet therefore sleeps better at night. She also allows herself to start making plans, considering that this job will continue and so the paycheques. She starts smiling to herself, trying to correct her expression when she realizes it. She still does not want to appear over confident.
The day of the birthday ritual arrives. As expected, a message turns up in her email account instructing everyone to go to the kitchenette at the coffee break time, 10:30. Violet knows it that the reason for the gathering is to celebrate her. She feels happy to be appreciated like this.
Promptly at 10:30, Violet rises from her desk and makes her way to the coffee area, as do the others around her, murmuring and grinning a little in anticipation of this little reward from the employer.
Violet is the only one with a birthday this particular week, and so the only one whose birthday is being celebrated. She is thus the star of the little show, the focus of the attention for the next 10 minutes.
When she gets to the kitchenette, trying to act nonchalantly on a routine trip to the coffee maker, the staff who arrived before her turn to greet her with a chorus of, “Happy birthday, Vi!”
Violet smiles widely and replies simply with, “Thank you, everyone. This is great.”
Suddenly, the lights in the windowless room are switched off and someone appears from around another corner bearing a candlelit cake. The cake is set down on one of the tables. It has white creamy frosting and fruit on top. The words, “Happy birthday to Vi” have been written in chocolate around the fruit.
Vi feels obligated to utter some noise in response, so she let’s out a mild, “Wow.” The people around her begin the traditional song. She stands there nodding and smiling during the song.
“You know what to do, now,” someone says. Violet bends down before the cake, closes her eyes to fake an indication of wishing, and blows out the ten candles on the cake. “There,” she declares after the last flame has been extinguished. Everyone around her claps.
Then someone, one of the co-workers in her section who sits nearest to her, proffers a small wrapped package. “Oh!” says Violet. “I did not expect a gift.”
“Come on, open it.”
“We always do that.”
“It’s nothing much.” The last voice is that of Trudy.
Violet proceeds to untie the bow, then tackle the tape. “You’re so careful!” remarks someone. “I just rip it open.”
Violet does not like to tear into a prettily wrapped package. She is in the habit of being careful to preserve nice wrapping and ribbons when she can.
Within a few seconds, a box is revealed. It is easy slide her finger into the slot so as to lift open up the tab, then the whole box lid. Set in some shredded packing paper is a ceramic mug. It is two-toned green glazed clay mug, with gradated black on the bottom. “Well, this is very nice,” states Violet, dutifully. “Thanks everyone.”
“It’s our pleasure,” announces Trudy. “We’re happy to have you with us.”
Time is up and the chatter begins today down as every reluctantly turns, remaining cakes enfolded in napkins in palms, and cups of coffee in alternate hands. Signs are heard. It is back to the routine.
For her part, Violet fumbles to get the new mug under her arm, so as to take her office cup filled with coffee and a piece of cake and try to carry it all the few steps back to her desk, but Trudy intervenes. “Oh, Vi. Let me help you with that. Say, why don’t you just use your new mug? Isn’t it nice. Josephine picked that out.”
“Oh, really? That was nice of her. She has good taste.”
“Yes. Here.” Trudy takes the plain office issued cup out of Violet’s hand and sets it down on the counter. Then she removes the present from under Violet’s arm and rinses out in the sink. The coffee from the old cup is transferred into the new mug. “There. That’ll be easier to handle.”
“Yes, you’re right. Thanks.”
“Happy birthday, Vi.”
Violet turns to leave the kitchenette and head back to her desk. Trudy calls after her. “Could you come and see me just before 4:30? I want a word with you. It’ll just take a minute.”
Four-thirty is quitting time. “Okay. See you at 4:25,” answers Violet. She could not answer otherwise.
“Good.”
Violet is curious about the meeting. With her probationary period ending, it is probably about that. Violet does not worry, for she is confident that a good evaluation is forthcoming. She believes that her time will be extended. She believes that there will be good news. She is bound to be made permanent. There is no reason to reject her that she can see.
Josephine, having witnessed Trudy’s request to Violet for a brief meeting, looks at Violet as she passes by and gives Violet the thumbs up. Violet passes by, with a quick glance but does not show any other reaction.
The rest of the day passes as usual. On her lunch break, Violet skips out to get a simple sandwich from the convenience store and returns to the office to consume it. Though she often brings a bag lunch, she did not on this day, but she still wants to eat at her desk. That’s the best way to get return to her duties on time after lunch time.
Precisely at 4:24, as indicated on the computer system, Violet puts aside the file she’s been scrutinizing, logs out of the network, and switches off the computer. She gets up to arrive at Trudy’s office exactly at 4:25.
“You wanted to see me, Trudy?”
“Oh, yes, Vi. Did you enjoy your cake?”
“Yes, it was light but tasty.”
“Yes. Phil’s Bakery always does a good job….So, Violet. Your three months will be up tomorrow.
“Yes, I remember.”
“On behalf of the firm, I’d like to thank you for all your hard work so far. You’re a great employee.”
“Thank you.”
“Unfortunately, management has decided not to extend the position. It’s been a pleasure to have you. There is just no full-time position at this time.” Trudy pauses, with a sly look up at Violet standing before her.
Violet is taken aback. “Oh. I see. So my last day is tomorrow, then?”
“That’s okay, Vi. Take the day off. You’ll get paid for Friday. We’ll mail you your pay.”
“Uh. Okay.” Violent blinks, somewhat stunned by the news.
“All right, Vi. There’s no need for me to keep you any longer.” (Violent notes the double entendre in that choice of words.) “Be sure to take your mug home, now. Take care.”
There is that false friendliness again. Violet wonders how she could have been so foolish as she turns and goes back to her desk. She keeps her head down a bit, and does her best to maintain a composed countenance until she can exit the building.
Josephine faces Violet for a moment as she is leaving her work station. She can read her co-worker’s face. With a sigh, she speaks. “Didn’t you know? You’re position is temporary, permanently temporary. They only bring in an extra person to take care of a backlog about three times a year. They never really mean it when they tell you you could be a full timer. They’ll bring in someone else in a few weeks.”
With what she hopes is an expressionless face, Violet looks at Josephine without replying. She appreciates Josephine explaining the situation to her, though she would have appreciated it more had she been informed of the intention a few weeks ago. She has been duped, and feels that her co-workers have been complicit. No-one tipped her earlier, though they easily could have.
Violet leaves the mug and the used napkin with the remaining icing and crumbs on the desk and kicks over the trash can under the desk. She reaches over the slide a few of the stacked files until they fall off the edge of the desk.
With a spiteful grimace, she turns to retrieve her coat. A security guard, slightly shame-faced and averting his eyes from the scene at Violet’s (former) desk, is ready to escort her away. “Good luck,” he whispers. “Remember, it’s them, not you.”
END