Sharmaine had no choice but to take the job.
She had nothing and was estranged from her children and separated from her husband; she was forced to take what was offered. She'd become a sort of celebrity, but not in a good way—not with her face plastered all over the news. No one would hire her, except for the one person she felt was beneath receiving her attention a second time. Now, he was her boss. Did she have to swallow her pride? More than that, Sharmaine had to eat crow. The lavish lifestyle she once paid for with other people's stolen money was gone. The people who were once her highbrow friends completely cut her off and abandoned her. In fact, some of the soccer moms she looked down upon, who she reviled and ridiculed behind their backs, worked in the same office building she cleaned. On her first Thursday there, while she emptied the waste baskets in the principal broker's office, one of them recognized Sharmaine. Dropping her phone, Len Dagman made a bee-line in Sharmaine's direction. Grabbing a random computer keyboard, Len drew back and took a wide swing, brutally striking Sharmaine on the side of the skull. Lyle happened to be there, too. His initial instinct was to step in and break it up, but he hesitated at the last minute. Perhaps the incident would teach Sharmaine a lesson, and she'd quit."Fucking bitch!" Len screamed, striking Sharmaine again and again. "I saved up a whole fucking year to pay for that Vegas trip, and I did it with the money I didn't have, and you fucking stole it all, you stink ass fucking bitch!"
Sharmaine had no time to recover or retaliate. Everywhere she tried to crawl and hide, it didn't help. Len dragged Sharmaine by her hair into the middle of the floor and beat her again. Even when she tried to shield herself from the blows, Lens kicked her in the ribs with her pointed shoes or stomped on her hands. She wouldn't stop until she could draw blood. In her mind, Sharmaine searched for the words that would save her from the onslaught, but nothing came. There was no excuse for what she did; she knew it. She knew it then when she was stealing the money, but she was overcome by blinding greed. Sharmaine could only curl up and take it. Lyle finally walked over to Len, put his hands in front of her, and led her out of the office. Gesturing back to Sharmaine, he said, "Somebody help her get cleaned up,"
One of the newer brokers tried to grab Sharmaine by the elbow and help her stand, but she pushed him away. Now limping and groaning in pain, she emptied the rest of the wastebaskets. After that, she limped painfully to the elevator, riding it back to her basement closet, where she broke down and cried. When she'd calmed down, she saw Lyle standing in front of her through her tears. She was startled and nearly jumped out of her skin. He was the last person she expected to see there.
"If you want to file a grievance against Len, you'll have to come to my office to do it," Lyle began. "You also have the option to quit."
"No," Sharmaine whispered her reply. "I can't afford to quit."
"Ok, well, punch out for now. The midnight janitor called out tonight, so you'll have to fill that shift and then work your regular shift tomorrow," Lyle instructed.
"Ok," Sharmaine said while struggling to stand.
"Just to let you know," Lyle took a step forward. "The midnight shift janitors don't last long. So, good luck to you."
"I'll be here," Sharmaine grunted. "I can't afford to be anywhere else."
Sharmaine heard what Lyle told her, but it didn't register enough for her to ask him to elaborate. She went home to rest and recover from her wounds, and at 11:15 p.m. in the late evening, she was back. Sharmaine thought that if she could get everything done all at once, she'd have time to hang out in her janitor closet and cruise until quitting time. She did exactly that. She emptied all the trash receptacles on all the floors, including the bathrooms. None of the floors needed real waxing except for the broker's office, where young, egotistical men postulated their accomplishments and financial achievements while preening like prime roosters all along the floor rather than doing it from their desks. She found whiskey flasks and used vape sticks in their wastebaskets.
By the time Sharmaine was done, she found herself wrapping the cord around the handle of the waxer when a hurricane-force wind tore through the broker's office. The force of it sent Sharmaine tumbling head over heels. It knocked her up against a few desks and hardwood shelves and stopped once she hit her shoulder against the thick glass window. She cried out in pain, still sore from her early beating by Len. There was no break in the action. The deafening sound of drums filled the space, with the simultaneous thud of feet pounding along the floor. The stench of sulfur made Sharmaine throw up, but what proved to be worse was the appearance of thousands of Hawaiian warriors and chiefs marching through the space. In fact, a few of them saw Sharmaine and broke ranks, where they began beating her with the blunt edge of their spears. Some kicked her, while others used their fists. All she could do was scream for her life, but the horrific winds and the sound of the drums drowned out her plea. Before she knew it, it was all done. Gone, as if it was never there in the first place.
When Lyle, the brokers, and the secretaries showed up to work in the morning, they saw a sign on the door that read, OFFICE CLOSED FOR MAINTAINENCE. Lyle entered and found Sharmaine by herself, cleaning up what looked like a train wreck. A second later, he began yelling at everyone when he emerged from the space. "Who the fuck left their liquor flasks and vape pens lying around the fucking office??? Huh? You mother fuckers had a fucking party in there, too, didn't you? Who the fuck did it????"
No one replied but stood there, shocked into silence. "You fuckers talk shit all the time, but now you've got nothing to say? Every single one of you, getchur fucking asses in there right now and clean up your shit! I mean, clean it the fuck up now!"
Everyone rushed in like little schoolchildren while Lyle took Sharmaine aside and told her, "Go home, Sharmaine. Get some rest; take some paid time off tomorrow and see a doctor, okay? The office will pay for it, so don't worry."
...to be continued...
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