17
Special Request
His fingers stood still on top of the keyboard after feverishly typing on the computer. His eyes canned the lines on the screen, before someone rang his phone. It buzzed on the table until he picked it up.
“Who is this?” He held the phone to his ear.
“Miles Hector?”
“You got the right number.”
“Thank you.” Miles could hear the papers being shuffled on the other end of the line. “You have an appointment at 4:30pm with us. Would you be able to attend?”
“That sounds a little formal.”
“Sir, it’s really not. We would love it if you could arrive for tea.”
“Well, where am I going? Newark?”
“The Ferrule Mansion. We can send a car, sir.”
“Please hold, would ya?” His fingers gripped onto the bottom of the phone while his eyes darted up to the clock. It read three-oh-six.
“I’m at work though.” His eyes scanned the area around him. He was alone in the room at the backend. “Can your guys, um, arrange something?”
“Why yes, sir, your presence is an important matter for us. We will be happy to service your requests.”
“You are one of the butlers over there?”
“Barry Hudson, senior assistant. That is correct, Mr Hector.”
“Listen, Barry. I’m at work right now. I’ll be happy to take the rest of the day off, but you guys need to get me out of here.”
The orange-band tugged on his ribbon.
“Please hold.”
Barry switched lines on the station on his desk, and powered on a radio to the administrative team.
“Admin, can we help?”
“I need the admin to produce a certificate for Miles Hector’s early departure from his workplace today. Send a car to his workplace immediately.”
“Yes, sir. We have his contact information.” The team member on the phone was heard calling for “stat” before Barry switched back. The switchboard buzzed before the red light on Miles’ line turned green again.
“In your email in fifteen minutes there will be a piece of paper for your release from a doctor.”
“This is a forgery or um—“
“When our doctor says a person is unwell, we usually were allowed to help that patient. You could come visit the doctor after your arrival if you so choose.”
Miles took a sip out of his coffee mug.
“When you receive the email, Mr Hector, please forward it over to Human Resources. Our car will be waiting for you downstairs.”
“Thank you, Barry.”
“Absolutely, Mr Hector.”
The phone was held still even seconds after the empty dial tone sounded after the other end has disconnected from him. He plugged the cable in and allowed his mind to wander off. The computer loaded up his mailbox in the background while he took to a few videos online. Miles pushed a finger into his brow until a banner popped up on top of his list of messages, pushing an alert into the tab, and finally convinced him to switch back to the page with the emails.
He could barely see the subject line that read “Early Leave Sheet” before the forward button was clicked and on its way to Human Resources. He went back to his pile of code before his door received a knock. The button on his table sprung the door open.
A thin woman wrapped in a wool jacket walked in with a folder in her hand.
“Mr Hector.” The woman spoke to him while unsheathing the piece of paper inside. “A physician said you could leave early. What’s it of?”
He realized he hadn’t actually read any of the aliments described by the doctor. The Human Resources manager looked on at him.
“Um… my throat is killing me.” He forced his voice much lower, and looked at the manager scribbling on her copy of the letter. “So my doctor wanted me to see him.”
“That will dock three hours of your pay, per article 60— You will also be taken off of the Annual—“
“I’m sorry, manager, but my doctor wants me to leave now. I’m sure we have an exception?” Miles shuffled his things into his pockets.
“If the issue is serious, we can open a file—“
“Thank you.” Miles walked in rushed steps to the door, and made a beeline to the elevator at the far end of the main hall. A man with a bag of takeout barely made it out of the cabin before he moved inside.
“Mr Hector— the department has yet to discuss the terms—“
He found his fingers adhering to the “close door” button. The glass panels opposite the shut metal doors showed a downtown with light traffic passing through. He looked at the pricey-looking vehicles and stared. A ding came from the internal speaker, and he moved right out of the large hinged glass doors.
How much time do they need to drive here again?
His phone rang and buzzed in his pocket. He immediately shoved a hand inside and slid the silence switch. He turned his head to check on the lobby. Occasionally the white light next to an elevator would light up and the doors would open, and his shirt would dampen a little. He would turn his head to back outside as people from other stories moved past him and their shoes clacked against the tiles.
He would trace with his eyes vehicles that looked high-brow, and his heart would beat as a few stopped in front of the building.
His fingers wrapped against the metal edges of the phone napping in his pocket when a car silently rolled up just in front of the slate pavement. It took a long time until it came to a complete stop did the door shyly open. A figure in full uniform climbed out.
“Miles Hector?”
He was surprised by the pace of his feet as he went up to confirm himself.
“You got the right guy.” He allowed his eyes to scan the lighted interior of the vehicle.
“Last four digits of your number?”
“6485.”
“Thank you. Please.” The yellow-band moved himself rearwards across the wide seat, and Miles climbed on.