Mason Leland

 

. . . is a writer, editor and father of two, living and working in Sacramento.

 

Work

by Mason Leland

 

 

The trees’ reflection ran like watercolors over the windshield of his car as he rolled slowly down the lonely grey street. He could already smell the burnt coffee and bullshit that would meet him; that had met him every working day for the past 2 years of his life. He pulled his car quietly into the parking lot, slipping it into his usual spot and then he paused.  He allowed the last few remaining notes to burst loud through the speakers, spilling through his ears and into his restless mind before turning the key, allowing his car to sit tired and silent beneath him. He pulled the pager from his belt and flipped it open. 8:03 am. He knew they wouldn’t know he was late, even by a minute, and he didn’t really care if they did. He opened his door and stepped onto the parking lot pavement, already warm from the suns suggestive embrace. He arched his body, stretched his back and legs, anything to shake the feeling that wanted to lock them in place after his long morning drive.

Once again he found himself resisting the urge to climb back into his car. A notion he fantasized about more often than he would ever like to admit. He wondered how it would feel not to care, to steer himself back out across the lonely suburban streets and onto the freeway, the wind tearing through the open windows of his car and etching out a place of freedom in his heart. There was a man inside of him that longed for that freedom. A man that begged and scratched at his psyche every chance he got. But alas, he was infallibly steadfast and responsible, disgustingly so by his own estimation.

Without realizing it, his feet began to take him toward the back of the building. It was experience and habit that told him it was there that he would run into the fewest talking heads on his way in, allowing him to forego the inane chit-chat that he had grown so adept at avoiding since he had started this job. He reached the door, his hand pulling it open, and there it was; the burnt coffee smell wafting through the air like chemical agents, dissecting every piece of calm that he was clutching to in his mind and casting them into the unsympathetic sprawl of the office where his cubicle waited for him just a few footsteps away.

He could feel the sweat begin to permeate his feet, thick with longing, as it had so many times before. He thumbed at the keys in his pocket and could feel them echoing his longing for salvation. His mind began to wander and the smell lingered, tightening itself around his thoughts, causing them to spin lividly out of control.

Then came an idea; a break from the monotonous droning cronyism that had laid his dreams to rest in the recent months. His heart began to beat loud in his chest and his footsteps changed direction, quickening their pace and steering him toward redemption.

He found himself entering into the small break room, his eyes flickering, driven by mischievous intent, and then zeroing in on the small, clear coffee pot that sat unsuspecting on its brown-stained metal perch. A smile broke from his lips for what felt like the first time, and he crossed the room, removing the near full pot of coffee from its nesting place and tucking it under his arm in one fluid motion. He made his way back to the doorway, craning his neck as he peeked around the corner. Finding the hallway dead, occupied by nothing more than the humming of fluorescent lights, he quickly exited the room and took the four or five steps necessary before bounding through the door of the restroom.

The door swung closed behind him and he looked down at the coffee pot in his hands and wondered how it had come to this. He had never in his life suspected that he would be capable of such wonderfully decadent behavior. The notion itself sent a shiver of delight through his body. The coffee sat, sloshing a bit from side to side, but generally looking like it was pretty well accepting of whatever ill will he wished to inflict upon it. He was almost envious of its calm disposition. He had fought and kicked and screamed throughout the past year in his attempts to ward off the impending life of quiet desperation that seemed to be his future. And now this coffee sat mocking him, welcoming his pathetic attempt to get even with the complacency that had so relentlessly and successfully pursued him as of late.

He smiled once more as the realization that he just didn’t care anymore flooded into his consciousness. He pushed open the stall and, placing the coffee pot on the back of the toilet he unzipped his pants and dropped them to the floor. Then, positioning the coffee pot beneath him, he stared into its murky contents for a moment before beginning to urinate into its swollen belly, watching as the surface color changed from greasy black to rusty brown. He topped it off before removing it from its compromised position and placed it back on the top of the toilet. He shook and the last few remaining drops of pee fell carelessly, splashing warm across the toilet seat. Straightening himself up, his gaze found its way to the window and fixed itself on 2 birds that were sitting on a branch outside, chirping lazily in the familiar warmth of the morning sun. He hesitated for a moment, then, without thinking too hard about it, and without washing his hands, exited the bathroom and entered back into the stifling hallway, making his way back towards the break room once more.

As he walked he could now hear the faint sounds of voices, rattling through walls and swimming about the office like rotting fish. His pace quickened and he cut fast through the hallway and into the empty break room. He returned the coffee pot to its throne, and that was that he thought. He stood a few moments, staring into the pot, its façade of immortal complacency seemingly undeterred. Smiling now, big like the last circus clown out of the tiny car, he almost didn’t notice as the boss entered the break room behind him.

“Ah, good morning Johnson,” said the boss as he pushed past him and reached for the desecrated coffee pot, removing it from its perch and filling his sad, crackling ceramic mug.

He watched in awe, his eyes widening with joy, mumbling “Good morning,” as the boss slowly brought the mug to his lips and begin slurping at its contents.

Eyeing him with a quisling expression, one hand on his hip and his glasses tinted lightly with steam, the boss let out a long sigh through pursed lips. “This is some damn fine coffee Johnson. You look like you could use a cup.”

“No thank you sir,” he laughed. “I believe I have had enough.”

And then he turned and walked out the door and down the hallway, the boss shrugging and slurping away behind him. He found his cubicle and sat down, and for the first time in what felt like years he felt a blanket of calm warm him from head to toe. He settled into his chair, a smile once again flashing wide across his tired face.