Mission Improbable-5-1
2054 Words
BY TEN, CARRIE HAD dealt with four complaints in a similar way. Maybe she was not exactly following procedure, but when she had more time to learn the ropes she would improve, she was sure. This job is a piece of cake, she thought, and as she had that thought, she noticed that cake was being shared around the office. Everyone had put their customers on hold and they were all chatting and eating.
No one had brought her any cake. Carrie swivelled her chair round to face her desk and buried her head in her file, trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed what was happening.
“It’s Jerry’s birthday today,” said a male voice. “I thought you might like some cake.” Carrie looked up. It was Mr. Handsome, plate and fork in hand, smiling at her.
“I’d love some,” said Carrie, accepting the plate and immediately forking a piece of rich chocolate cake into her mouth. “Oh, this is delicious,” she said, spitting crumbs.
“Yes, Mary made it. She does a lot of baking.”
“It’s wonderful.” That was so nice of him to bring me some cake, she thought. He must have seen I was left out. The man propped himself on her desk, and her heart lifted.
“How are you getting on?” he asked.
“Oh, fine.” Carrie paused. She chewed and swallowed. “Well, actually, I tell the customers we’ll do something soon and hang up.”
The man laughed. “That’s one way of dealing with complaints, I suppose.”
“I’m trying my best, but what else can I do? I’ve no idea where all those forms are that are mentioned in my file, and I don’t know what most of this stuff means. In fact, I don’t know what any of this stuff means.”
The man waved dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. No one from higher up ever said as much, but I think the idea is to frustrate the customers so much they give up complaining. The last person who took the job didn’t last more than an hour. He’s the reason you don’t have your own phone.” He nodded at a dent in the wall.
Carrie’s eyes widened. “He threw it at the wall?”
“Maintenance haven’t got around to supplying a new one. It might take a while.”
“Doesn’t matter. I can use all of yours. It isn’t like I’m on the phone for long.” She shovelled another large piece of cake into her mouth. It was delectable.
“I’m Dave, by the way.”
“Carrie.”
“Nice to meet you, Carrie.” He stood to leave.
“Hey, Dave, I’m new in town. I don’t suppose, tonight, maybe...?”
“Oh, you’re having a housewarming?”
Carrie closed her eyes as she ate the last mouthful of sweet, moist, crumbly cake. She nodded absently.
“Sure, I’ll come over. About seven?”
“Mmmm...” Carrie sighed in satisfaction and sucked chocolate cream from her teeth. As Dave left, she realised he had agreed to a date. Her first day at her new job was getting better and better.
A few minutes later the gum-chewing woman arrived to take her plate.
“Thanks,” said Carrie. “Wait a minute. Can I ask you something?”
The woman paused, holding the plate in midair.
“That guy, Dave, is he, you know, attached?”
“Don’t know. Don’t think so.”
“Oh good. He’s gorgeous, don’t you think? And he’s got great taste in clothes.”
The woman smirked. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but thought better of it, and walked away laughing.
Chapter Five – Date With DisasterTHREE LARGE GLASSES of wine supplied Carrie with plenty of Dutch courage by seven o’clock that evening. She’d been very forward in inviting Dave to her place almost as soon as she met him, but why waste time? A guy like that wouldn’t be single for long. You had to take your opportunities when they appeared or miss out.
It was also silly of her to invite an almost complete stranger into her home, but she didn’t think the kind of men her mother warned her about offered you cake at work.
She was pouring herself a fourth glass of wine when the doorbell sounded. Swaying slightly, Carrie held the door open for Dave. He was carrying a bottle and had changed from his work clothes into a casual jacket, black T-shirt and close-fitting jeans.
“Hi, Dave.” Carrie piped. She cleared her throat. “Hi, Dave, come in.”
He handed Carrie the bottle and looked around as he entered the hallway. “Am I the first to arrive?” He took off his jacket and hung it on the hat stand.
Closing the door, Carrie thanked him as she took the bottle, then said, “I beg your pardon?”
“Am I the first arrival? To your party.”
“Party?”
“You said you were having a housewarming.”
“Did I?” Carrie thought back. Her mind was a little foggy, but she was quite sure she hadn’t said that. Why would she invite other people to come between her and this handsome hunk? “Err...” She didn’t know what to say.
“Oh, it looks like there’s been a misunderstanding,” said Dave. There was a pause. “Maybe I should—”
“Oh, don’t go,” exclaimed Carrie as Dave took his jacket. “You’ve only just got here. I’m sorry, I probably wasn’t clear at work. First day nerves or something.”
Dave grimaced. “Sorry, Carrie, but I think maybe you’ve got—”
“Can’t you stay a little while? I’m new in this area and I don’t know anyone.” Carrie winced at the whiny tone in her voice.
Hesitating, Dave said, “What’s that scratching?” The noise was coming from Carrie’s living room door.
“Oh, that’s Rogue. He wants to say hello.”
“You’ve got a dog? Great! Can I meet him?”
Carrie opened the door, and Rogue bounded out, leapt up and began licking Dave’s face as though he were a long lost friend.
“Get down, Rogue,” said Carrie. “Dave’s a guest. Be good.” The dog dropped onto his hind quarters and wagged his tail furiously.
Dave was looking closely at the dog’s face. He swallowed hard. “Wow, he’s...”
“I know! He’s so handsome, isn’t he?”
“Well, I’m not sure...I’d go quite that far. I mean, he’s very...what I mean is...” Dave was watching Carrie’s expression. “You could say he’s kind of unusual-looking.”
“What do you mean?” Carrie’s heart sank. Was Dave going to be like Barry and hate her pets? Unusual-looking? Rogue was the best-looking dog in the world. Okay, his eyes bulged out a bit and the left side of his face didn’t match the right, but when she first got him from the rescue centre, she couldn’t believe he’d waited for months to be picked. She’d snapped him up right away and felt a little guilty for not choosing a less attractive dog who might struggle to find a home.
Dave was patting Rogue and looking towards the door.
“So you like dogs, do you?” asked Carrie. “Why don’t you stay and get to know Rogue a bit better?” She grinned hopefully.
“Hmmm, okay.”
“Yes!” Carrie clapped her hands.
“But there’s a Leonardo DiCaprio biopic on tonight. Do you mind if we watch it? I’m recording it, but I never seem to get a chance to watch anything these days, and I really wanted to see it.”
“Leonardo DiCaprio?” Carrie shrugged. “Okay.” She went to the kitchen for another glass while Dave went into the living room and turned on the television. The bright orange jumpsuit and pile of strange equipment was still on her kitchen table. Carrie had been ignoring it since she came home, uncertain of what she should do with it all. The Government would definitely be interested, but they would have also have a lot of difficult questions she couldn’t answer without them locking her up. She wondered if she could put the stuff out for recycling. Most of it seemed kind of metallic.
“It’s starting,” called Dave.
He was sitting in a corner of the sofa. Carrie plonked herself down in the middle. Dave eased closer to the edge. She handed him a glass of wine, and leaned back, resting her head on the cushions. Photographs of Leonardo DiCaprio as a baby were scrolling across the TV screen.
“Born the eleventh of November, 1974,” said Carrie, simultaneously with the narrator.
“Well done,” said Dave. “You’re a fan, too?”
“Oh no,” said Carrie. “I read it somewhere. I remember stuff like that. I’m a mine of useless information, but it comes in handy for doing pub quizzes.”
“I like pub quizzes too. What else do you like doing?”
“Bagua Zhang, an ancient Chinese martial art. It’s so cool. I’ve been doing it since I was thirteen. Do you want me show you some moves?”
“Er, no, that’s okay. I’m a bit of a film buff myself.”
Carrie nodded. “Makes sense.” Leonardo DiCaprio’s role in What’s Eating Gilbert Grape was being discussed in the documentary.
“He’s a great actor,” said Dave.
Carrie shrugged. “I suppose.”
Rogue was lying across her feet, and Toodles was in hiding somewhere, waiting for her to walk past unsuspectingly, no doubt. Such a sweet cat. Carrie was very, very relaxed, and the wine was making her head swim. She stole a look at Dave’s profile from the corner of her eye. He was so good-looking. Almost as handsome as Rogue.
Dave caught her looking at him, and she quickly looked away. He went back to watching the TV.
Carrie was sleepy. She yawned and stretched out her arms. Her right arm just happened to rest across the back of the sofa, behind Dave. He edged away. Carrie’s arm began a slow descent down the sofa back. As it touched Dave’s shoulders he scooted forward so that her arm fell onto the cushions.
He turned. “What are you doing?”
“What? I’m not doing anything.” Carrie’s cheeks flushed.
“You’ve had quite a lot to drink, haven’t you?”
“N-no...” She didn’t think so, anyway.
Dave took the remote control and turned down the volume on the TV. His expression became kind but serious. Carrie blinked. The evening didn’t seem to be going as planned.
“Carrie, it’s okay, I don’t mind. But I’m gay. I don’t make a secret of it, so I was a bit surprised at your behaviour. You only met me today, so of course you didn’t know.”
“You’re...oh.” Carrie’s head was suddenly painfully clear. “Sorry,” she said in a small voice.
“No, really, it’s okay. You don’t have anything to apologise for. It’s just a misunderstanding.” Dave turned up the TV volume and settled back. Carrie shifted to the middle of the sofa and wondered if she should move farther away, just to make clear how well she understood. The sound of the biopic commentary seemed to echo in the growing silence.
She couldn’t bear it any longer. “I suppose that happens to you a lot,” she blurted. “I mean, women...” She couldn’t think how to complete the sentence without drawing more attention to her terrible faux pas.
Without taking his eyes from the TV, Dave replied, “No, actually.”
Carrie wished the sofa cushions beneath her would slide apart so she could slip smoothly between them and down into the dark recess beneath, from which she would never, ever emerge.
Another silence stretched out. Carrie was acutely aware of Dave’s presence next to her, heavy and still. Shots of Leonardo DiCaprio flashed across the TV screen, but she couldn’t make sense of what the narrator was saying. He seemed to be speaking through cotton wool.
Dave stretched and let out a long, fake yawn. “You know, I’m really tired. I think I’ll catch the rest of this at home.”
“Don’t you want to see the rest of the programme?”
“No, like I said, I’m recording it. I’ll show myself out.”
Carrie’s face burned. “Okay, then.”
“See you at work on Monday.”
“Yes, see you.” As Dave left the room Carrie buried her head in her hands. “You stupid, stupid woman,” she mumbled. “You stupid—” Her head jerked up. The direction Dave left the living room had registered. He’d gone into the kitchen, probably to put his glass away. The kitchen, where a fluorescent orange jumpsuit and those weird, inexplicable objects were. She jumped up. “Dave,” she called.
A green glow appeared in the open doorway, and Rogue began to bark. “Dave!” From a high shelf behind her came Toodles’ yowl. Carrie ran into the kitchen. The under-sink cupboard door was open, and a glowing green mist was spilling from it. She was too late. Dave was nowhere to be seen. He must have been sucked through the mist and into that place with the terrible bug alien. She would have to go after him.
Hesitating, she looked from the open cupboard door to the table and back again. Should she take all that stuff the creature had given her? The bag to hold it all was in her bedroom, and the mist was beginning to fade. As the green glow dwindled, the cupboard door began to swing closed.
“Dave,” shouted Carrie, as she dove through the remaining gap.
Chapter Six – Bombardment“OW,” CRIED CARRIE AS the top of her head struck a hard surface. “I’ve got to stop doing this.” Sitting up, the first thing she noticed was that she wasn’t in the ceramic building where she had encountered the insect alien. The second thing she noticed was the sound of whimpering.
The hard object her head had struck was a massive boulder, and the whimpering was coming from Dave, who was crouched next to it. He was curled in a fetal position, his arms over his head.
“C—C—Carrie, what’s happening? Where are we?”
Surrounding the boulder was an empty, dusty plain. To their left, in the distance, was what looked like a forest of single, massive, red leaves, stiffly arched. Behind them, a pale yellow sea lapped sluggishly at the shore. The boulder, which was the same off-grey colour as the plain, rose twenty feet high, and above it a light mauve sky softly glowed.
- Writer
