Aggie tucked her tie into the vest of the worsted grey suit she wore. With the necktie carefully held in place with the platinum tiepin, the action was entirely unnecessary, but for once Aggie was uncertain what to do. “Thanks, Gladys,” she said to her assistant, hoping her sarcasm wouldn’t be detectable to the young boy accompanying her.
Aggie sat at her desk, which held a nameplate that read the same as the pebbled glass of her office’s door: “Aggie McGee, Spectral Analysis.” In between the door and the desk’s expanse stood Gladys and a boy who appeared to be no more than 10 years in age. The two could not have been more different. Gladys was tall, beautiful, blonde, and loved more by Aggie than any living person on Earth. The boy was short and could have been pulled from a Dickens novel, dirty from the top of his cap to the worn soles of his shoes. He mostly avoided eye contact while Gladys would not look away from Aggie, imploring her friend and boss.
“He just wandered in off the street,” Gladys continued. “Have you ever seen such a thing?”
Aggie pushed the bob of hair out of her eyes and stared hard at Gladys, knowing full well the other woman knew the answer. “Yes. There are all sorts of historical and recurring reasons that such an event would happen.”
Gladys placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “He’s not an event Aggie.”
“That’s a matter of some debate.”
“You know what I mean.” Gladys dragged out the syllable of the last word in a way that Aggie felt was both juvenile and impossible to resist.
In response, she raised her head and let a long sigh, blowing out her cheeks. Emission complete, she took her boots off the desk and leaned forward, examining them both. “Fine,” she replied a moment later, and stood up.
Aggie moved to the outside wall of her office which, despite being on the 6th floor, was almost entirely composed of tall casement windows. She unlocked one and opened it, letting in a cold wind. After taking a moment to enjoy the rays of the setting sun on her face she turned to face the pair. Walking to the boy, she bent at the waist so they were eye-to-eye. The child dropped his gaze to his shoes.
Perhaps cruelly, this made Aggie smile, but she only said, “Follow me.”
A tone of caution in her voice, Gladys said, “We want to help him.”
Aggie stared at her friend, eyes only dulled by their callousness. “I am helping him.” Smoothing her tone, she said added to the boy, “Close your eyes and follow me.”
As frightened as he might have been, the boy followed instructions, stepping up to the opened window. After a few moments, Aggie instructed him to stop walking. “Now open your eyes.”
The rays of the fading sun passed through the young boy as he stood hundreds of feet above the city noise and traffic. On some intellectual level, Aggie wondered if he could smell the exhaust. Instead, though, she focused on the blossoming wonder in his eyes.
“See? You don’t have anything to be afraid of.”
See the author’s published work here.
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