On Tour

by Christina A. Burke

"Hi Sybil." I gave her a wave. "Thought I'd better come in for a tune-up."

  She stared at me for what seemed like a full minute. "Oh, my," she murmured coming from behind the counter. "What is that?" She walked around behind me.

  I looked over at Mark. He crossed his arms and raised his eyes heavenward.

  "What's what, Sybil?"

  She waved her arms around me and poked at me without actually touching me. Like I was encased in a bubble. "That. It looks like your aura's been dipped in something."

  The woman in the long dress dashed past us, giving a little shriek as she reached the door.

  "What's her problem?" Mark asked.

  "It's that," she pointed again at my aura with a distasteful look. "Her aura's just plain gross."

  I sighed. I had a gross aura. Great, just great. "I've had a run of bad luck lately."

  Sybil stopped staring at my aura and looked up at my face. "I'd say. I can't believe you're walking around like that."

  "I can't believe I'm asking this," Mark said, "but how do you fix something like this?" He pointed at my aura.

  "I'm starting a new job tomorrow. I've got to get this cleaned up. Carol will flip if something goes wrong." Okay, I'm generally not that into this stuff, but when your aura starts scaring strangers, it's time to take it seriously.

  Sybil took a deep, calming breath and closed her eyes. "I might be able to help you, but it's not going to be easy."

  "When is it ever easy with her?" Mark asked.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  "I can't believe I'm doing this," Mark said.

  "I guess it means you really love me," I replied. In addition to the large black obsidian necklace which had to be worn against the skin and uncovered, Sybil smelted us with white sage, and instructed us to ground ourselves by hugging trees.

  "I still don't understand why I have to do this too," Mark complained.

  "If you want to continue to 'exchange energy' with me, then you've got to do it, or I will just get re-contaminated." Sybil had insisted Mark go through all the same aura fixing techniques. He'd balked at the matching necklace, but Sybil had found a steel and obsidian bracelet that he didn't object to.

  We were now in the park at the most secluded spot we could find grounding ourselves by hugging trees. Seriously. We had ten more minutes of grounding by my watch.

  "This is stupid." He dropped his arms. "We just got sucked in with all her mumbo-jumbo."

  "Hug!" I ordered. "Did you see the way that woman in the black dress ran away from me?"

  "She's a nut! And now we're nuts too." But he went back to hugging the tree.

  I had to give him credit. Mark was a pretty good sport. I don't think there are many men out there who would hug a tree in public for the sake of their girlfriend's aura. Actually, the tree hugging wasn't bad. It was kind of nice. I leaned my cheek against the bark and sighed. I just wanted tomorrow to go off without a hitch.

  We'd managed to avoid notice with the exception of a couple of long-haired teenagers who gave us the peace sign as they passed.

  I heard Mark groan. A group of moms with kids in strollers and toddlers at their heels approached. They were wearing the current mom uniform of yoga pants and over-sized T-shirts and sipping over-priced iced coffees.

  As they got closer, I heard one of the kids say, "Mommy, why're those people hugging the trees?"

  "They must be protesting something," the mother answered. "Cheryl, have you heard anything about a protest in the park?"

  They were standing in front of us now, looking at us like we were zoo animals. Cheryl shook her head. "I haven't heard a thing."

  A woman in a baseball cap with a Jersey accent said, "I bet some developer wants to knock down all these trees and put up condos or something."

  "Maybe we should help out. Show the kids what social activism is," another mother suggested.

  I was trying to blend in with the tree, but it didn't work.

  "Excuse me," said the Jersey woman. "Do you guys need some help with the protest?"

  "No, no, we're fine," I said. "This is a quiet, peaceful protest."

  The mom who was hip on social activism stepped up. "We'd like to participate. Just for a minute. To show the kids what being an active part of the community is all about."

  She was so earnest. Oh, what the heck. "Sure. Just pick out a tree and give it a hug."

  Mark groaned again.

  "Come on kids!" the mom called. "Everybody grab a tree and give it a hug."

  Now there were a dozen of us hugging trees. Hard to keep something like this quiet.

  A group of college students stopped and asked one of the moms what we were protesting. "Development of protected land," she replied.

  "No way!" one long-haired kid cried. "Dude, hug a tree, save the land!" he called to his buddy.

  They started chanting: Hug a tree, save the land. "Brittany, get a pic of me saving this tree. Social media will set it free."

  A group of Japanese tourists stopped and took pictures.

  "This is getting out of hand," Mark called over to me. "Time's up. Let's go."

  More college students arrived. The moms looked like they'd had enough social activism; the kids were whining for snacks. Mark and I stopped hugging and headed towards the front of the park.

  "Hey, where are you going?" the Jersey mom called.

  "Um—our shift is over," I said with a wave.

  We passed a group of kids with hand drawn signs reading: HUG A TREE.

  "Unbelievable," Mark said. "You single-handedly started a protest in the park."

  "Ah, no," I said. "You helped."

  Mark ran a hand through his hair. "It kills me to admit it, but you're right. How's your aura feeling?"

  We turned onto Calvert Street, and I took a deep breath. "It feels good. How about yours?"

  "Not bad." His voice held a trace of laughter. He reached for my hand and kissed the back of it.

  * * *

  Monday morning I awoke feeling great. Fears about The Spider's possible rival had faded. I'd had some good snuggle time with Mark and had gone to bed early. My aura was clear, and I was ready for my new assignment. Since I was part owner of the agency now, I guess it wasn't really an assignment, but I treated it like one anyway. Dress professional, show up early, act like you've got some sense, all things that many temps had problems with. Most of all I wanted to make Carol proud. She'd put a lot into this contract while I was off on tour. Now it was my chance to pull some weight.

  With no word back yet from the investigators in Florida, Mark had insisted on following me over to the plant. He'd wanted to drive me over, but I didn't want to be stranded at the plant. I promised I would call him before leaving, though. I pulled up to the guard house in front of the main entrance and blew Mark a good-bye kiss. The place was like three football fields put together. I wasn't confident I could find my way to Human Resources.

  I was wearing a new, well-tailored navy pant suit with really expensive shoes. Well, expensive for me. I'd found the Gucci pumps on sale at a Nordstrom's while on tour. Hey, I'd earned them by dressing up as a pirate for the last six months. I didn't feel guilty at all. I was also wearing the obsidian necklace; I wasn't taking any more chances with my aura. I carried an over-sized purse which doubled as my briefcase and held my lunch, packed by Mark. I thought that was pretty sweet. Who knew what was in it, though.

  I rolled down my window. The guard looked to be seventy and wore a name tag that read "Harold."

  "Hi, I'm Diana Hudson. I'm the new on-site supervisor for Greene's Staffing."

  "Well, hi there. Aren't you a sight for sore eyes? I'm Harold." He leaned on my window like it was 1965 and we were at the drive-in. He offered me his hand.

  "Ah-thanks," I stammered. He winked at me. "I'm not sure where to park or how to get to Human Resources."

  "Go ahead and pull up to the visitor's parking for today. Megan in HR will get you a regular employee pass, and you'll park over there in the future. I'll get you
a visitor's badge."

  I parked my car, grabbed my things, and hurried into the guard shack. "I got to say you're a sight better lookin' than that last fella from the temp service." Harold made a face. "Man smelled like an ash tray. Don't smoke do you?"

  I shook my head.

  "Good, 'cause it'll kill you. Seen a lot of my friends here die from the big C over the years."

  "How long have you worked here, Harold?" I asked politely.

  "Fifty-one years. Started here when I was seventeen, working the pack line in the summer. Went into security a few years later. 'Course you'll meet folks who have been here a lot longer. Cora over in Rework has been here sixty-two years. She just turned eighty." He nodded and handed me a badge.

  I looked around the old guard shack. The furniture looked like it hadn't been updated in fifty years. I couldn't imagine spending my whole life at the same place.

  "Thanks for your help, Harold." I gathered my things.

  "Just follow the signs to HR. I'll be gone by noon today. Jim'll probably be here when you leave. He don't talk much." He gave me a wave. I waved back and started the long walk from the guard shack to the front entrance.

  I opened the big glass doors and stepped into a lobby that held pictures of all kinds of different tampons and prints of previous ad campaigns on old-fashioned panel walls. The old ones were kind of funny, lots of euphemisms. I guess it was tough advertising tampons thirty years ago.

  There wasn't a receptionist, but there was a sign indicating Human Resources was to the right. I felt like it was my first day at a new high school. I was the new kid around here. I passed people along the way, some wearing paper hair nets, others dressed in office attire. I smiled and nodded pleasantly. My goal was for everybody in the plant to know the nice lady from Greene's Staffing. We were going to become a fixture at PMS.

  I opened the door marked Human Resources and stepped inside. A young woman sat at a desk in the middle of the room. There were offices fanned out around her.

  She looked me up and down like I had just stepped off a spaceship. "Can I help you?" Her facial expression said the exact opposite. She had been filing her long, fake nails. There were large diamonds at the end of each tip. She was wearing a tank top that was two sizes too small; flip flops peeked out from under the desk.

  "I'm here to see Megan. I'm Diana from Greene's Staffing."

  She rolled her eyes. "And do you have an appointment?"

  "I'm the new on-site supervisor for Greene's. I think she's expecting me." I added a little attitude of my own.

  "One moment," she said officially, and then bellowed, "Megan! You got someone here to see you!" She gave me a look that said "in your face" and went back to filing her nails.

  One of the office doors opened, and a small young woman with short brown hair and tired eyes stepped out. She was wearing a blue cardigan and khaki pants.

  I waved to her. "Hi, I'm Diana from Greene's Staffing."

  Her eyes lit up. "Great! I'm so glad you're here. Why don't I give you a little tour, and then take you to your office?"

  "Sure," I said brightly. The girl at the desk snorted. I glared at her. Megan sighed wearily.

  We left the HR office and headed down a long hallway with several twists and turns. "Sorry about Sheena. She's a temp from one of the services that used to be here. She'll be on your payroll now, and she's not happy about it. There are some others like her in the office areas."

  I nodded. "So she's working out okay for you?" I asked gingerly.

  Megan shot me a look that said what do you think? "I think she could use a bit more professionalism, but at the time we really needed somebody, and the other agencies didn't have anyone else."

  "How long ago was that?" I asked.

  "Oh, I guess it's been about six months." Megan shrugged.

  "You've been putting up with Sheena for six months?" Nice to know the bar was set so low around here.

  "She's actually pretty good with the employees that come into HR."

  "Why don't I check with Carol and see if we have someone more appropriate for the position."

  Megan gave me a longing look. "I suppose that would be okay. I just don't want to upset the applecart any more than it already is around here. The new plant president was the driving force behind the bid and the consolidation of services. Not everybody is happy with it. The transition has not been smooth," she added.

  I nodded. So I'm not going to win a popularity contest right off the bat. Got it. "So give me a run-down of the problem areas," I said as we walked through swinging doors and onto the plant floor. A sweet, cloying smell hit my nostrils.

  Megan glanced over at me. "Deodorant tampons. Gotta love that smell."

  She took me over to a station along the wall. "You'll need a hair net when you're in these areas," she explained.

  We donned our nets and set off down the cool concrete walkway. To our left and right were racks and racks of boxed tampons. My heels clicked loudly on the concrete. I made a note to wear more sensible shoes tomorrow.

  "As far as the problem areas, I have to be honest." She glanced over at me without breaking her stride. "It's every department with temps. The worst has got to be temps sent to run the machines that make the tampons. We're going there first."

  We turned yet another corner and went down an industrial looking hallway. A steady clack, clack, clack of machinery vibrated in my ears. The hallway opened into a large room filled with individual machines manned by net-wearing workers.

  "This is where the tampons are assembled," Megan shouted over the din of the machines.

  I was surprised there wasn't one giant tampon making machine. A few of the workers looked up and gave Megan a smile.

  "Where's Chuck?" Megan yelled to one of them. The man pointed towards a small brown office against the wall.

  I followed Megan to the office. An older man with graying hair and a big droopy mustache looked up from his desk. He was wearing a hair net and had earplugs on strings hanging around his shoulders.

  "Hi, Chuck," Megan said. "This is Diana Hudson from Greene's Staffing. She's our new on-site supervisor."

  I stuck out my hand. He raised an eyebrow at me. He finally shook my hand. "I hear the transition hasn't been so smooth," I said with an attempt to break the ice.

  He gave a laugh that sounded more like a bark. "Not smooth! That's a good one, eh, Megan?"

  Megan looked uncomfortable. "What Chuck is saying is that we've had some—er, well, mishaps with your temps."

  I wrinkled my brow. "What type of mishaps?"

  "Quality control issues. Defects—" Megan explained.

  Chuck jumped in. "Ya call putting the barrel on backwards a defect! No, sir. These fools made 4000 of them that way. You ever seen such a thing?"

  I shook my head. He threw me a tampon in a wrapper.

  "Take a look at that, Miss On-Site Supervisor."

  I opened the wrapper. It felt really weird doing this in front of two other people. Especially old Chuck the supervisor. The barrel of the tampon was indeed on backwards, making it look like some sort of medieval torture device.

  "Nothin' smooth about that there, now is there?" Chuck glared at me.

  "No, sir," my voice sounded small.

  Megan stepped in. "Diana's office is going to be over by Rework. She'll be here every day, and she'll be in your QC meetings."

  Chuck looked me up and down again. "Well, I'll believe it when I see it. You can start by getting two more temps to run machines on second shift tonight."

  I promised to find him two good people, and Megan and I beat a hasty retreat.

  "He's not always so grumpy," Megan apologized. "The barrel thing was a major defect. He's in big trouble with the new plant manager."

  "So when do I get to meet the plant manager?" I asked.

  "We should probably save that for another day." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. She gave me a weak smile. "Wouldn't want to overwhelm you on your first day."

  Uh-oh that did
n't bode well. This on-site supervisor gig was starting to make playing a pirate look like a breeze. On the bright side, it was giving me something else to focus on besides the investigation in Florida.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The rest of my morning was a repeat of the meeting with Chuck. Meet a supervisor, listen to complaints about temps (all of which were completely founded), apologize, and promise to do better. I was pretty sure they hated my guts. Although, one of them was a younger guy, Paul, who seemed to be willing to forgive my association with Greene's Staffing if I went out with him. I might have an ally in him eventually, even if I didn't date him.

  My office turned out to be a closet with two sawhorses and a piece of plywood for a desk. Megan apologized for the roughness and said I was on a waiting list for a better space. I took that to mean they were waiting to see if I'd actually fix anything before wasting valuable office space on me.

  Finally, at lunch time, Megan left me to my own devices. I unpacked my lunch, smiling despite my black mood at Mark's choices. A turkey sandwich with provolone cheese, chips, and an apple. Nice. The one thing that had gone right so far today. In the bottom of the bag I found a note. I opened it with some trepidation, praying it wasn't another wacked-out scrapbook message. The note read: Knock 'em dead, but don't knock anyone down :) Love You, Mark.

  Tears pricked my eyes, and a sob caught in the back of my throat. I wasn't used to being hated by everyone I met. It was still better than worrying about getting bumped off by a hitman, but only just.

  Okay, Diana, get it together. Time to call Carol and get her up to speed. I'd texted her Chuck's order for two temps on second shift, but I hadn't had a chance to call her yet.

  Tabitha answered on the second ring. "Greene's Staffing, how may I help you?"

  I wanted to get this right on the first try. I didn't have the patience to play "Who's on first?" right now. "Can I speak to Carol?"

  "Sure, Diana. One sec." Oh, good grief.

  "Hi! How's it going over there?" Carol asked.

  "It could be better," I replied with a sigh. I gave Carol an overview of my morning at the plant.