Charlie Cradle's Wonderful Existence: A Novella

by Scott J. Callaway

  ***~~~***

  An hour had passed and Charlie was relieved that so far there hadn’t been any incidents. Even though she noticed Roxy walk past her a few times, enjoying Charlie’s obvious discomfort about her presence and new position within the company, there hadn’t yet been any attempts made to sabotage her workspace. However, she knew it wouldn’t last forever. There was still seven hours until the end of her shift, after all.

  Charlie dialed out a new phone number to collect a survey. “Hello, would I speaking with Mr. Meydam?”

  “Who is this?” asked an elderly man.

  “How are you doing today, Mr. Meydam?” asked Charlie, but like always she didn’t give him enough time to answer before entering into her next segment. “Doing well, I hope. And to answer your question, my name is Charlie.”

  “No, there’s no Charlie here. You must have the wrong number.”

  “No, my name is Charlie, Mr. Meydam.”

  “Yes and I’ve been trying to tell you that Charlie Meydam died ten years ago. Got real sick, he did. But I say it was his wife. Her soup tasted so awful, I just know she was putting toilet cleaner in it.”

  Charlie rolled her eyes and rubbed her forehead in frustration. She hated dealing with these kinds of people. There was also happened to be a fly buzzing around her head at the moment, and she subconsciously swatted it away.

  “That’s terrible, sir,” said Charlie. “But if I could just have a moment of your time--”

  “That Rosalina was a heifer!” continued Mr. Meydam. “Just a gold-digging double-crosser, I tell you.”

  Three flies now buzzed around Charlie’s head, and this time, minor irritation flared within her and she swatted at them again.

  “She probably was,” said Charlie, instantly catching herself and inwardly cursing her choice of words. She wasn’t supposed to encourage people into deeper conversation. But those damn flies just wouldn’t leave her alone. There were seven of them now all annoyingly buzzing around her ears and nostrils.

  “Well I’m glad someone agrees with me!” exclaimed Mr. Meydam. “I’ve always told Ang that Rosalina was trouble, but did she ever listen to me?”

  Fifteen common house flies as big as the tip of her index finger were madly buzzing around her face. Charlie now used both hands to beat them away from her head, but no matter how much she wildly flung her arms around, she never seemed to hit one. Four kept flying in and out of her exposed ear, buzzing and unbearably tickling, two had managed to dart into her mouth, one assaulted her nostril, and two others were mating on the bridge of her nose. Charlie tried to find the mute button for her headset, at the same time wondering where all the flies came from and why were they attacking her head, but the sensation of her face being raided by over a dozen giant flies was just so gross and horrendous that she couldn’t help but curse.

  “Holy shit!”

  Then, suddenly, as if that was their cue to leave, each of the flies circled Charlie’s head once more and flew down a hallway and out of sight. Well, all except for the one that shot into her mouth and she accidently bit down on. She was still gagging from that one. However, as the flies buzzed away and Charlie had calmed down, she then noticed that all eyes were on her and everyone was deathly silent. That’s when she realized she had failed to hit mute on her headset and that Mr. Meydam was still on the line.

  “I understand your desire to express how you feel about what Rosalina did to my brother,” said Mr. Meydam. “But there’s no need to yell and get vulgar.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mr. Meydam!” said Charlie, wanting to shrink and hide in what little dark corners her cubicle had to offer. “I hope you have a good rest of the day.”

  Charlie ended the call. She felt embarrassed and awful about cursing while on the phone with someone. It wasn’t uncommon for that to happen at a job like this. But it also wasn’t uncommon for those people to be fired soon afterward. She wanted to bang her head against the desk; she was so angry with herself! She couldn’t afford to lose her job. If that happened, she had no idea how she wasn’t going to afford paying her rent. Suddenly, she felt an itch on the back of her head, and she looked over her shoulder toward the newly-constructed office.

  Roxy was standing inside, looking through the door-sized glass window and grinning wickedly. Charlie shot her an angry scowl and held back a few select curse words she was tempted to shoot at her. Charlie knew Roxy somehow sent the flies after her. It was all her doing.

  But none of that mattered right now, because coming down the hallway wearing an angry expression was her boss.

  “Charlie,” said Mr. Director. “I want to see you in my office. Now!”