A job is a job is a job, he thought again. So what if he hadn’t worked in months and months? Why was he so worried?
On Friday, he had decided he only had one recourse. He had set up the card table next to the couch, so that he could do the one thing that always helped him when he was stressed—work on his stamp collection. His grandmother had helped him start it when he was eight, and he had kept it with him for close to twenty years, hauling it out whenever he needed to cool down—like the day Sheila had walked out of their relationship, or the eternal waiting to see if he had gotten into his favorite college, or especially after a couple of those bizarre, job-ending accidents that he’d suffered through—who knew those scientists had developed a penguin that could actually fly?
This whole Terrifitemps experience, as happy as he was to get the job, had brought his stress levels up again. So he had brought out his stamp albums one by one and puttered through them for an hour here and there until he was calm enough to do something else. Well, on Saturday, he had needed a couple hours at a time to center himself. Sunday, he worked from about 11:00 A.M. until—oh, about 11:00 P.M. By about 10:30 on Sunday night, he had even looked at the prize of his collection, the Moldavian 3 slotznic first day cover, although he hadn’t taken it out of its Mylar sleeve.
But that was all over now. Today he had a job. He’d have to put his stamps away—as soon as he made some coffee.
Somebody rang the doorbell.
At quarter of eight in the morning?
“Bruce?” Lenny called, hoping against hope that his roommate was actually here for a change. As usual, no one answered. Bruce and Denise must be at her place. Bruce and Lenny had met each other in college, been friends ever since, shared their ups and downs—except Bruce seemed to be able to keep his jobs. Not to mention a steady girlfriend. Lenny felt a sudden panic. He hardly saw the two of them anymore. What if Bruce decided to move out?
All the more reason to take this job.
It must be one of the neighbors. Not that Lenny and his roommate knew much of anything about the other people in the building, but—Lenny decided to go see who it was. He stepped up to the door to look through the spyhole, and looked at someone he had never expected to see again.
He slid back the chain and unlocked the two deadbolts as quickly as possible.
“Sheila?” he asked as he opened the door.
His college high school girlfriend smiled back at him from the hall. She looked much the same as the last time he had seen her this past summer. Her long, blonde hair was shorter now, cut just shy of her shoulders, and her cream-colored business suit spoke of a life in business rather than summers down at the beach. But her lightly freckled skin, her eyes that looked blue in some light and green in others, the warmth of her smile—none of those had changed at all.
“Hi!” she said brightly, as if showing up at your ex-boyfriend’s door at eight in the morning was the most natural thing possible.
“Uh, hi,” Lenny replied. He had trouble coming up with what to say next. After standing there for a moment, he decided to try. “Uh, do you want to come in for a minute?”
She walked past him into the apartment before he had finished the sentence. By the time he closed the door, Sheila was staring down at the card table in the middle of the living room.
“You still collect stamps!” she called over her shoulder. “That’s wonderful!”
It was? He seemed to remember, back when they were dating, that Sheila had found the whole stamp thing boring, or annoying, or maybe both.
“Uh, yeah,” he replied as he walked over behind her. “Listen, I’ve got to go out in a few minutes.”
She turned and smiled again, looking straight into his eyes. “Here I go and show up without calling. I was in the neighborhood and—impulsive me—I just wanted to see you.”
“Uh, well, it’s nice to see you, too.” Lenny smiled back. How did she know where he lived? Lenny’s mother, most likely. She was always trying to get the two of them back together. And right now, Lenny realized, he was glad his mother had interfered.
“I’m glad you think so,” Sheila said, stepping closer. “I know, all those years ago, we said a lot of foolish things to each other. We were too young, really. Now that we’ve both seen a bit more of the world, it got me to wondering.”
Her face was only a few inches from his. Lenny had forgotten how much he liked to be this close. He just had to lean forward, and they could kiss.
“And, uh,” he said softly, “just what were you wondering?”
Her oh-so-kissable lips curled up into the slightest of smiles. She leaned forward.
Bum-bum-bum.
Someone knocked on the front door.
“Somebody you know?” Lenny asked Sheila.
She frowned. “I have no idea. I came up here alone.”
Bum-bum-bum. The person outside knocked a second time. “Maybe I can get them to go away,” Lenny said.
He looked through the spyhole in the door and saw only shadows. The light in the hall must have gone out again.
Bam-bam-bam! The knock was getting louder.
“Just a minute!” Lenny unlocked the deadbolts and opened the door as far as the security chain would allow.
Two men in trench coats stood outside. At least, Lenny thought they were both male. They were tall with broad shoulders beneath the coats. But with the light out in the hallway, their faces were lost in shadow.
“Mr. Mumblemumble?” they both asked together.
“Pardon?” Lenny asked.
“Mumblemumble?” They repeated. Or maybe they had mumbled something entirely new. It was hard to tell.
“There’s nobody with that name living here,” Lenny answered, hoping it had something to do with what they just said.
The second one stepped forward, but didn’t leave the shadows.
“Mr. Mumblemumble. Do you, by any chance, have a stamp collection?”
“Who are you?” Lenny demanded. This was an invasion of his private life. Especially now, with Sheila—well, that moment was probably lost forever. And how did they know about his stamps? It was just like Terrifitemps. Did everybody know everything about him now? “What do you want from me?”
The two stood there for a long moment, staring at him. At least he thought they were staring. It was pretty hard to tell what was going on with their faces lost in the gloom.
“Sorry,” the one on the left finally spoke. “We must have the wrong place.”
“Yeah,” the one on the right echoed. “Wrong.”
They both pivoted away at the same moment and, with only a step or two, vanished down the hall into the gloom. Lenny had never seen the hallway so dark before.
He stood there for a long moment, gazing into the gloom. The lightbulb above his doorway sputtered back to life. A couple more flickered back on farther down the corridor, then over the stairwell at the end of the corridor. All the lights that had been out flared back to life. The hallway seemed almost painfully bright. And completely empty.
Even though he hadn’t heard them go down the stairs, Lenny saw no sign of the two who had stood there only a moment before.
Lenny stared at the silent hallway, then turned and closed the door. Who were those guys? Why had they shown up now? This could have absolutely nothing to do with the job. How could it?
“Uh, Sheila? I’m sorry about that. Who knows who those guys—”
He walked back into his apartment.
And froze.
He had left the loose-leaf notebooks in two neat piles. Now the half dozen notebooks had been scattered across the table. His pulse racing, he opened the notebook containing the heart of his collection, and quickly flipped the pages. He stopped and stared at the empty Mylar sleeve. Someone had taken his misprinted Moldavian first day cover! He could still see his missing treasure; an envelope issued on the d
ay the stamp was made public, with the blue and red ink plates reversed, so that half the image was upside down!
Someone had been working with those strange people at the door, on the morning he was about to start a new job. He felt his right hand curl into a fist. His life might have been filled with poverty, boredom, and lack of female companionship, but, until now, he had his stamps!
And where was his ex-girlfriend? Had the strangers done something to her? Lenny stopped mid-room, his every sense alert.
He heard snoring. He looked to his right, and saw Sheila sound asleep on the couch.
He gently shook her shoulder.
“What?” She opened her eyes. “Lenny? You answered the door. Everything got foggy . . .” She leaped to her feet. “This is another one of those—things, isn’t it? Like that rain of frogs at our Fourth of July picnic? Or the time that sinkhole swallowed my Toyota?” She looked straight at him, tears in her eyes. “I hoped you had outgrown that sort of thing! Now I remember why it all ended.” She turned and grabbed her purse from the couch. “Good-bye, Lenny. I’m sorry I bothered you!”
She swept by him, out of his living room, out his front door, and out of his life.
Lenny found himself very much awake. In a matter of minutes, he had lost both his most valuable stamp and the girl he thought he’d lost years ago! Should he call the police? After what had happened, Lenny wasn’t sure he could be coherent. And he couldn’t be late on his first day of work! The call could wait, along with the coffee. He decided to get dressed and out of his apartment before anything else happened.
***
Lenny hadn’t been out of his apartment this early in a long time.
The sun was bright, the air was crisp. And the subway was packed. Lenny grabbed one of the straps and did his best not to fall into anybody’s lap as the train barreled down the tracks.
He tried his best not to think of Sheila. Her visit felt more like a dream than anything real. So he thought about that missing first day cover instead.
Something that rare would be hard to sell. Once he’d reported it, every legitimate dealer in town would be on the lookout. Who were those strange people? Why had they stolen something that only really meant something to Lenny? How had they even known about his stamps? And why had they stolen it now?
Did it have anything to do with the new job? That was crazy talk. But why did he keep thinking that sort of thing over and over? Was he trying to sabotage himself before he even got started?
An image of Sheila asleep on the couch popped into his head; that moment when she was asleep on the couch, so pretty, so peaceful, as though that couch was where she belonged.
He looked up as the train pulled out of a station and realized his stop was next. Enough of stamps and Sheila. The morning rush hour seemed all too familiar. Once a commuter, always a commuter.
The train pulled into South Station and Lenny managed to extricate himself from the crowded car, following the moving throng toward the nearest escalator. He seemed to remember it being brighter down here. Shadows spread around the support columns. The sign for the donut stand in the corner barely flickered. The now departing train was the only source of light, its bright glow shrinking as it disappeared down the tunnel.
Lenny turned his head quickly. Was that a tall man in a raincoat stepping through the shadows? Lenny couldn’t really see anything beyond the masses surging up the escalators and the stairs. Just his imagination. A lot of people wore raincoats. Why would someone follow him? Did they want something else from him? This couldn’t have anything to do with Terrifitemps.
No one barred his way. No one even approached him. His feet found the first step of the escalator, and he rose toward the light of day. He stepped out onto the sunlit street, a world away from the murky depths of the subway. He had to forget about the theft, at least for the next few hours. He had a new job ahead of him.
“Lenny?”
He looked across the street. Sheila was waving at him. Maybe he should just wave back and keep on walking. The pedestrian walk light was on to the other side. His feet led him across without conscious thought.
Sheila’s smile was more uncertain than before. “I’m sorry I stormed out on you like that. Somebody broke into your apartment. Why did I blame you?”
Lenny knew why. Odd things happened in his life. And, after that, really odd things followed. After a while, Sheila got annoyed. Twice. And, after a while more, she had left him. Also twice.
Sheila waved at the row of office buildings up the street. “I have an interview at Budwick, Budwick, Budwick and Klein. They’re looking for a legal secretary.”
“Uh, I have something new I’m starting,” Lenny replied. “I don’t know all that much about it yet.”
“Really?” Sheila was her old bubbly self again. “I’m glad we bumped into each other again. “Maybe visiting you this morning was the right thing to do. Maybe it will bring me luck.”
She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’ll call you!”
Lenny stood and watched her walk away. Maybe Sheila was back in his life after all.
The bank clock on the corner told him it was 8:53. Maybe he had better get to work.
He moved quickly to the building that housed the temp agency, crossed the lobby, and jumped into a half-filled elevator that rose quickly to the fourteenth floor.
The doors opened. He was the only one getting off.
Lenny walked around the corner to the door he had used for his exit the day before. Two words had been painted on the frosted glass. NO SOLICITORS.
Lenny tried the handle but the door was locked. He saw a small button by the side of the door, with an even smaller sign: RING FOR ENTRY. The door opened before Lenny could press the buzzer. The tall, sallow-skinned man from last Thursday stood on the other side.
“You are early.”
Lenny glanced down at his cell phone. “Two minutes?”
“Still early. Karnowski never lies!”
“Don’t pay too much attention to old Karny,” a woman’s voice called from somewhere deeper in the room. “He grows on you.”
Lenny stepped past Karnowski to see that a small group of people stood behind the tall man. One of them was Ms. Siggenbottom, the austere woman who hired him. To one side of her stood a very thin man wearing very thick glasses, while on her other side Lenny’s gaze was drawn to a striking young woman, not just for her artfully applied makeup and her long red hair, but her totally tight, totally black costume—suit, blouse, stockings, and sensible heels. She looked like she was dressed in business gothic.
“These are all members of your team,” Ms. Siggenbottom began brusquely.
Team? Lenny almost said out loud.
“Karnowski he has met!” the tall man said with a deep breath of pride. “But he does not know my title. I am Karnowski the Ghost Finder!”
Ghost finder? Lenny swallowed those words as well.
The thin fellow stepped forward. He was wearing a heavy red sweater so bulky he seemed a bit like a turtle peaking out of his shell.
“You may call me Withers.”
Lenny felt like he should say something. “And I’ll be working with all of you?”
“All of them,” Ms. Siggenbottom agreed. “And one more. There is a team member we can only meet after dark.”
The others nodded as if this was only to be understood.
“But I have neglected to introduce our final member,” the older woman continued. “The young woman is named Lenore.”
The young woman stepped forward, her well-penciled brow creasing with effort. Lenny found her strangely attractive—where his old girlfriend was bright and bubbly, this Lenore had an air of the mysterious about her.
Her voice was a low whisper. “Say nothing.”
Lenny swallowed his hello. Her pale-green eyes stared at his face with such intensity tha
t Lenny felt she might see into his soul.
She spoke slowly, as if she had to search for every word. “You find me attractive—and dangerous.”
Lenny frowned. She certainly was good-looking. Dangerous? Well, maybe. With all the black eyeliner, her face looked rather fierce.
She smiled slightly as she saw his reaction.
“You find everything strange. You’re not entirely sure of Terrifitemps. Ms. Siggenbottom is an enigma.”
Well, that was all true. Was she reading his mind? She was pretty good.
She took another step toward him, her dark-red lips turned with the slightest of smiles.
“And your name is—don’t tell me—”
She paused for an instant before she announced: “Lance!”
Lenny shook his head.
“Leroy!”
Another shake.
“Sonny?” Her smile was wavering. She snapped her fingers. “I know!” She pointed straight at him.
“Hoppy!”
Hoppy? Maybe she wasn’t quite as good as she thought.
“Lenny,” he interjected helpfully.
“The very next name I was going to say!” Lenore cried triumphantly. “No man is a mystery to me.”
“She wields an awesome power,” Karnowski agreed. “At least some of the time.”
Ms. Siggenbottom clapped her hands brusquely. “The introductions are over. We have more important matters to attend to!” She turned back to Lenny. “You will need some basic instruction.”
Instruction in what? was the next thing Lenny didn’t say. With this group, he guessed a few days as a file clerk were out of the question.
“And we have not discussed salary.” She took a pen from the desk and wrote some numbers on the back of an envelope. “This should be your approximate take-home pay.”
Lenny looked at the numbers as she handed him the envelope.
“Monthly?” he asked.
“Weekly,” she replied.
The number was three times as much as Lenny had ever made, anywhere. For that much money, he would clean elephant cages.
Lenny nodded. “I’m in.”
“I knew you would be.” Ms. Siggenbottom clapped her hands again. “Now to work!”
Temporary Monsters Page 2
