Day 6

Okay, I took you on an intense journey yesterday, so let's lighten up a bit today. In this short story, I challenged myself to use the words generated by a random word generator.

THE EPHEMERAL LUMINOUS

I sat amidst the kangaroos and penguins, the chaos on the floor reflecting the entropy in my soul. Around me, the children were howling, the absurdity of their extravagant crisis stripping me of any last shreds of sanity. Behind me, a child was banging me in the head with his stuffed kangaroo, determined that I needed to listen, but I had no more patience. I stood, scattering penguins and kangaroos across the room, and the children scattered after them, the chaos spreading to engulf the entire room.

A bell jangled somewhere, and a voice shouted my name, hoping it would register over the din. I pretended not to hear, and busied myself breaking up an impending battle between kangaroos and penguins, led by howling children in a glorious uprising that seemed destined to end in blood, band-aids, and tears. The voice shouted again, sounding desperate, and I relented.

As soon as I turned my back on the children, the battle raged, led by one five-year-old brandishing a kangaroo in a glorious ambush on a penguin-wielding four-year-old. I shut the door behind me, closing out the noise for one moment, a moment of silence as precious as it was ephemeral.

“Where is my Rufus?” Mrs. Smith stood at the counter, her delicate boot tip tapping the floor in time with her well-manicured fingernails tapping the counter. “I’ve been here for at least five minutes.”

I resisted the urge to tell her that I could tell time much better than she realized, and shrugged. “I can’t be sure. There’s a whole pile of cadavers in there…you might want to pick out your own.”

Mrs. Smith shrieked, and thrust past me toward the small playroom. She shoved open the door just in time to get a face full of flying penguin. The battle was in full throttle, and the room writhed with the energetic bodies of four- and five-year-old combatants. Right now, the penguins were ahead, and I cheered them on silently, rooting for the girls to beat the boys just once in this endless battle. Rufus was being thoroughly thrashed with a penguin when his mother rushed toward the little brat and scooped him out of the fray, her glare in my direction intended to intimidate. It didn’t. I simply didn’t care any longer.

I heard the back door tinkle, and realized that Candace was back from the store. It would be out of my hands now, thank goodness. I imagined my position would be vacant again in about ten minutes, and I would have to explain to my parents why I had been fired from yet another one of the wonderful jobs they insisted on finding for me. Candace was actually the best boss I had ever worked for, but I didn’t want to stay here. I simply hated kids, and this was no place for someone who was even slightly ambiguous about children. Mom insisted that someday I would love my own children, but I informed her that would be difficult, since I didn’t intend to have any.

Mrs. Smith reached the lobby simultaneous with Candace, and began to regale my boss with my myriad failings. Sure, I thought, tell her I’m rude. Tell her I’m cheeky. Tell her I’m…wait a minute, what does she mean I’m a bitch? No, don’t tell her that, because it simply isn’t true…I’m unhappy, I’m snarky, but I am definitely not a bitch. I burst out into the lobby, ready to confront the obnoxious woman and her impossible child, but Candace threw me a withering glance that stopped me in my tracks. Why was it she could intimidate me, something no one else had ever been able to do?

I headed back toward the playroom and joined the fray. There was a spare penguin that had been discarded near the toybox, so I grabbed the handy weapon and engaged on the side of the young girls, helping them push the kangaroo-armed boys back into the corner, the sure signal of the losing side. The boys kept jabbing with their kangaroos, but they were missing the mark with every thrust. The girls were darting and dancing, penguins high above their heads in triumph as they vanquished the boys for the first time in the history of the day care.

The bell tinkled again, signaling Mrs. Smith’s exit. Candace strolled into the room and leaned against the wall, watching the waning moments of the battle. She cheered for the winning girls, flushed from their unexpected triumph, and attended to the wounded dignity of the boys, defeated for the first time in their memory, and by girls, of all things. She snapped her fingers, and like magic, penguins and kangaroos disappeared into toy boxes. Children settled around the perimeter of the room, quiet as little angels and ready to greet their mothers. I marveled at the ease with which she dealt with battle wounds, real or imagined, and brought the troops to an easy truce.

The bell tinkled again, and the next mother arrived. For the next half hour, we were busy bundling up little bodies into snow suits and jackets, and handing over bundles of unrecognizable child to their parents, ready to brave the glacial winds that would blow them home to hot chocolate made by the loving hands of nannies and cooks. Spoiled little rich kids, I mumbled under my breath as one mother snatched her child from me as though I were unworthy of touching the little beast. Why bring her here, I thought, if I am so contaminated with cooties?

When the last child had been distributed, and the last mother had huffed her way out of the presence of mere workers, Candace motioned me toward the office. This was it, I thought. Three whole days this job had lasted. Almost as long as the job with the boss who chased me around the desk for a week until I finally gave him an uppercut to the jaw. My most glorious moment, at least in my mind, but Mom and Dad were horrified. They had gone to a lot of trouble to get me that job with an old friend, and now they were afraid he would never speak to them again. “What about me?”, I thought. “What if I decide never to speak to you again?” Right now, I regretted not having said it aloud.

Candace settled behind her desk, a sure sign that she was going to say something important and life changing. I had not seen her behind the desk once since I started here. Candace was a bustler, a mover, not a sitter. She was a force of nature. Seeing her so small behind that giant wooden desk seemed rather absurd, but I didn’t laugh. This could be the end…my final chance. That was what Dad had said. I had no idea what he intended to do, but I knew I would soon find out, as soon as I returned home unemployed. For the first time, I realized I was in a real dilemma.

“Emma.” Candace began with my name, and I never thought that was a good sign, either. “What were you thinking? Cadaver? Poor Mrs. Smith expected to see little Rufus covered in blood and entrails.”

Was it just my imagination, or was she struggling to suppress a laugh? I watched her face for clues, but there was nothing. We sat for a moment, neither of us speaking. There was no way to answer Candace’s question, except to admit that I wasn’t thinking, I was just spouting out my frustration and anger. I wanted to tell her how tired I was of all these jobs, this “woman’s work” my parents kept foisting on me because they didn’t want me to go to college, to follow my own dreams, to be, in their words, a grotesque mockery of a woman. I remained silent. She wasn’t interested in all that. She had a business to run, and I had put it at risk.

Candace was speaking again, and I forced myself to pay attention. “Do you realize what you looked like, there in that room, holding that ridiculous penguin?”

I shook my head. “Probably pretty stupid”, I admitted.

“No, not at all. You looked…luminous. You were having fun.”

“Luminous? Me? I…never look luminous. I look…snarky.”

“Yes, you do, most of the time.” Candace didn’t make any attempt to spare my feelings. That was all right; I am snarky, so I might as well look that way. “But…just for a moment…a fleeting moment…you looked…luminous. You were leading your troops to victory, a big moment for them, and a big moment for you. Those little girls will never forget you, their general in their moment of glory.”

I lingered over the image. It was pleasant. A general suited me much better than…whatever it was I was supposed to be in this place. A mother? A nanny? Not me…I sucked at nurture.

“I had a bit of an idea…just…well, if you don’t mind.” Candace was stammering, her usual assurance failing her. “I thought…well, I don’t think this job is right for you.”

“I imagined that was what you were thinking. I’m surprised it took you so long to notice.”

“Oh, it didn’t. It was obvious from the moment you first encountered a child. You don’t much like them, do you?”

I shook my head. No use pretending; she could see right through me.

“Still, you’re much too talented to waste. I can’t just let you walk out the door like this. I just…well, here’s my idea. I love the children, but I absolutely hate the business end of it. I thought…maybe we could…sort of switch places. I tend the children, you tend the business. Advertising…accounting…taxes…how would you feel about that?”

I nodded, stunned. I hadn’t expected this. A job that I would actually enjoy, and my parents would never need to know I’d failed. I would just come to this job every day, and go home, and they would assume I had finally learned how to be a woman.

“What? Of course you’re a woman.”

“Damn. Did I say that out loud? I’ve really got to quit talking to myself.”

“Whatever makes you think you don’t know how to be a woman? Or that there is only one way to be a woman?”

I shook my head. I didn’t really believe that, but…well, parental training can leave shards of glass in your brain, no matter how much your intellect told you otherwise. “I’m sorry, I didn’t really mean that. I was just…it was just me being snarky again. My parents, you know…”

Candace patted my hand. “I know just what you mean. My mother is horrified that I am running my own business. She wanted me to get married, have children of my own, and settle into a life that mimicked hers. I really don’t want that. This is so much better. I can have all the children I want, and don’t have to have a man. My wife doesn’t like children, either.”

She stood, and motioned me to trade places with her. I took my place behind the desk. It felt so much more right, so much more me. Maybe when I got settled in to the job, I’d be able to get a place of my own. Then I could go to college, study business, and really be of use to her.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Candace turned back toward me just before she reached the door, and I was afraid I was losing my grip on my new world. “Every now and then, why don’t you come and lead your troops again? You don’t have to lock yourself away, but I promise I will never leave you alone with the children again.”

I nodded. I didn’t have to lie to tell myself I was looking forward to playing general. Luminous…I liked that. I never knew I could be luminous.