The Day the Siren Stopped Page 2

  The quiet of the office ended when the door opened to admit a blustering Phillip Buggerby, the owner of Country Real Estate and a really upstanding good old boy among the townspeople. He glanced into the side office, and seeing Kathy Mae, smiled before going into his own office at the rear of the building. Kathy Mae finished, stood up, and walked to the counter to hand over her completed forms. Mrs. Wade sat typing, either unaware or unconcerned about receiving the document.

  “Mrs. Wade would you show our applicant into my office please?” Phillip Buggerby announced quite audibly from several rooms away. Apparently they didn't have an intercom.

  “Phillip, I haven’t even looked at her application for you yet!” she protested. “Don't you want me to screen the applications like I always do?”

  “No need,” Mr. Buggerby retorted. “Send her in.”

  Kathy Mae walked in the direction of his voice, and then seated herself in a small chair in front of Phillip’s large desk as he indicated for her to do. He reached out his hand to receive her tightly grasped application, and she gave it to him. He read it for a while, then looked up at her and smiled.

  “How you doing today?” he asked pleasantly.

  “Fine,” she said, thinking, so far, I am.

  “How is that aunt of yours?” Phillip said, giving her a big grin.

  “She's fine, too,” Kathy Mae answered, becoming very nervous once she realized that he already knew everything about her.

  “I need someone who can work starting today,” he said bluntly. “You are the only applicant since last Tuesday. The only problem I see is that you have a job at the library. You would have to quit it. I need every ounce of work you got in you girl. I expect you to be on time, and to learn a lot of new things—quickly. It doesn't bother me a bit that you don't have much experience. I'd rather train you my way from the start. But, you have to be willing to work hard. Sound like you still want to work here?”

  “I do,” she said. “I really want to work here—more than anything.”

  “Okay, can you start today then?” he said.

  Kathy nodded and asked almost as a second thought, “Could I ask what is the pay rate here, sir?”

  “Oh, yeah, that little detail,” he joked, “It's $355.00 a week. I hope that works for you, and we have health insurance, dental and eye. But don’t go getting yourself pregnant on that account. You hear?” he joked, offering her a hand to shake.

  She took it in shock, standing with her mouth hanging open in amazement. It only closed to make a smile, a sincere smile that came from a happy place deep inside her which hadn't been touched in many years.

  She followed Phillip through the small corridor and to another room. Inside she saw a mountain of papers, and a table.

  “Sit here,” he said. “I have some paper work that you need to fill out. W-9s and all, then we've got several videos for you to watch—mostly government required stuff on safety. Any questions?”

  “Yes sir, may I call my Aunt to tell her that I will not be home for lunch?” Kathy Mae asked, not knowing what to expect—from him or from her aunt.

  He showed her the phone which was hidden from view behind the stacks of papers, then he left her to finish attending to the requirements of being newly hired.

  “Hello, this is Anna,” she answered gruffly, “Who’s this?”

  “Auntie, it's me Kathy Mae,” she said quickly, “I got a new job starting right now, so I won't be home until suppertime. Just calling so’s you don’t worry.”

  “A job?” she said with a degree of disbelief, “Did you go to that there gentleman’s club? I thought that's what you did!”

  “No, I did not go there,” she answered, wanting to get off the phone, but wanting also to make her choke on those harsh words. “I am now working at Country Realty, in the office.”

  “Is that so?” snarled Aunt Anna, “So, now Miss Snippety's got a real job, so you think you're too good to help out around here? And to make dinner or lunch?”

  “Sorry, I have to work,” she answered. “Guess you'll have to go get it done by yourself.”

  Kathy Mae replaced the receiver without saying good-bye.

  It was over. Except it wasn't, not quite yet. She still had to go back there at the end of the day. The sounds of shuffling paper and Mrs. Wade answering the phone were the only reminders that she was not alone in the office. The day moved slowly as she fumbled through training materials, the employee handbook, and a series of informational pamphlets.

  Mrs. Wade did her best to ignore her. Kathy Mae did not mind this at all, and in fact, she preferred being ignored to the kind of negative attention she expected based on their earlier exchanges. She spent her alone time imagining how angry her aunt would be when she announced she was going to move out. Perhaps Aunt Anna had already anticipated the inevitability of this happening.

  At lunch break Kathy Mae decided she would stay at the office. Without a car, and with the only option being pastries from the Do-nut Dip within reasonable walking distance, there was nothing for her to eat anyway.

  Mrs. Wade wanted very much to get away from the office, however, and asked if Kathy Mae would mind sitting at the front desk in case any clients happened to drop by. Kathy Mae's momentary hesitation was interpreted as payback to the rudeness with which she had been treated earlier in the day. To smooth over the friction between herself and the person who had been thrust upon her as a new co-worker, Mrs. Wade nicely offered to bring her back a sandwich from Subway to compensate for her help with manning the desk. Kathy Mae quickly accepted the offer, grasping the situation immediately. Things may work out well between them after all, she thought.

  After everyone was gone, Kathy Mae began reading the guidelines on phone etiquette when the bell attached to the entrance door jingled. She didn't look up from her pamphlet until the sound of footsteps stopped at her desk.

  Standing before her was a man she had never seen before, and she was puzzled, thinking she knew everyone in town. He was tall, about six feet, with black hair pulled into a ponytail. His features gave him somewhat of a Native American look. His clothing, a flannel shirt over a green tee shirt and jeans with work boots, made him appear to be a man who worked in construction—perhaps with one of the crews that moved through the area working for the railroads or on the freeway. His dark-green eyes stared at her intently. Kathy Mae sat stunned and somewhat mesmerized by his dark good looks and serious demeanor.

  Forcing herself to consciousness, and suddenly aware of the expectations of her job, she addressed him non-verbally with her soft brown eyes, feeling an immediate and intense connection between them. It was a look she had never shared with any man before. In only an instant, she knew the feeling of having a man desire her, and that had never happened before. Well, it had, but not in any way with which she had participated. It was a feeling that swept her away.

  “Hi there, I’m Mason Wheelwright,” he said, breaking the silence. “I came in to get the final paperwork for my father’s house.”

  The warmth continued in spite of the intrusion of words between the unspoken message being transferred between them. Her lips parted to speak, but paused, open, as if inviting a kiss. The words hung on desires that blocked her thinking temporarily.

  “Paperwork?” she said, jolting herself alert. “I'm new. Today's my first day, so it might take me a minute to figure out where it is. Can you give me a little more information?” Kathy Mae was fumbling with papers on Mrs. Wade’s desk, not knowing what any of it was. She scanned through several stacks, looking for something that contained the words father and house.

  “The name is Wheelwright; it should be listed under Steven Wheelwright,” he said, trying to help, seeing her frustration.

  “I’m looking,” she assured him, unnecessarily. It was obvious that she was.

  Around on the other side of the desk, she found a file cabinet with labeled manila folders, and Wheelwright was the last one in the drawer.

  “Here it is, I found it,” she
smiled, pleased to accommodate him—her first encounter with a customer, as well as her first encounter with true animal magnetism.

  “Thank you, ma'am,” he said, then asked, “What is your name?”

  “I’m Kathy Mae Graves, Mr. Wheelwright,” she said, feeling strange about addressing him so formally while fluttering inside with intimate sensations. The tips of her fingers touched his hand as she passed the folder to him.

  “Kathy Mae, I like that name,” he said, standing still before her with his files in hand.

  She waited and smiled involuntarily as he looked her over suggestively, as if she were a pheasant under glass. This made her a little uncomfortable, yet stimulated profoundly.

  Outside, a rain shower began to fall, the soft pitter-patter hitting the aluminum roof of the realty office and embracing her with a comforting feeling. She loved the rain, and the way it smelled out in the fields, cooling the heat of a bright afternoon sun, drifting down to earth, washing everything clean and soothing the sharp edges of dried bristles of prairie grass. Mason must have noticed the change in her demeanor, and he smiled. But, he still stood there, as if waiting for her to say something.

  “I love the rain, it’s so soft and so gentle,” she smiled, innocently. “I guess to some, it is probably a nuisance.

  “Stops work sometimes,” he said, “but, I have to admit I like it, too.”

  Then, he added, “You from around here?”

  “Guess it shows,” Kathy Mae said smiling shyly. “I can guess you're not.”

  “Me, I was born and bred in the Ozark’s south of here a little ways,” he answered.

  “I have never been to the Ozark area,” she continued, glad to involve him in any kind of conversation. “I had a school trip that was going there once, but I was sick that day, and couldn’t make it.”

  “Well, that is something,” he said flirting unabashedly, “If you had made that trip, I might've met you sooner. So far, I like everything I've seen in this neck of the woods,” Mason said, laying his hand on the counter next to hers, almost touching her as he leaned on his forearm relaxing casually.

  “So, what brings you to these parts?” she inquired, “Do you work in construction or something?”

  “Nope, I train camels,” he answered, smiling, expecting the usual look of surprise. He couldn't wait to see her astonished expression and what it would do to her soft doe eyes.

  “Really, camels?” she laughed, “Camels in the Ozarks? Are you teasing me?”

  Kathy had never heard such a crazy idea in her whole life. She had heard of training horses, but camels in Missouri?

  “No really,” he insisted convincingly, “I train them and just moved them here to Nevada where I'm starting my own exotic animal farm. I used to work for a bigger company, traveling across the country, using the animals for rides, petting zoo’s and once I even raced them in California. They are really wonderful animals to work with, as long as you don't get stepped on or spit upon. Now, I've decided to branch out on my own.”

  “Well, that is pretty amazing,” she commented sincerely, “I sure would love to see them some time.”

  As Kathy smiled, and seeing Mrs. Wade through the front window, she realized her break time was over. She wondered if she would be in trouble for fraternizing with a client, or if she might become an object of jesting if Mrs. Wade comprehended what had been happening beneath the surface. No doubt she was the type to notice such things.

  “I have to go back to work,” she said bruskly, hoping he would understand her fears. “Everyone is coming back from lunch. It was nice meeting you. Hope you like your new house, Mr. Wheelwright.”

  “Call me Mason,” he insisted, “And, actually, I don’t think I will be hanging around the new house that much. That is my dad and stepmother’s place. I sleep out with my animals in the trailer. I enjoyed talking with you Kathy Mae,” he said, winking with his back to the door so that Mrs. Wade, entering, would not see it.

  “Oh, Mr. Wheelwright,” Lois Wade said to his back, “I was going to mail those papers to you. Did you get everything you needed?”

  He tipped his hand and nodded affirmatively without breaking his stride. Obviously he did not care to enter into any kind of conversation with her.

  “Girl, you okay?” she said, looking at Kathy Mae. “You look little flushed. Did you screw up something? I told Phillip that it was too soon to tell if you would work out. You never even had your drug test yet. You aren’t on some hopped-up drugs are you?”

  “No ma’am, I think I'm a little hungry,” she said, remembering the promised Subway sandwich.

  Mrs. Wade scrunched her piercing blue eyes at Kathy Mae to give her a proper examination, then tossed the food package on the desk. It was supposed to be turkey with Swiss but looked like the lunch meat combo. She didn't care. Food didn't matter to her, not today anyway.

  “You can take it in the back room and eat it,” she said, rather sharply for someone gifting food. “You deserve a lunch break, by law.”

  “When you have finished lunch,” she continued, “I'll explain the filing system. We're really backed up in that department.”

  It became apparent that the back up to which she referred was the stacks of papers on the folding table in the back room. From the look of things, Mrs. Wade never filed anything at all—except, perhaps for her nails.

  At the end of the day, Kathy Mae found she still had Mason on her mind. He had touched her with his eyes, and it was as if he had run his fingers over her face with just a look. He saw her, really saw her. She felt that he’d seen through her simple, perhaps even drab, appearance and saw the real Kathy Mae Graves—someone she hardly knew herself. She grabbed her purse and walked cheerfully to the door. What an amazing day it had been! She woke up jobless, landed a great job, and met a fascinating man that made her feel like a woman. The future looked good to her for the very first time.

  Passing the hallway and to the front desk, Mrs. Wade stopped her to give her a computer print off with her schedule. Reading it over before leaving for the day, Kathy Mae saw that she worked a few late afternoons.

  “Is there a problem?” asked Mrs. Wade.

  “I'm scheduled to close on several nights,” Kathy Mae answered, “and I don't know the procedures.”

  “The procedures are simple,” Mrs. Wade answered snidely, as if Kathy Mae had to have been incredibly stupid to not inherently know what to do. “We shut down the computer, turn off the lights, and lock the door. That’s it. In the real estate business we have to accommodate people’s work schedules. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Not at all. Thanks, see you tomorrow,” said Kathy Mae, going outside. She then realized that she dreaded going home. If she had had any friends, she would have called them.

  Once, she had a best friend, Carrie Stapleton, several years ago. In the early years of high school that friendship had been a comfort. By the time they were both seventeen, Carrie had decided that Kathy Mae was too nice, and perhaps too dull for her taste. A little drinking, dancing, and driving around town without a license was one thing. But, Carrie was quickly becoming the local tramp, despite being under age. She was out having sex with every guy that called her number which they found scribbled in all the men's toilet stalls for miles around. This was not something Kathy Mae liked, and the guys Carrie tried to fix her up with seemed to expect it. Carrie ended up pregnant by some plumber named Tom who took little interest in her welfare. He was already married to someone else and had several kids.

  Several years after high school, Carrie renewed their friendship once life's lessons had slowed down her spirit of adventure somewhat. By then she lived with her alcoholic cross-dressing father and druggie mother. Kathy Mae discovered this secret the first night she went to Carrie's to see her little boy and hang out. She remembered knocking on the door, and looking through the glass pane to see a green skirt and white high-heel shoes flutter past. Finding that Carrie came to the door in sweat pants and that her mother was out, it
didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out the rest of the story. She asked about what she had seen, and Carrie confirmed her assumption.

  Not long after they had just started getting reacquainted, Carrie started going out with another man, and got pregnant again. Kathy Mae had never even met him, and only knew that his name was Adam. Then one morning she was watching the news about a local child who had been beaten and was in critical condition. It was Carrie Stapleton's child, Matthew, and he died the next day. Kathy Mae cried for two days, remembering the boy's adorable face—his dark complexion and bright green eyes. Her friend’s sanity was gone from that time forward; she began smoking marijuana even though she was pregnant with another child—the one fathered by the man who had beaten Matthew to death.