Genteel Obsession

Chapter Five
Mina

Mina slapped weakly at the alarm clock. At the last second, she remembered to grab it before it crashed to the floor. That would have jarred the button back out, and she would have had to deal with several more seconds of teeth jarring buzzing.

Something was wrong. It took her a moment to figure out what it was. The sunbeam that slanted through the broken slat of her bedroom window blinds was not far enough across the ceiling. She brought the clock close to her face and examined it blearily. Six o\'clock. What the hell? She didn\'t have to be up for another hour. Why had she...?

Then she remembered, and groaned. She had to wash her hair this morning. She\'d been too tired last night, and had set the alarm early so she could do it before she left for work.

Mina was tempted to say screw it, reset the alarm, and doze off again. She dragged one dark brown curl of hair close to her nose and sniffed experimentally. Bleh! Stale smelling. She almost wished they\'d ban smoking in the employees\' lounge. Almost. Without a nicotine fix, some of her coworkers were bound to go from difficult to impossible.

After a satisfying, sinew creaking stretch, she got out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. God, it was tiny. If she bent all the way over while using the sink, her butt bumped the opposite wall. That meant there was only room for a shower stall, no bathtub. She really missed baths.

She stripped out of her panties and T-shirt, and stepped into the shower. She managed to get the water temperature up to lukewarm, and prayed that she\'d be able to finish before it reverted to freezing.

Mina wet her hair, then unscrewed the top of the almost empty shampoo bottle and ran water in it. After shaking it to work up a foam, she poured it over her head and managed to work up a decent lather. That was it for the shampoo, then. Something else to buy. Let\'s see...she had a cents off coupon for Suave. She\'d have to check and see if that made it a better bargain than the store brand. She hated the store brand. It was kind of harsh. She only conditioned every other wash, so the conditioner would last a little longer.

She scrubbed quickly, and managed to rinse off just as the last drops of tepid water gave way to chilled. She noticed that the towel, one of two that she owned, had most of the pile worn off it, and wasn\'t absorbing all that well anymore. Damn, something else to buy.

Mina ran a comb through her short, dark hair, then put her hands in it and tousled it. That was one good thing about having hair as curly as hers. It was pretty much wash and go. In a few minutes, it would dry and spring back into a mass of natural curls. She didn\'t care much for her own appearance, but she got some satisfaction from her hair. Once one of her co-workers had asked who had curled her hair for her, and she\'d replied, straight faced, \"God.\"

Back in her bedroom, she opened her closet and examined the garments hanging there. The contents of the closet held no more color than a sepia photograph. There were nothing but neutral shades. At last she settled on dark brown pants and a beige shirt. It wasn\'t quite cold enough for navy or black, but too cool for gray, tan, and oatmeal.

It only took a few moments to dress. Not bothering with hose helped a lot. Socks were much more comfortable and practical, and looked proper with the plain loafers she favored. When she was done, she put on her glasses. The perscription was so weak that it was really only a token correction, but she liked them. She always felt just a little more sheltered, peering at the world through the lenses.

Finally she stood in front of the cloudy, wavering mirror that hung on her closet door and examined herself closely. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing to draw notice. Good. People who got noticed attracted trouble. She\'d come to the conclusion a long time ago that it was safest to ease your way through the world unremarked.

The toaster had long before ceased to toast on both sides, so she had to pop the bread up halfway through and turn it. That was better than the last one, which wouldn\'t cut off. God, what a mess that had been. Luckily no one had called the fire department about the smoke. Or, she thought frowning, was it really that lucky? Sort of let her know where she stood with her neighbors.

Mina checked her purse, frowning at the small amount of cash left in her pocketbook. She\'d have to eat in the company cafeteria today, she didn\'t have enough to splurge on fast food, let alone a decent restaurant. The company offered a free plate lunch each day, one of the perks, and the food was usually pretty decent. It was just that she didn\'t particularly like having to eat in the cafeteria with her fellow employees.

She sighed as she clicked the purse shut and stepped out into the hall. They probably thought she was standoffish, if they thought of her at all. It had been the same everywhere she\'d worked. Hell, it had been the same in school. She just didn\'t make friends easily. She was too shy to approach anyone, and...Well, she just seemed to sort of pass under everyone else\'s radar.

It was frustrating. She wanted companionship, yet it went against her deepest nature to seek out the awareness of others. \"Maybe a year or two nattering to a therapist would help,\" she thought. \"Of course, they\'d probably just tell me to force myself to be more open. I bet they wouldn\'t be too good on telling me how to do it.\"

One advantage of being up early; extra time in case her junker decided to screw with her. It was on its last legs, no surprise there. The beast had been manufactured only a couple of years after she had graduated from highschool. She supposed that, technically, it qualified as a ‘classic\' by sheer age. It was more accurately described in street slang as a ‘hoopty mobile\'.

Lately the battery had been being very temperamental. Today she must have been in a state of grace, though, because it actually started on the first try. She tapped the frozen gas gauge without any real hope. The damn thing had been broken when she bought the car. Still, by her estimation, she had a quarter of a tank left. It should be enough to get her to work and back, then she could get a few dollars gas tomorrow morning.

The car had developed another noise sometime during the night. This one was a sort of rubbing-creaking sound. She wondered how much THIS was going to end up costing her. Her mother had always said, Don\'t drive it if it\'s making a funny noise, Min. Take it to a garage at once. Take care of it before it can turn into a big, expensive problem. Fine advice, Mom. If you have the cash for the inexpensiverepairs. Even preventative work cost.

Once again she thanked God when she finally shut her engine off, parked in the employee\'s lot at work. Parked way the hell out in the middle of the lot, of course. It didn\'t matter what time she arrived at work, the half of the lot nearest the building was always full. She had to park, as her Dad would have so colorfully put it, out in Bumfuck, Egypt.

Mina trudged to the building. She took one of the elevators to the fifth floor and made her way down to Records. Mrs. Hollachuck was already there. But then, Mrs. Hollachuck was always already there. Min suspected that Mrs. H would put up a cot in the file room and sleep there if she was allowed to.

Mrs. H was a stout woman with improbably red hair who had been with the company since...Well, no one was quite sure. Somewhere more than thirty years, at least. She was in her late fifties, and had come to work for the Baxter Corporation right after she had graduated from college.

She wasn\'t a bad sort, really. But she wanted a smooth running office. She had little time for malcontents and troublemakers who don\'t know how to pull with the team. In other words, if you had a problem with anything other than the nuts and bolts of your job, don\'t come crying to her.

Hollachuck nodded to her briskly as Mina hung up her coat and made her way past her desk. \"I see that you finished that last batch of information yesterday, O\'Connell. Very good. You\'re progressing much more quickly that we estimated.\"

\"It\'s not difficult, now that I\'ve learned the software.\" Tedious, but not difficult. But I won\'t be telling that to you. You believe that working for the Baxter Corporation in any capacity is pee-your-pants exciting.

Mina was in the process of transferring old records and reports from paper to computer disk. And, considering the fact that the records went back to the 1920\'s, and they hadn\'t started to archive them till the early eighties, she had a job for a long, long time, if she didn\'t screw up.

That was perfectly fine with Mina. Change was risky. Security was good. Her father\'s flightiness had made her childhood pretty much a living hell. The feckless, gentle man, one generation removed from Ireland, had never held a job more than eleven months at a time. Mina had lost count of the number of time\'s they\'d moved, usually into a progressively seedier area.

She\'d learned the value of blending in early on. The new kid was always a target, so she would study her peers in whatever neighborhood she found herself in. In no time, she would be blending in as if she were raised there. Clothing, speech patterns... everything. Always exactly what would gain marginal acceptance, because enthusiasm was as suspect as hostility.

Her father was long dead, her mother had left years before he passed on, and Mina had done what she had always longed to do: found a niche, and sunk in. Her life might not be exciting, but it was safe. She intended to keep it that way.

She worked steadily for a couple of hours, then took her company guaranteed break. When she came back from the vending machines with her soda, and the rare treat of a candy bar, the office was... Well, ‘in an uproar\' wasn\'t exactly the right term. It would have taken a terrorist raid to achieve that. Mina felt that even a bomb threat would have rated nothing but a quick, efficient evacuation.

But there was a definite STIR in the office. It looked as if the cubicles and cubbie holes had been emptied, and everyone was in the main room, clustered around Hollachuck\'s desk. She approached cautiously. Her own little niche was on the other side of the group, and she\'d have to pass them.

As she approached the center of the tension became clear. It was a big, blonde man, somewhere around her own age. He was handsome in a bland, all-American way, and dressed in well cut, obviously expensive clothes. He looked familiar, but she couldn\'t quite place him. Some high muckity-muck in the company, most likely. What was he doing down here among the peon?

She almost made it through. Using her lifetime experience of fading into the background, she oozed around the perimeter of the crowd. She was just about to break out and slip to her sanctuary, when Hollachuck grabbed her arm.

Grabbed her arm? Hollachuck never touched anyone. She might if artificial respiration, or the Heimlich Maneuver were called for, but that was about it. Now she was positively bubbling. What had gotten into the woman? \"Mina! Come here. You haven\'t been introduced yet.\"

She found herself propelled up to the man, nudged toward him like a bashful three year old being forced to ‘make nice\' to company. He smiled at her, and offered his hand as Mrs. Hollachuck said, \"Mina, this is Stephen Honeywell Baxter; our CEO and owner.\"

\"Please.\" His voice was smooth, cultured. \"Not \'owner\'. You make me sound postitively feudal. I will settle for ‘boss\'.\"

Mina shifted her supplies awkwardly, so she could shake hands. \"Hello.\"

\"Mr. Baxter, this is Mina O\'Connell. I suppose she\'s your newest employee. Mina is working on record formatting.\"

\"Really?\" His grip was warm and smooth. He held on just a fraction longer than she was comfortable with. \"A rather tedious job, I\'m afraid.\"

She shrugged. \"If I had expected my work to be a thrilling adventure, I would have been sorely disappointed early in life.\"

\"Interesting philosophy.\"

She blinked. \"Does that count as a philosophy?\"

He smiled again. \"It does in my book. How long have you been with me, Miss O\'Connell?\"

\"Just about six months.\"

\"And how do you like it so far?\"

Stephen watched as the woman pursed her lips, and realized that she was unconscious of the expression. She was obviously thinking, \"It\'s a job, and you\'re the boss. I\'m going to say anything negative?\" But her response was bland. \"Just fine, sir. Mrs. Hollachuck has really made me feel at home.\"

*She has?* Stephen thought. *Well, you\'re good with a social lie. I\'ve known her my entire life, and Hollachuck is a cold natured bitch and a suck up.* Aloud he said, \"Good. That\'s what I want most for my employees.\"

\"If you\'ll excuse me, sir, I\'m on break, and there isn\'t much of it left...\"

\"Oh, I\'m sure Hollachuck will extend your break to cover the time you\'ve lost nattering to me. Won\'t you, Hollachuck?\"

Mrs. H gave him a bright, false smile. \"Of course, sir.\" The look she shot Mina warned her not to think this was going to become a habit.

Mina kept her smile in place as she sidled away. \"Really nice of you to take the time, but I can\'t stand around wasting your money.\"

And she knows all the proper \'placate the boss to get him off your back\' phrases. This one may be interesting. \"Oh, I scarcely think you\'re a waste, Miss O\'Connell.\" A pause. \"It is miss?\"

That stopped her, and she almost gave herself away. She almost let a genuine expression break through the carefully bland mask she presented to the world. No one else would have caught it, but Stephen had trained himself to look for the more subtle signs of nervousness and discomfort. It was in her eyes.

There was a flash of hurt, and anger. He could almost hear her say, Oh, it\'s that obvious, is it? No one would have me? Instead she gave him a smile almost as false as the one Hollachuck was wearing, and said, \"Last time I checked.\" Then she was gone into her cubicle.

Mina O\'Connell. Stephen added the name to the short mental list he\'d begun during his morning rounds, and went on to the next department.