I moved some things around on my calendar. 4:00 PM today is open. Please come to the executive floor.
-Leila
For a while I was stunned, staring at the email in front of me. I’d just told my boss I was quitting, refusing a promotion into my recently-deceased mentor Aggie’s shoes. Now, the new head of Human Resources wanted to see me.
Me? A Tech Support drone with one foot out the door? Well, she didn’t know that yet, did she?
Something in me feared where this might lead. But, Leila had stuck her neck out to rescue me from CEO Gibbs. She seemed like she cared about making things better. I decided to hear her out. Figured I owed her that much before I blew outta there for good in two weeks.
I had way too many hours to kill. Between whittling down my overstuffed inbox and resuming casework, it should’ve been easy to distract myself, but I couldn't focus on a single thing. I’d just done what had once seemed impossible. My brain wasn’t letting go of that any time soon.
Megan and Reynaldo also handed in their resignations. I got their messages confirming as much. We met up for lunch at a nearby restaurant and celebrated, but I was distracted. Amid the smiles and positive energy, the meeting with Leila was all I could think about. Should I mention it? I decided not to, not until I knew more.
I dreaded the afternoon slog now more than ever, but somehow, it slogged. When the clock’s hands finally crawled to 3:30, I threw on my coat and hat and darted out for one last smoke break. Then, it was time for C-Town.
Consumed with nervous energy, I shunned the elevator to race up the stairs floor by floor. Figured I’d burn off some stress, which could only help with whatever came next. Also figured I’d have a minute to recover in the vast executive lobby before finding my way to her office. Instead, I found Leila standing right there, every bit as polished as our surroundings. She faced me with surprise. “Hello.”
I tried to speak, laugh, something. Instead, I doubled over, coughing and gasping for air that felt all too thin up in nosebleed territory. While recovering, I couldn’t help but notice the gleaming tile beneath my feet, contrasting against my work shoes encrusted with sidewalk salt. Such details seldom crossed my mind, but the sort of people who worked up there lived and died for such details. Face flush, I cleared my throat one more time and righted myself, looking her way. “’Scuse me.”
“That was a long way up,” Leila remarked, gesturing behind herself. “I thought we could visit the observation deck. Would you like something to eat or drink first?”
Truth be told, I was already dying for another smoke. “No, that’s all right.”
“Follow me.”
She led the way through massive, quiet corridors to a small room with glass walls and ceiling. At this height, all one could see outside was a thick lead wall of fog. Leila strayed up to the far wall, a jewel against the void, and glanced back over her shoulder with chagrin. “I’m sorry, the view’s not very good today.”
“I dunno, I kinda like it.” Something about foggy weather had always intrigued me. With the normal world gone, it seemed like anything could happen.
She beckoned me closer with one hand. I strayed up next to her right side, staring out at the shrouded view.
“I understand you and Agatha Shaw were close,” Leila began quietly. “You have my deepest condolences.”
A two-ton anvil crashed onto my nerves. My fists clenched up at my sides. I worked so hard to hold back the flash-flood of grief that I couldn’t string words together. I only trusted myself to nod.
She glanced my way, hesitating. “Would it be better if we rescheduled?”
“I’m here,” I forced out. “Whatever you have to say, say it.”
She nodded. “First: while you were out of the office, I asked Francis Bronson to hand in his resignation.”
I drew a blank on the name, and blinked her way in confusion.
“The manager who nearly destroyed a printer with his hair dryer,” Leila explained, “after I’d just made a company-wide push for everyone to respect our office equipment.”
“Oh. Hothead!” My nickname for the guy. I’d worked that case a few weeks ago, but it felt more like years. Hothead worked in HR—at least, he had. After disarming him, I’d sent Leila an email, appealing for help against someone who clearly shouldn’t have been managing a supply cabinet, much less human beings. Well, she’d delivered. A warm note of satisfaction offered me a welcome lift out of grief. “Thanks. Really.”
Leila smiled. “We make a good team, I think. Which brings me to the other thing I wanted to discuss. Something new.”
My gaze fastened onto hers with a mix of intrigue and dread.
“You and I both know how badly this place needs to change. Let’s work together and actually fix things. I want to create a Change Management team and make you Team Lead.”
I was speechless, caught completely off-guard.
“The first thing we’d do is attack our company-wide leadership problem. Audits, surveys, hearings … eventually, a reorg. Along with simplifying the corporate structure, we’ll get rid of all the—Hothead, you called him? All the other Hotheads.”
“The biggest hothead is sitting at the top of the whole rotten pyramid,” I blurted. “He ain’t budging. He ain’t signing off on this, either!”
Leila was unfazed. “I think we could frame everything in a way that makes Mr. Gibbs like it. After all, we’re reducing payroll. We’re better positioning ourselves in a tough economic time. Worst-case, we could always use the three magic words: Google Did It.” She smirked.
I couldn’t help smirking back. Then I remembered what I’d done just a few hours earlier. “But I’m outta here. I quit! Put in my notice this morning!”
Leila nodded calmly. “Do you have a new position lined up somewhere else?”
“No. I'm going freelance with friends.”
“Friends who are leaving the company along with you?”
I nodded.
She paused for thought. “If you were to lead my Change Management team instead, you’d be able to recruit internally for your team. Whoever you think would be the most helpful. You’d set the agenda for whatever’s most important to address so that other good people don’t feel like they have to get away from here. All of this would mean a promotion to Director, with a salary and benefits to go with. And if you need more bereavement time, I could arrange an indefinite leave of absence until you feel ready to come back.”
The breath died in my throat. Had I suffered a stroke? I must’ve had a stroke. No, she really said it. She was on the level. I could change things. I could hire my friends to help me do it. A raise, full bennies, working with her every day?
Only a fool would refuse. And yet, my gut ached at the idea.
I stood there, frozen and mute, until I remembered something in my trench coat pocket: RD, the rubber duck I’d miraculously rescued from Aggie’s former office. I reached into my pocket and seized him in my fist.
RD? Aggie? I thought. Whoever’s listening. It all sounds amazing. I know she means it. But … it’s another trap, isn’t it? Staying in this joint for any reason means betraying myself. Betraying everything.
“Listen,” I finally said, “I’m flattered you even offered, but it ain’t right for me. Don’t give up on your idea! I’ve got friends here with ideas of their own for changing things. 32-hour work weeks. The end of free overtime. A union. I’ll send ’em your way. Offer them a spot on your team.”
Leila sighed. “A union would be an especially tough sell to Mr. Gibbs, but that really is a case where Google Did It. We might scare him so much with that idea that everything else would seem harmless in comparison.” She faced me with a sad smile. “A shame that we’re losing you. I was starting to learn some interesting things about printers.”
I’d miss her, too. And yet, I was feeling surprisingly great about my refusal.
“Make sure you file for unemployment,” she said. “We won’t stand in your way.”
I offered my hand. “Thanks for everything, Leila. Whenever it is they kick you outta here for good, come find me.”
She shook, sad smile persisting. “Maybe I will.”
I told Megan and Reynaldo about the new Change Management team. Made sure they knew the offer was on the table in case they preferred that over jumping ship. Both were quick to say no. Like me, they were too excited about our plans to stop now.
For the next couple of weeks, there was still plenty of work to be done: transferring my open tickets to other support reps and all that. But there was barely any time for it. Coworker after coworker stopped by my cube to express their surprise and wish me well in whatever came next.
“You’ll never be problem-free,” one of them advised me. “Go looking for the problems you want to have.”
I felt happier, freer, more determined than I had in ages. It was the conviction of knowing I’d stuck to my guns to do the right thing for myself.
Sanjay also jumped ship to join us. And there was one last surprise that came in the form of a phone call. The name on my work phone’s caller ID was DRACORA, P. So-called “Dracula!” Having a fairer opinion of her than most, I picked up without any sense of dread.
So-called “Dracula!” She hadn’t been so bad at all. Surprised, I picked up in a hurry.
“I’m so sad to hear you’re leaving!” she said. “What kind of freelance work are you doing?”
“All sorts of IT projects,” I replied. “Maybe some consulting on the side.”
“I have a friend who needs help setting up a website for her business. Is that something you could help her with?”
My eyes flew wide open in shock. “Sure!”
“I’ll put you in touch with one another.”
“That’d be swell. Thanks!”
We exchanged contact info. She promised to keep pointing friends our way whenever she could.
On my last day, I sent my personal contact information to my coworkers. I reminded them of Leila’s offer and urged them to keep me posted on their different causes. Then my friends and I walked out of a building that no longer had a hold over any of us.
It felt pretty damn swell.
Our accountant helped us incorporate RD IT Solutions. Only close friends knew it stood for “rubber duck.” The company covered medical and other relevant expenses for everyone. There was no hierarchy. Everyone had equal financial stakes and an equal say in company decisions.
After decades of being an expert at what I did, I was back at square one, learning the ropes. So much of what we had to learn for our business could only be learned through failure. Still, it felt rewarding to challenge my brain in new ways. The new gig let me wear lots of hats, from tech support to coding to business admin.
With no more regular paychecks, we had to tighten down our finances to what was critically important. We worked remotely at whatever times worked best for us, with the occasional meet-up at a public place or someone’s home. We all knew that any one of us having some kind of trouble could count on the rest of the group to help out as best as they could.
Megan quit smoking again. I cut way back myself. Wasn’t trying to, I just haven’t felt the need as much. Also stopped having those nightmares. It no longer feels like I’m living just for time off and weekends. I don’t spend my Sunday nights dreading Monday.
Dracula really did introduce us to our first client. It’s crazy what the universe puts out there when you go looking for it.
We met up remotely for our first client meeting to discuss requirements and expectations. When the topic of deliverables came up, our client scrunched her nose and interrupted Megan mid-sentence. “I don’t trust email! I’d rather you fax me the files.”
We were building a website for her.
“You mean, the source files?” Megan soldiered on bravely.
“Just fax me the codes,” the client said. “My nephew can re-type them into the Internet.”
She provided a fax number, fully expecting us to print out several hundred lines of code to send over. After deploying our first stab at a website that met her requirements, we did just that, mostly out of curiosity.
A few days later, she called us in a huff, saying her website looked like random letters. Her nephew had typed the code into Facebook.
FIN
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