10: The Magician: George in the World
716 Words
George graduated high school and landed a clerical job in the largest company in town. It was the perfect job. The company was so big and had so many subsidiaries, nobody knew exactly what he did. George was just another faceless employee filing unintelligible paperwork in the large back room.
After George found his perfect job, he found a tiny apartment a block from work. The walls were probably white once, but time and neglect turned them a dull gray. The kitchenette was just large enough for a two-burner stove and a microwave on top of a little two-shelf refrigerator, with a freezer not even large enough for a steak. George took only his clothes and left home without saying goodbye. His parents and siblings didn't realize he was gone.
Every morning before work, George dressed in light brown to match the office walls, then disappeared to the diner across the street from his apartment building for breakfast. He was so quiet, people sat beside George in the corner booth without realizing he was there, and the waitress often forgot to charge him for his cup of coffee and plain donut. George smiled as he looked at his reflection in the diner window. Instead of holding a coffee cup, he held secret documents pilfered from the enemy, or jewels from his latest heist.
Every morning at work, George grabbed a stack of paperwork and disappeared into the rows of file cabinets in the large back room. He was always careful to file not too quickly or too slowly. He was always careful to be neat. George didn't talk to any of his co-workers, and nobody talked to him. At lunchtime, while all the other employees sat elbow to elbow in the company cafeteria, George curled up in the bottom drawer of a large file cabinet for an hour and dreamed of driving a fancy sports car through winding mountain roads while being pursued by the police.
One day, his manager called George into her office. George held his breath and gingerly sat on the edge of the chair on the other side of her desk. His manager smiled at him and shook his clammy hand as she congratulated him. She told him that because he didn't bother anybody, she was giving him a raise and promoting him to supervisor.
George quickly found out that he could not disappear as a supervisor. He had to sit at a desk in front of his manager's office. Every morning, he had to prod his old-co-workers to work more efficiently. Every afternoon, he had to discuss productivity with his manager. He had to go to weekly meetings where everybody complained about the company and about each other. George developed bags under his eyes, and his hands shook from the coffee he drank all day.
One afternoon at lunchtime, a company vice president found George asleep in the bottom drawer of a large file cabinet, and immediately fired George. The company vice president smiled about flattening the organizational structure and proving that his division was operating under budget. George's manager smiled about keeping her job. George's old co-workers smiled about not having a supervisor. George smiled about not supervising as he carried his potted plant out of the office door and disappeared.
Without a job, George couldn't pay his rent and lost his apartment. At first, he didn't know what to do. But then George realized he could live under the bridge for free, and he could eat for free at the local food pantry. He didn't have to cook or wash his clothes or shower or shave his face. Nobody wanted to talk to him, and he didn't want to talk to anybody. He could curl up under the bridge and disappear into a dream about kissing a beautiful secret agent on an exotic island, or breaking into an uncrackable safe, and then disappearing before anybody knew what happened.
One morning, George walked down the street to the food pantry, engrossed in a fantasy about stealing the Queen's jewels and disappearing to a small Greek town. He disappeared so completely, the man in the truck didn't see George step off the curb until it was too late.
With the royal jewels in his bag, George disappeared for the last time.
- Writer
