Next Stop, (I'm still working on that.) Part 3 (tales of the resistance)

This is part three of a never ending series of posts. I have the beginning, the end and most of the middle figured out, But stringing them all together may take some time. So, read, enjoy, and click on the ads.

Part 1.
Part 2.

Billy and Kevin led us around an obtuse corner, and told us to stop. "Stand here, and don't look back around the corner, but don't get comfortable either. We are just going to be a second." Kevin said, looking us in the eye. The seriousness in his voice and the intensity of his stare made me uncomfortable, and I could tell from the way Joe fidgeted and moved he was a little intimidated as well.

From either end they grabbed a barrel, hoisting it quickly and easily up to their chest. Rushing back around the corner, we heard the barrel bouncing down the tunnel we had just run through.

"Aren't those guys from the custodial staff?" I whispered to Joe, afraid they would hear me. These were clearly men of action, men of action who had me stuck in a tunnel, and I was in no hurry to cross them.

Joe said "I knew I recognized those clothes! I couldn't place them, but..." A small pop and an unusually odd sort of whoosh sound was followed by a gust of wind that carried an odd, industrial smell. Followed quickly by our captors/saviors.

"What was that?" I asked.

"It was a barrel of spray foam insulation. The kind that expands so much. We sealed off the tunnel, temporarily. It won't take long for them to dig through so we have to hurry." Billy said, turning to run.

"You have a barrel of foam insulation? That stuff is ridiculously expensive. Who sells it by the barrel? How did you afford it?" I was shocked that the words were coming from my mouth. The only thing I wanted less than to run down this dark, musty tunnel with these guys is to have them lose their temper and leave me behind. For one thing, they had the lights, secondly, if Becky dug through that foam insulation with such an awful headache she was going to be furious, and third I would be alone, in a dark tunnel filled with God knows what. But, the absurdity of the situation was starting to press in on the sides of my head, and force the questions out.

"Look, we bought it off Amazon, they have everything. And we used the company account, because you're right, it cost a fortune." Kevin said, "now can we go?"

Joe must have felt emboldened by my ill timed questions. He blurted out, "aren't you guys custodians? Is your budget that big?"

Kevin and Billy looked at each other, then at Joe. Kevin said, "and maintenance personnel."

"Oh." Joe said. And we all started running.

A Trip to Human Resources, send food.

Yesterday Becky, from Human Resources, called us in to her office. A small, square, bland, cream colored box with a few posters on the wall, dealing with equal rights, equal pay, a few things about discrimination and one of a cat hanging on a tree with the saying "hang in there" across the top. Her desk was wood toned but did not really look anything like wood. Pictures of a life outside the building were scattered across her desk. Husband, children, pets, vacations, it was almost a biography of her last ten years, chronologically laid out across the sides of her work station. It was a perfect place for an ambush.

Becky looked pleasant. Bright, blond hair, a flowered, flowing knee length dress. She was tall, athletic looking and smiled politely as we sat down. Somehow the effect was awful, and hellish.

"We have had some complaints about your language in the cafeteria. Swearing, and loud threatening behavior. Many people find it intimidating, and offensive." She would look at a computer screen, glance at us, and then make a few small marks on a papers, in manila folders, and then starting the circuit over again. It was ritualistic, almost sinister. 

"Loud, abusive language is not tolerated. It is a violation of several policies. As department lead persons you should both know the rules." She said, her voice steady, monotone, and terrifying. She seemed to grow and a foul light swelled around her. 

The room grew colder and smoke curled around our feet, as she turned from the monitor and glared unblinking at us with an intensity, anger and animosity that was terrible, awesome and unbelievable. 

"It wasn't us." Joe said. "It was the girls from marketing. They curse, get loud, and laugh like hyenas."

"Oh," she said, typing furiously on her keyboard, as the lights and temperatures slowly climbed in the room. "It wasn't you two."

"No, we would never talk that way. We try blend in, not be noticed, being from the research department opens us up to all sorts of ridicule. We don't even want to draw attention, the less people see us, the better." I said, relieved, we were going to walk away without any problems. I was starting to breath again.

Becky smiled, kindly, generously, a Mother's smile. We were home free. "I'm sorry we troubled you with this, we will talk to these associates and get things straightened out."

"Yeah," Joe said, "we only sit by them because they are hot." 

Oh no.

A lock clicked behind us, and a small lightning bolt crackled to my right. It was going to be a long meeting.