Chapter 5 – Call for Obstruction

So far, Barry collided with a courier van, and the accident turned into a job opportunity to drive for their service. After signing an employment contract he has second thoughts about working for his new boss, Margery. Only he finds that she now has a bizarre influence over his body and he will have to show up for work or suffer the consequences.

By the time I jerk open the OTG office door, just like Margery promised, my gut is back to normal. I walk inside carrying Margery’s coffee.

“I said no announcements!” Margery’s voice rumbles like thunder over a throng of chattering men and women. “Get the fuck on the road!” There’s a momentary hush before everyone scurries off like Margery pressed the fast forward button on a remote control.

I pivot on one heel, watching all the unfamiliar robot-like faces around me pass from sight out the door until the room is empty except for me, Margery, and a fifty-something-year-old guy with a bad comb-over. The stranger rests one hand in the pocket of his kaki-outrigger jacket, the other hand holds a fat cigar stub, which emits an almost pleasant aroma of cedar.

“Well. What are you waiting for?” Margery says from where she stands, arms crossed, beside her table.

I point at my chest with eyebrows raised, wanting to know if she’s talking to me.

“This the new kid?” The old guy sizes me up while he combs greasy strips of black and gray hair over his clammy scalp with the hand holding the stogie. “How’s the diarrhea?”

I feel my face turn red, but I figure it’s better to keep my mouth shut, at least with Margery in the room.

“Lighten up, honey. You’re not the first driver to fake an illness to get out of working for old Margery,” she says. “Some of you idiots even try it a few times before you wise up.” Margery tilts her head back and barks out a cough while she laughs. Her mood then shifts in an instant and a wave of heat spreads across the room. “Why are you still here, Vern? Get the hell on the road.”

I back away, not wanting find out if she’s part dragon and thinking the woman gives new meaning to hot head.

“You,” Margery wiggles her long wrinkled fingers at me. “Bring me my coffee.”

I hold the cup out as far as I can, hoping to not only avoid third-degree burns but another nasty shock from her touch. She takes the cup and I snap my hand back.

“You learn quick.” She winks and gives me one of her now familiar crooked grins.

Waiting for her to make the next move, I’m all at once distracted by the picture of Trisha’s bouncing boobs in my head. It reminds me to tell Margery, “Some girl named Trisha says, ‘Hi.’”

Margery spits out her coffee with the force of a fire hose and the splatter lands on my face and shirt.

Vern freezes just short of the exit, his hand resting on the door handle.

“Damn,” I say and wipe my face on the shoulder of my t-shirt. My eyes are still on Margery while I wonder what I said wrong and worry that her angry stare might burn a hole through me, literally.

“What did you just say?” she demands.

“I met her in the coffee shop.” My voice rises in pitch like I’m fourteen again. “She said to tell you—”

“I heard you the first time.”

“Then why’d you ask?” I remind myself to think before I speak.

Margery rushes at me as if she’s floating on air. “You stay away from her. You hear me.” With each word, she pokes at my chest with unbelievable strength and speed, and her finger scorches holes in my t-shirt like she’s burning me with a cigarette. She doesn’t stop until I’ve lost my footing and crack my tail bone on the floor.

“I hear you. I hear your.” I lift my arm up to protect myself from any further abuse. My heart is racing and I’m a little surprised I didn’t piss my pants.

Margery shakes her head, kicks me hard in the leg, and sighs. “You’re pathetic. Get up.”

I turn to my side and struggle back up to my feet as fast as I can, the whole time bracing myself for the next beating. Only her mood swings to Glenda the Good Witch as she reaches up and wipes ashes off my chest.

Dang, the woman could use a little Prozac.

“Let’s get you on the road, honey.” She smiles like she’s happy. Margery leaves me standing in the middle of the room and steps toward a giant bulletin board that covers the entire wall to the left of the entryway. She unhooks one of the last three sets of keys and a clipboard and throws them at me.

I manage to catch the clip board, but have to lean over to pick up the keys. I grunt from the bruise she put on my leg, but bite my tongue, not wanting to show any sign of weakness.

“You’re only driving to Trinidad and back,” she says while handing me a pen. “And of course you’ll stop at the warehouse down there to drop off the cargo.” She taps her finger on the clipboard at the bottom of a column for signatures.

I sign my name so fast it’s nothing but scribble. When I try to give everything back to her, she walks away. I put the clipboard back on the wall myself and limp after her, only my leg doesn’t hurt anymore. Neither does my chest. I look through my t-shirt and see that my skin isn’t even red. Is anything real around here? Or is this the longest dream of my life.

We go outside and race through a cloud of Vern’s cigar smoke he obviously timed to exhale during our exit. I cough as I chase after Margery.

Margery growls and turns her head back to Vern “I’m not paying you overtime.”

When we reach one of the van, Margery opens the driver’s side door and waves for me to get in. “Go ahead and start it up,” she tells me.

I hop up behind the wheel. Hell yeah, I think as I breath in the aroma of new car smell. I turn the key and the motor purrs.

“Driver training’s on the CD in the player, honey, and the GPS will get you to the warehouse down in Trinidad. You’re a geekie guy. Figure it out.” Margery turns to leave but stops and holds up two fingers in a peace sign. “Sorry, honey. Almost forgot to mention the two rules. One, never go in the back of the van. Two, never hesitate to press the emergency button above the GPS if something goes wrong.”

“Like what?” I ask.

Margery takes off at a jog and hollers out, “You’ll know.”

Is she kidding? That’s my training?

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