Where did everyone go? Charlie knew.
Where is Everyone?
©2005 by Mae Ondracek
Charlie wondered
where everyone had gone. He thought
about it all day and finally couldn’t even think anymore. He lay down to sleep and it didn’t come any easier. He tossed and turned for almost an hour until
sleep over took him.
It was
After rinsing out
his dish, he headed outside and pulled his jacket up over his shoulders. There were usually a lot of people on the
street, but today there was no one. Not
one single person.
It was strange not
to see even one person, and he really couldn’t imagine why. He hurried to work and no one was there. Where had they all gone, he wondered? He ran from one floor to the next, but no one
was around; not one person.
He was so surprised;
he went home to think about this. Why
was he the only one left, he wondered?
He thought back over the last few days and couldn’t make any sense out
of it. Where did everyone go? He made some coffee and while sitting at the
table, he kept thinking, where was everyone?
Wondering what had happened. He
tried thinking of everything that had been said, but he thought he must have
missed something, nothing made much sense.
He picked up the paper, but he couldn’t
understand what he was reading. He
looked at a magazine, but nothing it said made sense. He threw it across the room and yelled,
“Where did everyone go?”
He lay back on the
couch, wondering what could have happened to everyone, suddenly he was
asleep. He had been called into the
office and Mr. Jameson was yelling at him for something that wasn’t his
fault. He had yelled back, “Well, Mr.
Jameson, you won’t listen to reason, so I wish all of you would go to ----,”
and he left, so mad that it just didn’t seem right. Why should he have to go through this, when
it wasn’t his fault? Then he woke up, wondering
why he had dreamt that. He thought about
it for quite awhile and then slapped his knee.
That just had to be it.
Why not just Mr.
Jameson and maybe a few other people, but not everyone in his whole town. This was just too much to believe, so he went
back to his office and looked around.
What was he looking for, he wondered?
Something to do with the way Mr. Jameson had yelled at him. He was looking in Mr. Slim’s desk and in the
bottom drawer; he pulled out a folder that had his name on it. Mr. Slim hadn’t liked him from the very first
time they met, so he looked in the folder and out tumbled photos and other
papers. He looked at the photos and they
couldn’t be recognized, not even by him.
Then he read the papers and he couldn’t believe the smut Mr. Slim was blaming
on him, and Mr. Jameson believed him.
Why didn’t Mr.
Jameson just ask him if it was true? He
could have made Mr. Jameson believe him.
“Oh, Mr. Jameson, if I could only talk with you alone,” he said and
there was Jameson standing before him.
He jumped up out of Mr. Slim’s chair and grabbed Mr. Jameson’s
hand. “Boy, am I ever glad to see you,
Mr. Jameson. Look at all the evidence I
found in Slim’s desk. You said it was
all my fault for acting so dirty, that you had to let me go. Well, Slim did this all by himself with
actors and actresses. He hasn’t been going
along with the rest of us, sir,” I said.
“Can I see those?”
Mr. Jameson asked.
I handed them to
him and he looked at them, then he looked at me and said, “I’m sorry for
doubting you, Charlie. Let’s go to my
office before he comes in,” and we left Mr. Slim’s office. “I always wondered why he was so careful
about these papers. Look, he had given
me a set, too.”
They proceeded to
look over the two sets of files when Mr. Jameson exploded, “Boy, you just wait
until he gets here. I’ll murder that
bum.”
“No, Mr. Jameson,”
I cautioned, “Don’t you think it would be a good idea to let him wonder why I’m
still working?”
“Hey, that’s a good idea. You come back to work,” Mr. Jameson said,
“and then we’ll pounce on him. He can’t
get away with this.”
“Mr. Jameson, I’m
sorry you ever saw these,” Charlie said.
“You see, I’m not a healthy guy and don’t think any woman would like me,
so I go home and stay there, alone.”
Mr. Jameson looked
at Charlie carefully, then asked, “What is wrong, Charlie? You look real good to me.”
“Thank you, Mr.
Jameson, but I have Multi-Phase something or other. Something the doctor says I’ll never be rid
of it, if anything, it will only get worse,” Charlie said. “Golly, Mr. Jameson, I sure wish I could wish
for everyone to come back to work,” and suddenly everyone was working, working
like crazy.
Charlie looked out
the door of Mr. Jameson’s office and couldn’t believe his eyes. Everyone was working faster than ever and
Charlie asked the boss, “Mr. Jameson, do you really want me to quit now or will
you get rid of Mr. Slim?”
“You just go about
your business, as if nothing ever happened, Charlie. I’ll take care of Mr. Slim, once and for
all,” Mr. Jameson said.
Charlie went to
his desk and sat down. He wondered how
long it would take Me. Jameson to get after Mr. Slim. He no longer wondered when Mr. Jameson called
Silm to his office and began asking him questions about Charlie. Mr. Slim said, “It is a shame, Mr. Jameson,
if you ask me, but Charlie shouldn’t be working for our company any longer. I see he is back at his desk this morning.”
“Why yes, he is,
Mr. Slim. I told him to go out there and
get busy,” said Mr. Jameson. “You’re the
one who is fired, and I want you out of here as fast as you can make it.” Now get.”
“But, Mr.
Jameson. You have proof that Charlie
hasn’t been working on his days off. He’s
been fooling around,” Mr. Slim said.
“That is why I followed him to get all those pictures.”
Mr. Jameson got up
from his desk and opened the file and took out the other set of pictures and
the note he had. He dumped them on his
desk and said, “I suppose you still want to say these are photos of
Charlie? Well, I don’t think Charlie
would even have a woman, the way he feels.
Now get your stuff out of the desk and leave.”
Mr. Slim got up
and hurried out of the office. He
cleaned out his desk in nothing flat and hurried out of the building. Mr. Jameson stuck his head out the door and
called Charlie to come in. “Yes sir,
what do you want, Mr. Jameson?”
“Charlie, these
are supposed to be pictures of you and some girl. How would you like to burn them?” Mr. Jameson
asked.
“Well that is a
rather good idea, Mr. Jameson,” Charlie said.
“Where shall we build a bon-fire?”
“Right here in the
waste basket,” Mr. Jameson said as he handed Charlie the matches.
“Right in the
waste basket, Mr. Jameson?” Charlie asked.
“Yes, that is what
I said,” Mr. Jameson said. “We don’t
want anyone else to see them. You are a
trusted employee, Charlie, and let’s keep it that way.”
All Charlie could
think to say was, “All right, Mr. Jameson.”