In the street he felt the way things were always flowing, cars, people, his own thoughts too. Leaving the Library he ran and his mind flew. Those were the best times, when he was moving with the crowd, faster than the crowd, and his mind was racing and he felt self-contained, that is, contained within himself, though he was clearly in the world. The world was all around him and he was in himself like a ship at sea, buffeted, jolted, shaken but all the while conducting
the commerce of the inner life, orchestrating incoherent thoughts, rampant feelings, dark impulses, letting the whole thing race and pound like a tidal wave, so exhilarated that he no longer knew where he was. Night fell and the lights of the city shimmered in the air. It was getting cool. Women were hastening home. He watched the strong legs moving in their tight skirts. He heard the sound of horns in the street, the hum of traffic, the furious whine of a stalled engine somewhere up ahead. The street was like a canyon, stretching endlessly between the sheer walls of the towering buildings. Then everything fell away and he was alone in a narrow street steeped in shadow. But that was in another time.
Harriet wasn’t home. He phoned her author but no one answered. The phone kept ringing and he looked at the receiver quizzically, holding it away from his head, as though to communicate to whomever might be observing him that the absence of an answer was somewhat unexpected. Then he shrugged his shoulders carelessly to indicate that there was really no cause for alarm, nothing was amiss, it was all routine. Still feeling watched, he prepared his supper and ate it standing up. Then he looked out the window and watched the lights come on across the yard. Then he read a book.
Hirsch thought often about the women in the other room. One had bad skin and her speech was somewhat slurred. Opposite her there sat a foreign girl with bad teeth and a perfect figure who spoke without an accent and behind her, or to the left if you were facing the wall against which their desks were paired back to back at right angles, a slovenly woman called Marcia or Marilyn whom Hirsch found singularly unappealing, and opposite her a thin, quiet girl whom he also found unappealing and who seldom figured in his fantasies. Therefore, of all the women on that side of the room, he focused most often on the foreign girl, the one who was going out with someone in Maintenance, but often he found himself thinking about the one with the bad skin, who was called Dolores. That was Accounts Payable.
Towards the rear of the room two men operated the big computer and on the other side of the room there was
another row of desks with the women in Accounts Receivable,
under the constant scrutiny of Mr. Kroll in his little cage who had to be supplied with papers to stamp. These girls were neither more nor less attractive than the girls in Accounts Payable and the one married to the broker was perhaps the most striking of the lot. Payroll had its own room and there was someone who worked up quotes in still another room and he had an assistant who did his legwork, visiting various departments to extract estimates of material and labor costs. Miss Malone had an assistant too, a young, attractive woman in fact, and of course the treasurer’s secretary was the object of constant attentions but seemed to have been taken up by Solly. Sales and Purchasing were on the floor below. Hirsch had never been there and wondered about their personnel. It would be like visiting a foreign country. You couldn’t imagine what you’d find there though Hirsh knew enough about commerce and industry to understand that such departments were all pretty much the same, peopled or staffed by the common run of humanity. Still it was always an adventure to see new things and Hirsch made a mental note to find some pretext to visit for a while in both these departments. He had naturally passed the floor as he trotted down the stairs on his way to the treasurer’s office and had sometimes peeked inside, but as everyone sat in little cubicles laid out like a labyrinth he couldn’t see a thing. Walt and Charlie had of course made inquiries about their operations and Hirsch had had to hunt for documents, but everything of relevance was kept in Accounting so there had really been no need for him to go downstairs in the line of duty, so to speak, though it was clear to him that he might justifiably seize upon such inquiries as a pretext for making such a visit and seeing for himself what went on there. A Mr. Belcher, he believed, was the head of one of these departments and he might have seen him one day in the company cafeteria. All these dozens or even hundreds of workers were part of an organization that had a factory upstate and an office on the West Coast, and had, in a manner of speaking, linked their destinies to it, at least for a time, sometimes even marrying within its walls, and often advancing in the chain of command to positions of relative power and prestige so that there would be no real reason to seek employment elsewhere, unless tempted by new challenges or better pay, such being the restless nature of the race and the limitless ambition of its members. Mr. Belcher, he’d heard it said, had come to the Company from another organization. He may have been laid off. It was rumored that despite hard times he had refused to sell his yacht so that he could maintain the standard of living he had grown accustomed to with his second wife, who was called Bonnie or Pudge.
Hirsch would have settled for a sailboat, though he didn’t know how to sail. He had never liked the sea, or the sand. Once, in the summer, he had rowed across a lake. The boat had sprung a leak and he had almost tipped it over when he stood up to investigate further. Fortunately he could swim. There was a camp on the other side of the lake. He had been drawn to it by the excited children’s voices carrying across the lake on still, hot days and knew there would be counselors too, girls in shorts and summery blouses. The girls on his side of the lake were unappealing or already taken. There was a dock and he stayed until the evening but found no one to talk to and then when it was dark and couples began to go off together and again there was a buzz of excited voices in the air, campfires, shouting, laughter, sudden cries, he felt an awful kind of loneliness in that romantic night.
Hirsch seldom ate in the company cafeteria. He preferred to eat outside and on Fridays, of course, he ate with Walt and Charlie. They had their egg salad sandwiches and Hirsch got one too. Hirsch watched his pennies. That was why he often ate in the Automat. He and Harriet had their rent to pay and installments on the TV and phonograph and the new sofa in the living room as well as other items in the house. He didn’t know what he would have done without that recent ten-
dollar raise. Once, he knew, Harriet had borrowed money from her author, but he had seen to it that she had paid it back. Once he had come home for lunch, thinking to surprise Harriet, but she hadn’t been there.
The woman called Dolores had reddish hair and wore heavy makeup which caked and cracked so that her face was full of lines like those ancient vases you find on the
archeological digs which have to be glued together by trained men in special museum rooms. She may or may not have had a breast removed. Hirsch couldn’t tell. He understood that women could use padding or undergo some kind of
corrective surgery. He didn’t pry. Solly would have known but Hirsch didn’t think it was appropriate to ask him, though he imagined ways that he might lead him to broach the subject on his own, talk about medical coverage, cancer research, deformed women, that sort of thing. He had seen Walt and Charlie talking to her but didn’t believe she would have taken them into her confidence to the extent of revealing such intimate details about her personal life. The foreign girl who sat opposite her would have known for sure, Hirsch thought, but he had never really had a private conversation with her and was somewhat put off by the fact that she was going out with someone in Maintenance and therefore taken. Hirsch tried to find a pretext to touch Dolores and one day brought her a document to explain and put his face very close to hers and touched her arm. She did not seem to notice. She wore very strong perfume but he could smell something unsavory underneath it.
In the beginning his relations with the girls in the other room had been awkward. One or another of them would be delegated to invite him to the coffee dispenser for the morning and afternoo
n coffee breaks in an effort to make him feel at home, on the assumption that he was unfamiliar with office routine. Perhaps Solly was behind this, though Hirsch was inclined to believe that he was not, as it was more the kind of consideration that would be shown by the female members of the species with their greater sensitivity to people’s feelings. Hirsch typically nodded when one of the girls came in, to indicate that he understood it was time for coffee again, and perhaps a pastry, making a show of rearranging the papers on his deck so that whoever it was that had invited him would understand that it was with a measure of reluctance that he tore himself away from his work. It was clear that the girls were taking turns, as a different one invited him each day, until they saw that he had learned the ropes and was already getting up from his desk when one or another of the girls came in. Of course he might have followed the lead of Walt and Charlie during these first days, but he was not really attuned to their comings and goings and in any case they spent so much time at the coffee dispenser that it was impossible to judge by their example when it was appropriate to get some coffee oneself, and sometimes when he half-rose seeing them emerge from their room it turned out that he had misjudged their intentions and they were off in a different direction, so that he would have to sit down again, hearing Walt say, “Not yet.”
Hirsch did not say much at first but gradually came to feel more at ease and would make a terse comment from time to time, soon gaining a reputation as something of a wit. The girls all laughed when he made one of his remarks, which was flattering, unless they were still trying to make him feel at home. Of course he had dealings with them outside the framework of the coffee break, often having to clarify a point with one or another of them in the line of duty. As a liaison officer he had a measure of authority and his appearance in the other room was something of an event, alerting the girls to the possibility that something might be amiss in their paperwork, so that heads were raised and there was a good deal of fidgeting when he came in, unless of course he was on his way to the coffee dispenser or the men’s room. Mr. Kroll, on the other hand, never looked up from his desk. At three in the afternoon he stopped stamping papers and ate an apple.
The long room where the woman of Accounting sat together with the computer people and where the coffee
dispenser, the rest rooms and the emergency exit were located were the bowels if not the heart of the operation. Hirsch sat in the vestibule or anteroom facing the main entrance. Then came Payroll, Quotations, and Solly’s office at the opposite end of the corridor. It was an intimate arrangement, even if Payroll and Quotations kept their doors closed. Solly’s door was always open, except when he was talking to his broker or dressing someone down. When you wanted to see Solly you knocked at the open door out of courtesy and always said, “Got a minute?” unless you had been summoned, in which case you dashed breathlessly into the room and pulled up opposite his desk. Walt and Charlie generally cleared their throats instead of knocking but this was not considered entirely proper and no one in the office would have taken such a liberty. Hirsch had suggested installing an interoffice phone system which would enable employees to buzz one another when the need arose but Solly was of the opinion that this would encourage social calls and it was bad enough, he said, that people spent so much time in the toilets.
Hirsch kept his letter of resignation in his bottom drawer, underneath a ledger. In the drawer above it he kept his current files and in the top drawer his spare supplies: pencils and an extra pencil sharpener, erasers, paper clips, staples, rubber bands, markers, carbon paper, graph paper. Office supplies, being a precious commodity, were Solly’s domain, kept in a locked closet in his office. There had been talk about transferring responsibility for supplies to Dolores, but Hirsch understood that the fat matron in Payroll was also in the running for the position, and besides Solly had let drop certain remarks indicating that he had serious doubts about Dolores’s capacity to assume additional responsibility, given her medical problems. For a while the office was effectively divided into two rival and one might almost say hostile camps or factions, one supporting Dolores, the other supporting the matron, and naturally enough certain resentments came to the surface, forcing Solly to call a special meeting to quiet things down. Mr. Kroll surprisingly supported the matron, though there was no connection between them, unless it was through Miss Malone, with whom Mr. Kroll was occasionally seen. Hirsch followed Solly’s lead and also threw his support to the matron. However, he did not rule out Dolores entirely. She was well organized and highly competent, as far as Hirsch could see. She knew her stuff, that is, accounts payable. She had mastered the trade.
All the women of Accounting were in effect highly competent. It was to Solly’s credit that he had put together such a team. The constant hustle and bustle in the office, befitting an army in the field on the eve of battle, was a
tribute to his leadership. No one walked, except Dolores, who had some problem with her legs, and old Mr. Kroll, who would not have been expected to bestir himself, and in any event never left his cage. Visitors to the department were astounded by the constant movement, and the horrendous clatter of the office machines. On one extraordinary occasion the majority stockholder had brought some associates up to the department for a quick look at how the office operated. Solly had been called out and introduced, engaging in a lengthy conversation with the contingent. This had been a source of considerable departmental pride, giving everyone a big lift. Hirsch too had felt the glow. It reminded them that they were being led by a formidable personage who could hold his own in any professional or social framework.
Paychecks were handed out on Thursday afternoons and cashed at five o’clock at a local bank. Sometimes Walt and Charlie came by to observe the long lines there, as though they had a vested interest in the disposition of the Company’s
funds, or perhaps out of a feeling of solidarity with the
Company’s workers. Of course none of the higher-ups cashed their checks there. No doubt they deposited them in their own banks, not being strapped for cash and in no immediate need of money perhaps to get on the subway or pay for their suppers. Hirsch always had a good feeling after he cashed his check. Most of the money he left in his account, to pay the bills. Harriet put her money into the account too. It was a joint account. After the bills were paid, just enough was left to enjoy the better things in life—an occasional pizza and sometimes a movie.
It was the treasurer who signed the hundreds if not thousands of checks. The computer worked all night on Wednesday and the checks were brought to him early on Thursday morning by the computer people in a big box while the fat matron’s assistant brought down the payslips from Payroll. She was a sturdy girl and so could manage the payslip box by herself, racing down the stairs just behind the computer people. Only once had she fallen, bruising a knee. She subsequently inserted the paychecks and payslips into the pay envelopes with the assistance of the treasurer’s secretary. On Thursday night the checks for the upstate plant were dispatched by overnight courier. This was a well-coordinated operation that ensured the arrival of paychecks and payslips on time to all the workers in the Company. The treasurer, of course, deserved some of the credit, and it was clear that he had thought things out, always being supplied with extra pens, and of course his secretary helped stuff the envelopes, but it was mostly Solly who was responsible for the logistics, bringing the whole thing off week after week in a businesslike way that left little doubt about his fitness for high command. The next day there would be a long line outside the matron’s door as workers turned up to complain about real or imagined errors. The matron heard everyone out patiently and made the necessary adjustments. It was an exhausting week for Payroll and the fat matron and her assistant deservedly left a bit early on Friday afternoons, perhaps for a drink before heading home. What they did on the weekends Hirsch had no way of knowing but they were back again on Monday morning and the entire process of collecting and adding up time cards began anew.
> Clearly Payroll had a special status in the organization, holding all the cards as it were, and were treated with the greatest deference. Walt and Charlie, fascinated, could watch them work for hours at a time, pausing only to refill their Styrofoam coffee cups and occasionally have a donut. Payroll of course added up its own time cards as well, presenting in this instance, according to Walt, an interesting paradox of the order of Zeno’s, for they were in effect being paid to determine how much they were to be paid for determining how much they were to be paid, and so on and so forth in an infinite progression. Walt called this the Inverted Time Card Paradox and was determined to crack it. What you had, he said, was a self-sustaining cost floating around in the system that it was impossible to flush out. Solly called him an idiot, though not to his face. Hirsch gave the matter some thought and was inclined to agree.
As far as Hirsch could see, relations were fairly harmonious in the Company, that is, among departments and
employees and certainly among executives who had that special aura and never let their feelings show unless they were shouting at some unfortunate clerk. They were chummy vis-à-vis one another and remote vis-à-vis everyone else. In executive circles they often talked about their weekends and how they spent their money. Of course beneath all this there were bound to be smoldering resentments, among both executives and ordinary employees, of the kind exposed in the “supply closet” affair. People didn’t like the way Payroll lorded it over everyone. Quotations was also something of a prima donna, seldom appearing at the coffee dispenser. Payroll and Quotations had their own offices and always kept their doors closed, as already mentioned. Once Hirsch had been sent to Quotations by Walt and Charlie to retrieve a document and had been told that nothing could be taken out of the room. Shamefaced, he had had to report back to the two auditors that he had been scornfully dismissed and told in no uncertain terms never to come back. Walt and Charlie had gone to Quotations themselves, not even knocking on the door. The whole office could hear the shouting. Solly had had to intervene. He had called Hirsch in to give his side of the story. Apparently there had been some scuffling because a wastepaper basket was overturned and Charlie’s tie was thrown over his head. Everyone was breathing hard. This sort of thing was almost unheard of on company premises and for weeks people talked about nothing else. Hirsch, who had been in the room, was naturally the focus of everyone’s attention, using the opportunity to sharpen his storytelling skills and reporting the entire incident to Harriet with considerable embellishment.
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