Harrowing

by S. E. Amadis

  Geri drummed her fingers across her desk as I delivered my status report to her. I didn’t need to go into the agency to talk about my new assignment. It wasn’t a requirement for me to continue working for them, and it was something I had never done before. But for some reason, I felt as if some sort of tacit agreement existed between Geri and me. It was as if she needed extra reassurance that I was still up to the job. That I still conserved my competence and capabilities.

  “So, how are you getting on with Sandra Bleckley?” she asked, pretending to be all briskness and business. Her surreptitious glances at the movements of my hands and her intense scrutiny of my expression, however, betrayed her lack of confidence in me.

  “Great!” I exclaimed, perhaps a little too enthusiastically. “No, really, Geri. We get along a mint. She’s a cool boss.”

  Geri nodded.

  “Mmmhh-hhmmhh. And your co-workers? How are things with them?”

  “Wonderful,” I chimed in on cue. “Haven’t got any problems with any of them.”

  I thought about Ursula, but decided there was no point in mentioning her. It wasn’t like she was making my life impossible or anything like that, anyways.

  “And...” Geri hesitated. I wondered what was up. “And, how about the men in the office? Everything smooth with them?”

  So that was where she was headed.

  I nodded and mimed a thumbs up.

  “Just great,” I said. “And yes, there are a few men there. The Vice President, the CFO... But no problems with any of them. Things are just groovy.”

  Geri studied my face carefully.

  “No, really, Geri. You can trust me. I’m not a basket case,” I hastened to assure her. “And even though I really don’t think it’s necessary for me to tell you this, because I’m just fine, but yes, I am seeing a counsellor.”

  Geri feigned surprise.

  “You’re right, Annasuya. You really don’t need to tell me these details. I’ve never questioned your mental stability.”

  She straightened my timesheets on her desk.

  “Just as long as you fulfil all your duties without any problems. And if you were giving any problems, you can be sure Sandra would be on to me in about two seconds. But I haven’t heard a peep from her. Which means all is well.”

  She smiled.

  “The company is pleased with you. And they’ve leaked to me – and this is something I’m not really supposed to tell you yet, but I thought a boost would do you good.” She cleared her throat. “At any rate, they’ve suggested that if you keep up with your excellent performance, they might raise your salary in a month or so.”

  Hugh barged across the room at that moment and draped himself awkwardly over Geri’s desk, plunking some sort of contraption painted a dull brown over her papers and scattering them about in droves. I remembered him from my last visit here. His spiky hair seemed to stick out more wildly than before, and his flowery, Hawaiian print shirt clashed with his tie-dyed loose cloth pants.

  “What’s up, Hugh?” Geri bristled. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Can’t whatever it is wait until I’m finished?”

  Hugh shook his head and chewed on his fingers.

  “Some weirdo from Young Brothers is shrieking her head off at me on the phone,” he blustered out, half hysterical. “I can’t do anything about her. Says the clerk you sent her is a dodo. Demanded to speak to my superior immediately.”

  Geri sighed.

  “And check out this elevator,” he hastened to add. “I finished it just last night. It even goes up and down.” He jammed a finger over a button. “And dings on every floor, too.”

  We gawked as the painted brown box lurched to life and started jerking its sullen way up the shaft, stopping at every finely-carved door and dinging. As an added measure, Hugh had also programmed a light to go on above each doorway when the lift arrived. Geri stared at it in fascination, tore her gaze away reluctantly.

  “It’s awesome, Hugh,” she said with genuine respect, then sighed again. “Well, better get onto that call. I knew I shouldn’t have sent in that new girl. This is her first job ever, fresh out of high school.”

  She cast an apologetic glance at me.

  “You don’t mind, do you, Annasuya? If you’ll just excuse me for a minute, I have to take that call.”

  I raised my hand.

  “No problem, Geri.”

  Geri hopped over to a nearby desk, far enough away that I wouldn’t hear her conversation. Hugh ogled at me and nudged at his thick glasses.

  “I’ve seen you before,” he stammered. “You’re... you’re that really neat chick with the weird name, aren’t you?”

  Well, if you’re trying to endear yourself to someone, I didn’t think calling their name weird was exactly the proper way to go about doing it. But I smiled at him anyways.

  “Annasuya. My name is Annasuya Rose,” I said. “And that, um, apparatus is pretty clever. Did you make it yourself?”

  He cracked an awkward grin.

  “It’s nothing. Just a plaything, really.” He waved his hand in the air, feigning frivolity. But I could tell, from the way his eyes sparkled, that he was pleased. “Cos I couldn’t make anything elaborate to bring to work. I’ve got stuff a lot more complicated at home, though.”

  He blinked his prominent brown eyes earnestly at me.

  “Um. Nice name,” he muttered at last. “Why’d they give you such a name?”

  I considered not answering such a stupid question.

  “It’s Sanskrit,” I commented, and didn’t say anything more.

  He stared even harder at me.

  “Whuff, y-y-you don’t look Indian,” he stuttered.

  I didn’t know what to say. Fortunately, Julia, Geri’s boss, chose that opportune moment to wander over.

  “Annasuya,” she cried with delight and grasped my hand in a heart-felt handshake. “So good to see you around. You’re doing better, I hope?”

  I nodded, heaving a sigh of relief.

  “Yes. Yes, everything’s great with me.”

  Julia cast a disapproving look at Hugh.

  “Did you want something?” she hinted.

  Hugh shook his head and started slinking away.

  “Nice... nice meeting you... um...” He gulped. “Sorry, I forgot your name?”

  Julia glared at him.

  “Sorry,” he repeated, grabbed his elevator and trailed away.

  “So, Geri tells me you’ve got a new assignment.” Julia beamed at me. “How’s it working out?”

  “Great, Julia.”

  Julia’s eyes wandered over me, taking in my perky hairdo and rather puritan outfit.

  “You look wonderful. But one suggestion.” She tugged at my loose-fitting dark slacks. “Baggy trousers aren’t in anymore, you know.” She chuckled.

  I had to grin with her.

  “You’re right,” I said.

  “You know, there are ways to look fashionable and elegant while still retaining your... um, modesty,” she hinted discreetly.

  This time I had to laugh aloud.

  “I’m not suggesting skin-tight jeans,” she continued. “But a pair of straight-legged dress pants would work wonderfully in an office. They’re still conservative, modest. But they’ll help you look more in with the times. After all, we’re not living in The Little House on the Prairie anymore.”

  I giggled and nodded in agreement.

  Julia got to her feet, assuming her usual, confident stance.

  “Well, I must run. But it was good seeing you around.”

  She patted me on the shoulder succinctly and disappeared.

  Geri returned a minute later. She flashed an overly optimistic smile at me.

  “Good, Annasuya. Looks like everything is all in order with you,” she remarked. “Here, take a few more timesheets.”

  She scooped up a pile and dumped them in my lap.

  “I don’t need so many. I do make photocopies of them, you know.”

  Geri waved her hand frivolous
ly.

  “Well, but you can never have too many. So, I’ll see you around. Right?”

  I stood up, nodding.

  “And of course, I’ll give you a call if and when they decide to raise your salary,” she continued, then turned her back, dismissing me already.

  It was a relief to leave the agency.

  *

  Rudolph Verenich had located his gym in a sleazy neighbourhood at the end of Spadina Avenue, down near the waterfront, in one of the few original factory buildings still remaining. The compact brick structure oozing with mould and grime, apparently built during the heyday of the industrial era, was covered with rows of dingy windows that had probably never enjoyed the touch of a window-cleaner in the past twenty years or so. Hence, the gym was dark and gloomy and reeked of blocked drains and fetid water.

  As usual, Rudolph drove us like a slave master. He made Jill, the middle-aged housewife, concentrate on pounding the daylights out of a punching bag during most of the class. Tina dropped her guard and the geek with the flaccid muscles, Barry Shulman, managed to hook her in the cheek with his elbow. Apparently it was a first for him, because he shrieked and jumped up and down flashing V gestures at everyone.

  Rudolph positioned me to kick targets on the wall for most of the class. Finally, in a spasm of boredom, I dashed up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He stared at me in astonishment. Apparently I had broken some sort of unwritten rule.

  “This is going too slow for me, Rudolph,” I said. “I want to learn how to defend myself now. Not thirty years from now, after some thug’s already killed me.”

  Rudolph arched his eyebrows and tilted his head towards me sarcastically.

  “Zo? You can’t even hit ze targets right and already you want advanced work? Who you think I am, Annasuya Adler? Jesus ze Christ? I can’t work miracles.”

  I tossed my towel over my shoulder and began strolling towards the changing rooms.

  “Don’t think your get-up’s all that fancy, Mr. Verenich,” I said. “If you can’t teach me what I want I’m going elsewhere.”

  Rudolph stared after me for a moment, a stunned expression on his face. Then he dashed up to me and grabbed me by the shoulder. I spun around, furious, and angled him a hard kick to the side of his face. He gaped at me, his cheek flaring red underneath the coarse black beard.

  “Ah, you dropped your guard, Mr. Verenich,” I told him.

  He raised his fist, rage burning in his eyes, and aimed it at me. I dropped to my knees instinctively. After a moment of incredulity, Rudolph burst into raucous laughter. He waggled his finger at me like an academic delivering a lecture.

  “Ah, I zee you are learning, Annasuya Adler.” He chuckled. “Zen you can’t deny you have learnt zomething here.”

  He waved towards the door.

  “Well, if you don’t believe in me, you are free to leave, Annasuya Adler. I am not a kidnapper. I don’t retain anyone here against zeir will.”

  He hardened his face.

  “But if you want to learn how I do it, you will stay here. Of your own free will.”

  He stepped aside and nodded curtly, awaiting my decision.

  I studied him for a minute. Then took a deep breath and plunged in, deciding to put him to the test.

  “Mr. Verenich, what would you do if, say, oh, five burly men were to attack you at the same time?”

  Rudolph merely arched his eyebrows at me again.

  “Five men? Why five, Annasuya Adler?”

  I shrugged.

  “It’s just a number, that occurred to me.”

  Rudolph nodded sagely.

  “I have taken on five men at ze zame time before,” he replied. “I made zem mush. But zey were not trained martial artists.”

  I paused, pretended to think things over.

  “And what would you do if a man, bigger and taller than you, were to grab you from behind in a stranglehold and pull you up off your feet?”

  Rudolph grinned.

  “Zat would not happen!” he exclaimed. “Bigger zan me? Taller zan me? How zat happen? You kid me, do you? You pull my leg, Annasuya Adler. I am six feet tall.”

  “But if it did happen?” I insisted. “You’re not the tallest person in the world.” Imaginations of Bruno towering over even a proudly well-trained Rudolph Verenich came to mind. “It could happen to me. Or to any one of us in the class. We are not six feet tall.”

  I glanced around. All activity had stopped and everyone’s eyes were upon me. Rudolph licked his lips.

  “Very well,” he replied at last. “Zomeone grab me in stranglehold, I duck down, flip person over my head onto his back.” He shrugged. “How you zay? Easy peasy?”

  “And if he pulled you up off your feet?” I goaded at him.

  “Zat would not happen. Zat could not happen,” he exclaimed in indignation. “I am six feet tall.”

  “But if you were short, like the rest of us?”

  Rudolph looked from one of his students to another, frowning, then lowered his head.

  “Bad man pull me off my feet? Zen even I can do nothing.”

  His voice dropped down almost to a whisper. A minute later he raised his head and gazed fiercely at me.

  “Zat what you want me to zay, Annasuya Adler? Zat zometimes I am helpless too?”

  I nodded thoughtfully.

  “That’s what I wanted to hear,” I replied softly. Then I threw my towel back on the floor and raised my fists. “Give me my next task, Mr. Verenich.”

  As I was leaving the class, Rudolph strolled towards me with a peculiar look on his face.

  “Zo. You have won my respect now, Annasuya Adler. Even you can’t even kick the target properly, yet already you have my respect. Zat is rare, you know. Normally you need to win my respect with your fists. Zat ze kind of man I am, Annasuya Adler.”

  I smiled faintly.

  “I’m glad. But stop repeating my name so much,” I hissed.

  I bent to pick up my bag.

  “Is zat what happened to you, Annasuya Rose Adler? Zat is ze reason why you come here? Zome baddie picked you up off the ground in a stranglehold?”

  I licked my lips and shook my head.

  “See you next class, Mr. Verenich,” I said.

  But as I strode away, it suddenly occurred to me: I had never told him my middle name was Rose.

  So how did he know?

  Chapter 17

  How did Rudolph know my middle name? And could that have any bearing on the things that had been happening to me lately? On the men who were stalking me? If Rudolph knew my name, it could have been him. It could be anyone in the class. Barry Shulman, maybe. The bloke who’d been robbed while he cowered in his bed.

  I tried to remember the voice of the man who had attacked me the other night. That night when I’d walked to Mr. Leong’s takeout restaurant. Had it sounded like Rudolph Verenich? Or Barry? I had always simply assumed it must have been Bruno. But now I wasn’t so sure.

  But if it wasn’t Bruno, who else could it possibly have been?

  “You shouldn’t be bumming about so late at night all by yourself, whore,” the voice had proclaimed. As far as I could recall, it hadn’t sported a foreign accent of any sort.

  “Lots of crazies out there, Annasuya Rose.” Whoever it had been knew my middle name. Who else knew my middle name?

  I tried to formulate a list of the people I’d told my middle name to. Dr. Rheinhardt. Geri, my agent at the temp firm. Julia, Geri’s boss. Lindsay. Calvin, of course. Sandy Bleckley. Bruno Jarvas. Even Barry Shulman might have heard Rudolph mention it in class. As far as I could recall, I hadn’t told my full name to Bruno Jarvas. But it was on my timesheets. And also on my Facebook page.

  And now Rudolph Verenich knew it as well.

  *

  That night I made an effort and actually managed to whip up fettucini with roquefort. Romeo’s mouth flew open when I placed the dish down before him.

  “Well, today it’s real pasta with homemade sauce. Tomorrow what will
we have? Canard à l’orange?” quipped Calvin.

  “Canary?” Romeo yelped, gulping.

  I laughed.

  “Canaries, no, ugh.” I made a face. “I have no idea what a canary must taste like.”

  “Probably something similar to a chicken,” Calvin mused. “And probably not so different from quail or partridge.”

  “You wouldn’t kill those cute little yellow things, would you, Cal?” asked Romeo.

  Calvin only smiled enigmatically.

  “No, sugar pie, I am not going to make duck,” I said. “I think that’s still a bit beyond me.”

  Calvin clapped his hands.

  “Tell you what, hon. If you bring me a gigantic basting duck this weekend, I will make a roast that will have you licking your fingers all the way to bed.”

  I curled up on my favourite sofa-futon after dinner and idled through Calvin’s mobile while Calvin washed the dishes. Something in his phone made me sit up and scream.

  “Calvin, what the fuck is this?”

  Romeo came running in alarm.

  “What happened, Mimi? Did something happen to you?”

  I shook my head, grim.

  “Nothing has happened to me. But something dire is certainly going to happen to Calvin in two seconds if he doesn’t explain himself clearly to me.”

  Calvin turned around and wiped his hands on a dish towel.

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he exclaimed, mildly surprised. “As far as I’m aware, I haven’t done anything... lately.”

  I flashed his mobile, glaring angrily at him.

  “What’s this? You took pictures of that grisly dead cat?”

  Calvin shrugged, appearing relieved.

  “That’s it, hon? Of course I did. It’s evidence, isn’t it? In case you decide to report it to the police. Which, I still say, I really think you should.”

  I strode up to him and gave him a forceful shove.

  “You took photos of that ghastly thing, you fucking asshole? What are you, some sick pervert?”

  Calvin gaped at me, this time really surprised. At last he held up his hands as if in truce.

  “Well, yeah. I mean, does that bother you? Don’t tell me it actually bugs you.”

  “Of course it does!” I pitched his phone at him. “What do you want? To keep a memento of what happened to me? To carry it around so you can remind me about it whenever you feel like it? Get the hell out, you perverted bastard.”