Hadrian's Wall

by Felicia Jensen

  “Just eat it! If you pass out from starvation and the police stop me, they’ll think I’m a serial killer and you’re my latest victim. Girl, with your face, they’ll think that I grabbed you out of a schoolhouse. Oh, I can see it now!” He pantomimed with his thumb and forefinger. “Bang! Bang! They’ll shoot first and ask questions later.”

  I laughed. The way he put things, it wouldn’t be impossible. I didn’t want to be responsible for a tragedy like that, so I decided to eat the hamburger.

  Later, as we crossed the state line between New Hampshire and Maine, whose official state motto—“Dirigo”—seemed very promising, it all started to make sense. I realized that I was taking the reins of my destiny. The fact that Maine’s official insect—the bee—was a good omen. I once read on the Internet that the Greek origin of my name meant something like “bee produces honey.” It was a sign.

  When I was a little girl, my father always told me to be alert to the slightest signs because they were “tips of destiny.”

  * * *

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but I must have slept for quite a while. I woke up just as the lights of South Portland appeared in the truck’s windshield. Night was falling...

  “Hey, sleepyhead! Did you get a little rest?”

  I covered a yawn with my fist. The gesture made me more aware of the painful calluses on my fingers.

  “I had no idea I was so tired,” I said.

  He laughed and said something that I had not picked up on about the picturesque region of South Portland. He was driving to a periphery neighborhood where his sister lived.

  “I’m worried that I’ve caused you to take a long detour away from your usual route just to help me.”

  His response was a brushing away gesture. “Not at all! I intended to spend the night at Carmen’s apartment to save money. I’ll be moving on to Nova Scotia tomorrow.”

  “Oh, so your final stop is not Augusta...” I was discouraged at the thought that I was going to lose the first friendship that I’d made since leaving the orphanage.

  “Yes, but I’ll pass through here on my way back to see how you’re doing in your new life,” he said sincerely. He seemed like an older brother and I liked it very much. However, that tiny inner voice reminded me that it wasn’t good for me to become emotionally dependent on anyone no matter how needy I was because one day, people will leave and I’ll be alone...again.

  We arrived at Carmen’s house when only a trace of purple light was visible on the horizon. It was almost completely dark. I could see very little of the city, but the little I saw was very beautiful. Green spaces were interspersed between urban, becoming denser the closer they were to the forest. The neighborhood was nestled in a hollow between two small hills and the sea. It was cozy and clean. I was absolutely blown away!

  Carmen received her brother joyfully and did not seem surprised or upset to see me with him. She was very young...maybe three years older than me. She lived in a small apartment above a busy cafe. Bob told me that her place a rental, but it was very practical because it was near Carmen’s workplace.

  He quickly introduced us and then insisted on carrying my suitcase inside. I had the perverse satisfaction—secretly, of course—of seeing a guy his size having difficulty dealing with my suitcase’s temperamental wheels. That would mean that I was not a weakling after all! A little breathless, he reached the first floor.

  To my embarrassment, Bob got straight to the point about my sad situation. Carmen did not speak while her brother explained everything. She nodded occasionally, interrupting only to invite us to share her dinner, which consisted of a hearty soup and homemade bread. I began to imagine that she was looking for a polite way of saying she could not help me, but she surprised me.

  “Sure! It will be easy to find a position for Melissa. The store always needs staff, especially with cleaning.” She looked at me, suddenly worried. “That is, if you don’t mind doing that kind of work. It’s hard work.” In that moment, it seemed to me that both of them looked at me, evaluating my physical condition.

  Please! Like I’d never wielded a broom before? Do they think I’m made of plastic?

  I hurried to answer before she misunderstood my confusion. “Of course I don’t mind. I’m not afraid to work, Carmen. All I want is an opportunity.”

  Satisfied, Carmen smiled and then turned to face her brother.

  “Great! Problem solved!”

  Carmen was single, but had an extra room for when her brother appeared between his trips. Although Bob lived in Vermont with his wife and two children, he frequently drove the route that took him to Portland, Maine.

  They both decided that I would stay in the extra bedroom and this time, Bob would sleep on the couch. I protested because I felt guilty. They had both been so kind to me, while I was just an unexpected inconvenience that had appeared in their lives. It was not fair to change their routine because of me. Bob must have been exhausted, but wanted me to be comfortable. “But I can sleep on the couch,” I said. Upon seeing their frowns, I thought it was better to shut up.

  I enjoyed the second decent shower I’d taken since I left the orphanage. I sighed with relief, completely relaxed, not wanting to leave the shower, but it wasn’t cool that I use all the hot water. I was the guest, so reluctantly I turned off the faucet and got out.

  I peeked in the bathroom mirror and did a quick review of my pathetic face. I seemed less downcast. The dark circles were softer, my cheeks were flush, and my eyes didn’t look so tired. Who would ever believe that just yesterday, I was a desperate person with no prospects. Now, with a stroke of luck, a path had been cleared for me.

  I had a wonderful night’s sleep. The mattress was comfortable and the pillows smelled like flowers. I woke up the next morning with a vague remembrance of a clearing bathed in moonlight where there was an enormous mirrored lake.

  I had read enough about dreams and hallucinations to know that the memory of a dream could be more a manifestation of a desire than the result of repressed emotions and day-to-day experiences. So, did this mean that I was dying to find a lake? No big deal!

  Bob left before dawn. I regretted not having the opportunity to say goodbye, but he left me a note, wishing me good luck!

  After breakfast, I helped with the dishes. I was elated. I think Carmen realized this and did her chores quickly so that we could leave early. Thus, she would have time to show me a little of the neighborhood.

  We crossed the block without hurrying. The day was perfect for walking. A perfect day! Carmen gestured all the time, pointing out the sights, including the beach. I was fascinated! However, I knew that all I’d see tomorrow would be the inside of the department store.

  * * *

  The store was not as large as those I’d seen on television, but it seemed majestic, especially for a girl like me who knew nothing of life beyond Coos. I remembered two of the ‘80s comedies whose settings were department stores.

  It was still closed when we arrived, but there was activity going on as employees were stocking the shelves and arranging the merchandise before customers arrived. Some looked at me with obvious curiosity, while others didn’t notice me at all. Carmen asked me to present myself to the head of the cleaning crew, delivering to her the note that Carmen had written as head of the personnel department. I took the note and off I went.

  I was still looking for the elevator when I saw an employee standing in an open area, admiring his own image which was being broadcast on a big TV screen. When he saw me standing next to him, he asked me to stand in his place. Although somewhat confused, I agreed. I honestly thought he was crazy. Soon my face appeared on the big screen. The recording device oscillated from the young man to me and then finally settled on me. I was amazed to see my own image.

  The young man explained that he was adjusting the webcam on the computer to capture images of customers and display them on the TV screen. That’s when I realized I was being filmed by a tiny camera. The young man thanked me for my help
and offered to take me to the elevator.

  “By the way, my name is Stanley Marsh, but you can call me Stan.”

  “Melissa Baker.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mel.” He shook my hand vigorously. “Can I call you Mel?”

  Why do people feel compelled to abbreviate my name? Well, I knew it sounded impolite to correct them all the time, so to avoid any problems, I gave up trying long ago.

  “Sure.” I shrugged.

  We talked a bit while I waited for the elevator. I promised to return to the electronics department later to tell him about my first day of work.

  Following Stan’s directions, I easily found the cleaning department office. The nameplate on the door confirmed that I was in the right place. I felt a pang in the pit of my stomach, silently hoping that the woman would like me enough to give me a job. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door hesitantly. I heard an almost inaudible “Come in,” so I put on my best smile and entered.

  I approached the desk, which had obviously seen better days. The woman sitting at the desk didn’t return my smile. Her expressionless face just evaluated me—more like dissected me! Mmmm... this is not a good sign.

  After reading Carmen’s note, the woman told me to go into the locker room next door to her office, find a uniform, and put it on. She told me to choose one that fit me and then give her my measurements so that she could give me an extra one.

  I went to the locker room without really knowing what to expect, but do you know what? Honestly, I loved my uniform! It was blue...a lighter shade on a darker shade. It was brand new, very clean, and stylish. Since when do you know anything about fashion, girl?

  I defended myself, mentally arguing that at least I tried to get interested in the subject. After all, fashion is an expression of art too, even if directed to a particular market—like movies and books are, but that was not the point here. For someone who had always worn clothes donated by others—mended, worn, and most often the wrong size, this uniform was the height of elegance...and it was my first brand new outfit.

  My new boss found me in the locker room and looked at my sneakers—the only pair of shoes I had that didn’t hurt my feet.

  “You don’t have a pair of black moccasins or ballet flats?” she asked with obvious annoyance.

  I thought about my black ballet flats with the hole in the right sole...the ballet flats that almost killed me...

  “I don’t.”

  She sighed. “We’ll have to get you a standard pair of shoes.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief. For a moment I thought I’d be in trouble because of my shoes. The woman appeared to be like those leaders who pride themselves on “going by the book.” As if to prove my analysis, she told me to put my hair in a bun and tuck it underneath the blue cap. I didn’t know to make a bun or braid hair or any more elaborate hairstyle, so I improvised a ponytail and wrapped it around the elastic.

  “You have very long hair,” she said, impassively watching me attempt to hide my hair under the cap. I think it was not a compliment.

  She kept looking at my hair until I felt embarrassed. I turned on my heels and left the locker room. She followed close behind me, her face still inscrutable.

  “Come,” she finally said.

  We did a tour through the store. My boss introduced me to the rest of the cleaning staff first and then to the other employees who were on the morning shift, but only those who crossed our path, since some people I had seen before did not join the queue for introductions. Stan was one of them.

  Suddenly, I saw the guy—you know, the kind of person who strikes you as threatening the instant you see them.

  “The security chief,” my new boss muttered with obvious displeasure. The man stared at us intently. He smiled, but didn’t approach me. I thought it would be polite for me to reciprocate, but my boss scolded me softly. “Don’t give him any rope. Be very careful with Simon Cridder. He’s worthless, but he’s also very dangerous.”

  What exactly does that mean? I wondered, hurrying to follow her. She walked faster and faster. When we passed in front of him, I realized how huge he was—well over six and a half feet tall. Although he wore a uniform like other mall cops, it did disguise the fact that he was the size of a Viking.

  “New meat, Hilda?” He chuckled in a low tone voice, which to my ears sounded as obscene as his question.

  “Don’t mess with my employees,” she hissed at him, without breaking stride.

  I saw him wink at me as I sped past to catch up with her. I turned my face away and silently prayed to never cross paths with him again, but I knew that would be impossible working in such a small environment. Sooner or later... I shuddered, unable to finish the thought.

  My boss must have read my mind because she said, “The secret is never to be alone with him. Always make sure that there’s someone else around and if not, then go to another department. Understood?”

  I was afraid to ask her what the man had done that made it necessary to take such measures to avoid him.

  Hilda showed me where the cleaning materials were kept. She gave me a map of the cleaning sectors and how I should proceed without interfering with customers or colleagues. She also told me that employees and a schedule of workdays and hours, as well as the areas they were to clean. Because she was new, her boss would have to fit her into the schedule, rotating between day shift and night shift, every other week.

  She concluded her explanations, promising to fit me in the schedule by the end of the day. From there, she let me work with the “cleaning team,” as she liked to call her employees. Each team consisted of three girls who were in charge of cleaning the bathrooms on each floor.

  Although I didn’t have immediate rapport with them, I was relieved that there wasn’t any trouble. They treated me like the typical “new girl.” It was no different than at school when the students do their best to make a new student feel left out. My colleagues talked only among themselves, speaking to me only when they wanted to tell me, in great detail, the procedures for cleaning the most disgusting places—especially the toilet bowls, which of course was to be my job. They talked about past situations when they saw really disgusting things, as if they thought it would make me feel disgusted and angry. Are you serious? I said to myself. Do I have ‘baby girl’ tattooed on my forehead? I think they doubted that I had the same strength or capacity as they had to perform these tasks.

  As the day progressed, I proved that they were sadly mistaken. Despite my frail physique or my baby face, I managed to perform the tasks I was given, all the while diligently ignoring my fatigue. I couldn’t be as physically strong as they were, but my determination was stronger than theirs—stronger than everyone’s.

  At the end of the day, Carmen found me changing my clothes in the locker room. She was eager to know how my first day had gone. We chatted about the day’s events as we back to her apartment. She explained some things about the department store’s policies and procedures, and my hiring.

  I seized this opportunity to tell her about the bizarre advice that Hilda had given me about Simon Cridder. I thought we’d have a good laugh, but that’s not what happened. Carmen became very serious, surprising me when she spoke with the same vehemence as my new boss.

  “There was an episode last year...” she began, but hesitated for a moment when she saw my confused look. “A girl claimed that he attacked her, but it was never proven. When the cops discovered that her boyfriend was involved with drugs, it became a case of one person’s word against the other’s.”

  She lowered her head and stared at her own feet. “All of the women who work in the department store have something against him. Cridder always tells offensive jokes, makes obscene invitations...”

  “No one did anything about it...like filing a complaint? If all they did that, it would be difficult for the cops not to believe them.”

  Carmen gave me an exasperated look.

  “With respect to Simon Cridder, they don’t get involved,” she sai
d. “You don’t know Cridder, who his friends are, who he knows. It’s better for you to just stay clear or him and always be on alert. We’re subjected to this kind of situation everywhere, so stay alert and don’t let yourself get into precarious situations.

  Is she serious? It’s the 21st century and women still believe this? We didn’t have to allow ourselves to be treated with disrespect. I’d read several articles on the Internet about the struggle to change the status of women around the globe since the time of the suffragettes, but it was obvious that the benefits of these changes didn’t reach all social dimensions. Women continued to be assaulted and threatened, and for those who live alone, it seemed even harder for them to be taken seriously.

  I kidded Carmen, asking if Cridder was part of the Mafia and that was why so many people were afraid of him. She didn’t laugh my joke as I expected. “Something like that...” was the answer she gave me.

  Game over. In view of this, I thought it would best to follow her original advice: Don’t give bad luck a chance.

  Once inside her apartment, I forgot Simon Cridder. I was too tired to think about anything. We prepared a quick dinner—noodles with cheese. Carmen turned up the TV so we could listen to the news from the kitchen, but I was too tired to process any information!

  While I was cutting tomatoes for our salad, I felt my arms stiffen up, making me wonder if they’d return to normal in time for work the next day. I never imagined that cleaning bathrooms required so much physical effort. It was far worse than mowing lawns or taking lazy dogs for walks.

  If I were philosophizing about it, I think the worst part of my job was getting the tile shiny and clean, only to have a customer come in five minutes later and destroy all my work in less than five seconds and then having to start over again. Ugh!

  “...the rangers are on the hunt for a giant cat seen in the vicinity by joggers,” the reporter was saying. “The locals are terrified and no one wants visit the park while the animal is on the loose. Several witnesses reported hearing deafening roars around midnight...”