Unfinished Muse

by R. L. Naquin

  Rock bottom. Every one of us.

  After an hour or so in the harnesses, right about when I realized I’d probably be saddle sore on top of everything else, Mrs. Moros hit a button and lowered us all to the floor.

  “Go home.” She moved through the class, unbuckling each of us. “Take some ibuprofen, a hot shower, and maybe ice the places that hurt the most. Get some sleep. Don’t come back until Friday.”

  We glanced at each other in surprise, making sure everyone had heard the same thing.

  Someone in the back of the crowd squeaked out the question we all wanted to ask. “We have tomorrow off?”

  She gave a curt nod. “Tomorrow the placement team will go over your test scores and evaluations. Friday morning you’ll receive your assignments and be taken to your new departments.”

  “Unless we washed out,” Hal whispered.

  Mrs. Moros snapped her head around to glare at him. “No one washes out in my orientation class. Some assignments are simply more desirable than others.” She spread her gaze over all of us. “If you think you’re leaving the company now, you’ll have to think again. I suggest if any of you are unsure of this, you spend your day off reading your copy of the contract you signed.” Her words were clipped. “Nine on Friday.” She turned and strode from the gym, leaving us all to wonder what the hell we’d signed.

  ~*~

  I slept late on Thursday and woke up so stiff it took me ten minutes to achieve an upright position. After I grabbed some yogurt and made coffee, I sat down to examine the contract.

  I hadn’t read it. I freely admit I’d been stupid about that. But to be fair, I’d been scared to death of the gorgon who’d given it to me, and my houseplant had told me to do it.

  Not an argument that would hold up in court, though. I was probably screwed.

  The contract wasn’t huge, so it didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. In essence, I’d signed a three-year contract which gave them access to my bank account, credit cards, phone records, financial statements—everything. As long as I worked for the agency for the next three years, money would be deposited in my account. If I tried to break the contract, they’d take everything I had, including my car title and the lease to my apartment. I’d have nothing and have nowhere to live.

  Harsh.

  I scrubbed my face in my hands. Too late to do anything about it now. I gathered my spoon and empty yogurt container and took it to the kitchen, tossing a nasty look at Phyllis on my way past.

  She’d been refreshingly quiet since I’d asked her about the contract on our way home the night before.

  I tossed the container in the trash, rinsed the spoon, and set it in the sink. The kitchen was dark, so I pulled the curtain aside to let in some light. Movement caught my eye, and I peered into the courtyard.

  That guy—Mitch? Mark?—stood outside his apartment with a bottle of window cleaner and paper towels. I leaned against the sink and watched his muscles flex as he scrubbed at a stubborn spot on the glass of his back door. Did he always wear shirts that tight? Why hadn’t I noticed him before?

  Something made him turn and look at my window, and I froze. He waved his wad of paper towels at me and smiled. Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed the sponge in the sink and waved it back at him.

  That’s right. Standing here doing dishes. Not staring at rippling muscles. Nope. Just doing a little cleaning of my own.

  The smile on my face felt strained. I hoped it looked genuine from across the courtyard and not like I’d swallowed a bug.

  He turned back to his work, and I ducked out of the window before he could catch me watching again.

  Honestly, he wasn’t my type. First of all, I preferred blonds with power haircuts. His hair was a dark chestnut that fell over his eyes when he leaned over. I liked suits and ties, not jeans and tight T-shirts. Blue eyes, not dark chocolate.

  I shrugged. Besides. I’d only broken up with Freddy less than a week before. I had enough problems without adding a guy into the whole thing. Especially not one that lived across the courtyard. They have a phrase for that: don’t shit where you eat.

  My relationship status needed to remain single for a little while before I made another spectacular mess of things.

  I glanced at my phone sitting on the kitchen counter. No messages. No missed calls. Freddy had continued leaving voicemail, sending alternating angry and sad texts, and even pictures of himself with his dog. I’d kept to the one-week rule, but it hadn’t been easy. I felt terrible, but honestly, I’d told him I wouldn’t answer him. He simply hadn’t believed me.

  Now it was one day before the week was over, and he’d finally gotten the message.

  I rubbed the front of my phone with the hem of my shirt, smoothing out the smudges and fingerprints. A tiny twinge of regret hit me, and I brushed it aside. Freddy wasn’t The One. And even if there was no such thing as The One, Freddy still wasn’t someone I could be happy with long-term.

  I sighed and slid my phone in my pocket. Maybe he’d given up and wouldn’t start calling again. Maybe he’d gotten the message finally.

  The rest of the day I moved slowly. I caught up on laundry, soaked my aching muscles in the tub, and even ventured out to buy groceries to fill my refrigerator and cupboards.

  I’d set Phyllis in the kitchen window to get some sun while I was gone. When I came inside, plastic bags cutting off the circulation in the fingers of both hands, Phyllis curled and uncurled her leaves as if I’d woken her from a nap and she was stretching.

  Her greenery brushed together, making a soft shushing. “That was quick. Did you get anything healthy this time?”

  I winced as I lifted my sore arms to put the bags on the counter. “I bought vegetables, among other things. I’m making progress.”

  “It’s a start.” Phyllis sniffed, which was a weird sound, coming from a plant. “You’re not doing the planet any favors with those plastic bags, though.”

  I scowled and shoved a package of powdered sugar donuts in the cupboard. “If you’re so worried about it, help me out. Remind me to take the reusable bags with me instead of leaving them on the table. Again.”

  She was quiet while I put milk and carrots in the fridge, but I saw her twitch a branch when the package of cookies came out of the bag. Eggs and a brick of cheddar cheese were fine, I supposed, but the ice cream seemed to be the last straw.

  Phyllis groaned. “Honestly, Wynter. One bag of carrots doesn’t mean you bought healthy food.”

  I ignored her and put away the rest of the groceries. “Now that you can tell me what you need, do you need anything? Fertilizer? More water? I felt terrible when Mom replanted you. Why didn’t you tell me you were crowded in that old pot?”

  Several leaves rose and fell in what I thought must be a shrug. “You’d figure it out eventually. We’ve been together for two years. You never leave me uncomfortable for long.”

  I didn’t feel like I deserved her gracious attitude. I’d ignored too many things lately. “Well, make sure you tell me next time, okay? Now that you can talk, it should be for more than sea shanties and television theme songs.”

  “I don’t see why you can’t appreciate my musical gifts, Wynter. I’ll have you know, I once trained with—”

  She stopped so suddenly, I moved toward her and looked out the window to see what had stolen her attention.

  Mark or Mack or whatever his name was, stood in the courtyard with his shirt off this time, spray painting a stack of old tires.

  I slid Phyllis to one side of the windowsill to get a better look. “What the hell is he doing now?”

  The plant spoke in a whisper next to my ear. “Do you suppose he’s suffering from a brain injury?”

  I didn’t answer as I pressed my face closer to the glass. His muscles flexed when he stopped to shake the can. He turned and looked right at me, and I ducked under the cabinet.

  “Well, now you’ve done it,” Phyllis said, chuckling. “Now he’ll think you’re interested.”

/>   I groaned and covered my face. I’d just broken up with my boyfriend, started a new job, and found out the world was a much different place than what I’d always believed it to be. Getting cozy with the half-naked neighbor next door was not on the agenda. That was the last thing I needed.

  In fact, all things considered, I probably needed to stay off the dating circuit.

  Possibly for good.

  Chapter 6

  Friday morning my muscles ached worse than they had the day before. I sat in the same room we’d started in on Monday, in the same chair in the front row, and tried like hell not to squirm. If I could make it through the day without pissing off Mrs. Moros, I could say I survived boot camp.

  We’d all arrived early, and Moros wasn’t there yet. I turned in my seat and checked on my lunch buddies. Jilly had her hands in her lap, one hand clutching the other as if she was afraid they might fly away. Her normally cheerful face was sober. When she caught me looking at her, she forced a wan smile.

  A few people over from her, Elmore sat slouched in his chair, arms folded, and one agitated foot jiggling over the opposite knee. He shrugged at me and jiggled faster.

  Poor Hal looked defeated. He sat at the other end of the front row, shoulders sagging. He stared at a piece of carpet a few feet in front of him without looking up.

  I frowned and faced front, wincing at my sore muscles. Was the job assignment thing that serious? Sure, I’d be stuck with it for the next three years, but it wasn’t as if my entire life depended on where they sent me. Seriously. A job was a job—not that I’d ever lasted at a single job for three consecutive years. The longest I’d stayed in one position was four months at as a grocery clerk, and that was because I’d been dating my manager.

  Everyone was acting like we were waiting to find out which ones of us would be chained to a rock and sacrificed to the Kraken.

  I smirked. Good thing I wasn’t a virgin. I’d make a lousy maiden sacrifice.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Wynter.” Mrs. Moros swooped into the room in time to humiliate me with her mind-reading mojo. “The Kraken is a pescetarian. He gave up maidens centuries ago. They made him gassy.” She eyed me up and down over her rhinestone-encrusted glasses. “The purity of his meals was never an issue, though. So, your reckless lifestyle wouldn’t have kept you safe, I’m afraid.”

  I slunk down in my chair and tried hard not to think anything else she could embarrass me with. I stared at the wall behind her and concentrated on pink elephants in tutus until her attention went elsewhere.

  Mrs. Moros pursed her lips and graced the entire room with a sweeping scowl. “As the rest of you know, this day is going to affect your lives in ways you can’t even guess at. I won’t leave you in suspense. In a few moments, a human resources representative will bring us your assignments.”

  All around me were sharp intakes of breath and nervous shuffling. When I’d woken up this morning, I’d been more relieved to be done with orientation and testing. Now, thanks to the tension in the room, I realized I should have been more focused on where I was going next. My stomach clenched with the anxiety everyone else had already been feeling.

  Better late than never.

  Moros picked a piece of lint off the arm of her lime-green jogging suit and cleared her throat. “Ah. Ben. Come in.”

  A good-looking guy with dark hair and a pleasant smile stepped into the room with an armful of manila envelopes. “I’m sure everyone’s been waiting for these all week.”

  A nervous twitter came from the small crowd.

  Ben stood beside Moros. “Since I don’t know any of you yet, I’ll call out your names, and you can come grab your envelope. Feel free to open it up when you get back to your seat. I know how much you want to know where you’re going.”

  The very first name Ben called was Hal’s. Poor Hal sat frozen in his seat, eyes wide. After a moment, it was clear he wasn’t going to respond. Moros elbowed Ben and lifted her chin toward Hal so Ben could walk the four steps over and deliver it himself.

  Hal took the envelope with a shaking hand. He lifted the flap and pulled the paperwork out, his face a neutral mask. Once he’d read the top of the first page, he gave a single nod, slipped the paperwork back into the envelope, and sat staring at the wall with that same neutral expression.

  I couldn’t tell if he was relieved or about to face his death. He was unreadable.

  The rest of the assignments went out quickly after that, and squeals of excitement mingled with groans of disappointment.

  Elmore opened his envelope and let out a lungful of air. He grinned at me.

  Jilly looked shocked, though not exactly unhappy, either.

  Ben got to the bottom of the pile. “Wynter Greene?” He smiled as I took the package from him. “All right. Well, that’s the last one. I’m sure you’ll want a few minutes to look over your pack and talk to each other. Make sure you exchange information if you’ve made friends, since you’re all going to different departments.”

  I took a deep breath, then pulled the papers from the envelope.

  Congratulations! You’ve been chosen to join the Muse department.

  I couldn’t read the rest. A big yellow sticky note covered it. There was a handwritten message on the note.

  Please see human resources immediately.

  Was I in trouble?

  I shoved everything back in its envelope and glanced around. Elmore and Jilly stood with Hal, patting him on the back and giving him brave smiles. I hurried over and joined them.

  Jilly gave me a more cheerful smile than the one she’d been giving Hal. “What department did you get? I’m going to the Furies.”

  The Furies? They dealt in justice and revenge. Jillian Bean was the sweetest, perkiest person I knew. Why would they assign her to such a harsh job?

  “Looks like I’m going to be a Muse.” I turned to Elmore. “You seemed okay with yours. What’d you get?”

  “Courier Service.” He shrugged. “I have no idea what that means, but it sounds good to me.”

  Jilly elbowed me in the ribs and lifted her chin toward Hal. He hadn’t moved from his seat and continued to stare at a section of the carpet, as if it might move if he looked away.

  I squatted in front of him, making him look at me instead of the floor. “Hey. What’s in your envelope? It can’t be that bad, Hal. Moros said we can’t wash out.”

  His tired blue eyes looked defeated. “She said that, sure. But I’m being transferred to the Underworld. I washed out, whether she wants to admit it or not.”

  I swallowed hard. I’d had no idea Hal had been having so much trouble. I knew most of the physical stuff had been rough on him. But he must’ve been pretty dismal on the written and psychological tests, too. Then again, who knew what criteria the people in charge here used? It was all a big fat mystery.

  “Did it at least say what you’ll be doing there? Maybe it’s not so bad.”

  He shook his head. “I didn’t read past the word Underworld. I don’t think it matters.”

  I tugged lightly at the envelope under his palms. “Can I take a look?”

  He handed it over without a response.

  The paperwork inside was different from mine. Instead of the Mt. Olympus Employment Agency logo of a snow-capped mountain, Hal’s stuff bore a flaming gate and the words Underworld LLC across the top.

  The Orientation and Training team have thoroughly evaluated your qualities and skills and have determined you are a better match for our Underworld offices.

  I supposed if I’d read that as the opening line, I might have been freaked, too. Poor Hal. I scanned farther down the page.

  …and are pleased to welcome you to the Department of Welcome and Transportation, where you will be assigned the position of Ferryman.

  I smiled. “Hal, this is actually pretty cool. I think you need to read the rest of it. I think you’ll be happier than you thought.”

  Hal’s hand shook as he took the paper from me and read the rest of the letter. He bli
nked. “I don’t understand.”

  Jilly frowned at me. “What is it?”

  I tried to show excitement so Hal would get that he hadn’t washed out. “He’s going to be the cool dude in the cowl who rows people across the river for a silver coin.”

  Elmore’s eyebrows rose. “Dude, I would so love that job.”

  It occurred to me that Elmore would probably love any job they assigned him. How a guy like that could have hit rock bottom to end up in this place was beyond me. Then again, I couldn’t imagine how Jilly had ended up there, either.

  Hal, I could believe, though. And myself. I’d been on a rock-bottom trajectory for years. The only surprise was that it had taken me so long to finally hit it.

  Hal sighed and slid his letter back in its envelope. “I guess that’s not so bad. I probably won’t see a lot of you guys after this, though.” He lifted his head and sat straighter in his chair, his attitude one of a brave man off to be executed. “Anybody got a pen? We’d better exchange numbers now.”

  ~*~

  The staff gave us about a half hour to say our goodbyes, take a bathroom break, or whatever we needed to do. While we were busy putting numbers in each other’s phones, the back of the room filled up with people who chatted while they waited for us to finish.

  Moros went to the front one last time, her rough voice louder than all the conversations going on in the room combined. “Time’s up! Everybody move to the back and find the person holding the sign for your new department. Pleasure working with you and all that. Good luck, and try not to screw up.” She stepped aside and waved her hand to indicate the back of the room.

  The new people lined up, each holding a small sign with departments printed in neat letters. Cupid. Courier Service. Human Resources. Furies. On the very end of the long line, a man held up a sign that said Underworld. Several people had already joined him. Hal gave us each a quick hug and wandered over.

  Jilly and Elmore joined their representatives and left the room with them. The Underworld guy was the only one who had multiples, I supposed because he represented an entire company, not the individual departments. They all left together in a pack.