Doc-U-Ment

I’ve got a plan. 

He wrote this sentence down in his journal. Then he walked through his house to the outside world (but not before kissing his wife goodbye). You see, this guy was unusual. He was not a person but rather you could say kind of like a wooden scarecrow.     

He had a huge tuft of ebony hair piled onto his head like a head of broccoli. His hair covered his eyes, so no one knew how he knew where he was going, or whether he saw anything or anyone coming his way. He wore a thick scarf (for it was Fall, the auburn, orange and yellow leaves falling pitifully to the ground, as if the tree itself was crying). He also wore a cotton jacket, buttoned of course. But today, he was going to work. Just across the walkway on the road in front of his house, a few blocks down the sidewalk and then up a flight of many white stairs.

That was Giraffe. He said goodbye to his wife, Tufts, and then hopped out the door, shut it and off he went. Everything was there at the office: his briefcase, lunchbox and shoes. He just headed outside, ignoring the cold wind, because he did not shiver. He merely folded his arms into himself, refusing to even have his teeth chatter.

Giraffe hopped along, and then Tufts called from the office that mid-morning. “Honey, you need food. I made you a grilled cheese sandwich. Come and get it!”

“No. I’m not hungry.”

“Honey—you’re always keeping your stuff at the office. Please—for once, listen to me.”

“I’m fine—”

“Fine!” The slam of the receiver emitted a sigh from Giraffe’s mouth. Shaking his head, he stood up straight and continued with that document so coveted by his boss, Mr. Dandy Lion. This man was a plank of wood, too, for he had grey sideburns frozen in place like they had been stopped from racing down the sides of his head. His frown of a mustache seemed to have replaced his mouth, for Giraffe and the others never saw the lips go up or down. Just the mustache stayed there, like it was his feeling: disappointment.

Get it together, Giraffe! Not paying you to sit around. Hurry up, Colleen. Where’s my coffee? Hey, Bert—sleeping on the job again? Well, you’re not going to go to bed tonight. So wake up! That document got thrown away, Pete. Better start again!

On and on it went. The growling, the bitterness, the relentless complaining sat on Giraffe’s shoulders like an angel and a devil on either side. Actually, they were three devils because the third sat right in front of him, jabbing a claw at him, reminding him he’d be here at this depressingly boring and frustrating deadweight of a job forever.

”No promotions, no quitting and no weekends.” It cackled, its V-shaped pupiled eyes locked onto his own blinking ones. “Or vacations, or anything. You loser! How can you even call yourself an employee?”

“Giraffe!”

Giraffe jumped, his coffee jumping as well. “Where’s that report? Recycle bin’s lunch?”

“No, no, sir. Just—here!” Giraffe fumbled, his coffee held spectacularly in a hand. The boss saw the feat but said nothing. Giraffe produced the copies and then watched, wilting, as the boss spoke under his moustache about the documents. A smack of papers against an apricot wooden desk and then a yell.

“Giraffe, get in here!”

A sigh from Giraffe was going to be the last sound he made here at Papers Forever. Because just as those papers had been stolen from this world of trees, Mr. Dandy Lion had stolen Giraffe’s life from under him. Right under his feet. The carpet had been ripped from right under his feet. Poor Giraffe!

He entered his boss’s office.

“Sir?” A timid blink of the eyes. At least he looked at his boss in the eyes. Anything else would cost him his very soul.

“Giraffe, papers are…” Mr. Dandy Lion inhaled.

Giraffe pursed his lips, blinking fast.

“Are…”

Giraffe’s blinking stopped. If he had a heart, it’d have pounded right in his ears, if he had them, too.

“Good.”

Mr. Dandy Lion looked at Giraffe. Giraffe stared straight back at him. Regaining his composure, Giraffe said, “Sir? You—”

“Need to get back to work. Now!”

So much for happiness! Restraining himself so as not to be here all night writing poor documents that will just choke the recycling bin’s gaping mouth, Giraffe sucked in a huge breath he hoped would save the day this time and, with a polite nod, walked back to his home of a desk. Opening his computer’s programs, he got to work. The devils returned.

Mr. Dandy Lion isn’t so happy. He will be if you work for him. Employees do a great job serving others. He’ll wear a bright smile one day. Renovate this place, make it new. Your boss will thank you. How about it? You’re a hardworking soul. Persistence pays off.

Yeah, yeah! One devil chanted.

Giraffe nodded quickly, and then paid even more attention to his work. Mr. Dandy Lion will thank me. He’ll see. He’ll know I’m here. I’m not just a piece of wood stuck in a cubicle until I die. No tears from me. Just some fabulous documents to put on his soon-to-be amazing office desk.

The devils giggled, and vanished.

Giraffe worked.

And worked.

And worked.

He looked at the clock. 4:45 pm.

Tufts did not call. He asked his boss whether he could go across the street to buy some dinner. Mr. Dandy Lion grunted. Giraffe took that to mean yes. So he did. Basking in the luxuriousness of five minute he had to get from the hot dog stand, ice cream stand and lemonade stand to his boss’s office with papers in hand, Giraffe took a little longer. That man needs some yellow sunshine. He took his items after paying and then went back to the boringly depressing office life.

Back to hell.

Maybe… he sipped on his lemonade. Maybe I can do something. Change this suffocating atmosphere. Pinching his face together in thought, he quietly united all the other coworkers together.

“Hey-what do you think of sprucing this place up? A little splash of pink, a hint of coral blue and a drop of lime green will go great with my collection of daisies!”

“Daisies need sunshine.”

Giraffe swiveled around to the blinds, drinking in the vision of life he desired from the very beginning. Forty-five years ago. Only three more years….

His teeth felt they’d rot out of his head if he ever gave another merciful thought towards this dump fire of a place again. Maybe they would. Then he wouldn’t have to speak only to get talked back to. He’d be free! But no. Giraffe was smart.

Over the weekend, Giraffe skipped the Saturday brunch with his wife to decorate the building that was his office. Painting rouge and opening the blinds and renovating the whole office took days, months and even a year. By Christmas the following year, Giraffe proudly surveyed the new area. Daisies soaked in the sun outside. Mahogany and oak desks complemented the wooden floors. A paper shredder, white shelves, drawers and closets all boasted of neatly organization of office supplies. Excitement reigned here!

Mr. Dandy Lion stopped dead upon entering such a marvelously new area. Giraffe went right up to him. “Sir? Do you like it?”

Mr. Dandy Lion gave one glance and then froze again when he saw his office. Nothing new about that area. He shook his head and then slammed the door. Everyone went to work, typing and copy machining drowning such vitality. Killing it—

No! Giraffe was perseverant. He didn’t let Mr. Dandy Lion’s sourness suck the joy out of the new office. He worked hard for this place. He wasn’t going to waste it. The next weekend, his wife asked him whether he’d be around for coffee in the morning and whether he’d like to go to the library—

“No, I need to go to the office. Spruce things up for Mr. Dandy Lion.”

“But—”

“He needs a smile on his face!”

“Mr. Dandy Lion is your boss. He’ll never show anything but a frowning mustache!”

“And he will show a smile for once in his life when I’m done showing him what life really is!”

“And when will that be?”

“Maybe when he pulls the shades up on his window.”

“Sure.” A tight response. Tufts snarled, “Have fun working!”

Giraffe looked at his wife. She really wanted to be with him. But I need to show him. He’s not happy. Giraffe told his wife goodbye and headed out the door. When he had dusted, repainted and sanded everything, Giraffe, coughing and drinking his fifth water bottle, stood back, admiring the whole office.

He’ll love it!

The next week, Mr. Dandy Lion didn’t say anything to Giraffe. Giraffe stormed into Mr. Dandy Lion’s open office.

“I slave for you. I work all weekend to renovate for you. I do everything right. I—”

Mr. Dandy Lion looked up but said nothing. He signaled for Giraffe to return to his desk. Giraffe did, but pretended to work. Soon, Mr. Dandy Lion came by.

“Working?”

“Yes.” The answer slid out through gritted teeth the way paper goes through a shredding machine.

“Good.”

Giraffe arrived, exhausted, that night. Tufts was asleep. The next year, she didn’t say anything to him. She only held up some documents. “Here—work on these while I go shopping with my girlfriends.” She headed out the door, slamming it.

Giraffe blinked and then looked at the documents. He took a deep breath and reviewed them, and then recalled his wife’s cry. She sounded like she was on the verge of tears. If she cried, her woodenness would be ruined. Giraffe dashed out the door. He cried for her to come back. But she was gone presumably to the mall.

Giraffe hurried to the mall. He looked and looked, but she was not there. He hurried to the library, but no Tufts showed up. He hurried to the coffee shop, the barber’s, the hot dog stand where they always ate hot dogs earlier in their marriage and then the park. There, on the bench, Tufts ate ice cream.

“Tufts, honey!”

She looked up, a smear of ice cream on her face. She didn’t answer but continued eating. “Tufts, I’m sorry.”

She got up, held the ice cream out and hugged him. Nodding her head, she walked away. Giraffe went home, shredded the document and stayed home that night with his wife. Suddenly, when watching the news, Giraffe stared in utter horror when he saw his company’s building blown to smithereens. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t think.

Tuft’s shocked voice sounded distant. “Honey. You okay?”

A bomber was loose in the area. Giraffe finally blinked and said, “Yes?” It was automatic.

“What is going to happen?”

“I’ll…I’ll…” Giraffe studied his father’s detective files that night. Pursing his lips, he wondered what his wife would say to him becoming a cop. She wouldn’t want that, not in a million years. Me sticking my face in cold hard cases. Not that I haven’t married work already.

Giraffe did his best to love his wife over the years, but Christmas and the New Year’s slogged by. His feet felt weighed down by, well, weights. Giraffe, depressed, went to his wife. Taking a deep breath, Giraffe opened his mouth, but Tufts looked up at him. “Yes?”

“I thought of moving. Moving to a small town.”

The wife was quiet. Soon, they made the move. Tufts hated it. They moved again. Tufts enjoyed the beach. The beach is where they stayed, Tufts working this time. Soon, Giraffe told Tufts he had heard the office building that had been blown up had been renovated. No one was hurt, but Mr. Dandy Lion hired some more people.

“Yeah.”

“Do you miss it?”

Giraffe pursed his lips. “I miss the renovation I worked so hard to please Mr. Dandy Lion with.” He sighed. "Guess that was all for nothing.”

“No—” Tufts shook her head. “It wasn’t.”

No. It wasn’t. Giraffe lay in bed that night, mulling over Tuft’s words. He got up—

No. I’ll go to sleep. His eyes closed, and stayed closed, until the morning. His wife kissed him goodbye and headed to work. He shook his head. She’s so loyal. I…

Interior designing was the conversation that night after work during dinner. Giraffe, excited about the prospect, announced he’d be an interior designer. He’d include his wife. He’d renovate. With her.

Tufts thought about it, saying she didn’t want to leave her job. No, he concluded, I’d show you all the work on the weekends. No, she finalized. I want to be with you. Don’t you want to do things I like, too? Stop being so selfish!

“You don’t have a Mr. Dandy Lion to please anymore!” She yelled at Giraffe one day. “So stop trying to convince me.” She headed out, not including him. The years came and went, but Tufts started saying that Giraffe longed to sit with her at night and watch the news. She agreed to that, but then grew bored with the things Giraffe did. The board games grew dust, the walks grew shorter and the conversations got staler. Soon, Tufts announced she was separating from Giraffe. Giraffe’s eyes sparkled with tears.

“I’ll be ruined!” He put his hands to his face. “No. N—”

“Why are you saying no to me, when you’ve all this time to spend with your wife? Your wife is not work. It’s—she’s—me. Okay? I’ve asked you whether you want to go do things. I’ve thought of you. Why do you have to go and blow it all up?” She whimpered. “Why? I thought you were happy when it came to renovating the office life you loved. But no, that’s not enough. You need to go and forsake all. And for what? We’ll never get that time back. We’ll never do those things together. We’ll never be together, because you pushed me out of this house, out of our marriage and out of our love. Okay?” She slapped the separation papers at him, hitting him and maybe giving him a cut in the eye. “Okay? Here are some documents. Why don’t you go to your boss and tell him you’ve solved the problem. He’ll put a smile on that grouchy face of his. He’ll be happy. And you’ll be happy. You don’t need the sun! You have your boss’s smile.”

“I…” Giraffe told a fist-clenching wife he really wanted to join her. “Look, I’m sorry. I just really needed to fix my work life. Besides, I worked in an extremely boring office. Nothing happened. We’d get Christmas, Thanksgiving, Fourth of July and Labor Day. That’s it. And to top it off, we’d have to go in some Saturdays to make up for the lack of joy that is Mr. Dandy Lion. He’s the real reason why we’ve sold our souls to this inferno of a workplace. You think I want to work here? I can barely get a lunch break. I’m always keeping my stuff there because the lunchbox reminds of us. I have our picture up on that thing. You don’t think I want to come home to a beautifully cooked meal and get into clean, warm sheets every night?” His tone was genuine, she could tell. But she still doubted him.

“I just… I want to be happy. I work. And when I work, I am happy. It’s part of my life. It’s not really my fault. I have to. I can’t just quit. I’ll look for another job, but the other office jobs are just the same—beige walls backed by a whitewashed breakroom. The ceiling is the same—a fan here and ceiling lights there surrounded by squares of grey. It’s stupid. I don’t know…”

“You should!” The heat was still there. Giraffe hugged himself, gulping. Now his wife was onto him. Not just Mr. Dandy Lion.

But he had no excuse. When could he stand up for himself? When he went to Mr. Dandy Lion to try to open his eyes up to the world around him instead of tell him to give his exhausted, braindead employees a break for once. A two-week vacation. A week of paid leave. A holiday that expanded a week after the only day they got off—which was an office party with lame decorations and stuffy breakroom. Something like that.

He thought and then—

“You know what? I’ll tell Mr. Dandy Lion this. That we can live and work at the same time. All work and no vacation makes for a dull plank of wood. Just because I work all day and some nights doesn’t mean I need to accept it all the time. Mr. Dandy Lion—”

“Whatever!”

“Please give me a chance—”

“Like when I did those times I went shopping and other things?! Huh?!”

Giraffe let Tufts blow him down. He held in his tears. He didn’t succumb to dying. They would be together.

Giraffe asked Tufts whether they’d like to go to the coffee shop, on the boardwalk, on the beach, in the ocean and through a haunted house later that October. I have all these plans. And it’s going to be for her.

They went. And they enjoyed. Giraffe worked in an office, renovating a depressingly, boringly bleak office again. Mr. Sun Shine didn’t say anything.

Giraffe knew Tufts did. One Sunday, she marveled.

“Wow! You do have a plan.”

“Yep. Thanks for the smile, honey.”

Tufts grinned, bobbing her head.

The three devils vanished, their scarlet smoke left behind and then fading away, disappearing.