Clock Out

Ten! Ten minutes till clock out.

A muffled robot voice barked out of the intercom. I turned away from the squared bulbous computer screen and rubbed my tired eyes. Is it time for clock out already? I thought to myself. I sighed, glancing up at the digits on the wall to confirm it to be so. These shifts seem to be going quicker and quicker… I glanced at the messy pile of folders and files on my desk. And yet, the work keeps growing and growing. I glanced around the vinyl-wood walls of my cubicle, covered in faded charts and yellowed Company posters reminding me to “Keep up the good work for the greater good!“ Among them was a small, worn-out black and white picture of a sunny beach. A woman stood in a striped one-piece swimsuit. I briefly put a finger to the photo. One day, I thought. Hopefully soon. Perhaps, its just me slowing down and getting older. Another day, another week, another year… It would be good to take a break.

I paused, folder in hand, as I pondered this thought. How many shifts had it been now? One hundred? Five hundred? A thousand? Ten thousand? The work with the Company was so monotonous. And while the content and context of the files was always unique, the huge daily quantity of it all blurred together into a mess of numbers, probabilities, and equations.

I sighed, and opened the firm Manila folder in my hands. This one was filled with spreadsheets on profits and losses for the Company. I scanned them with a keen yet tired eye, making sure that everything was in order. I rubbed a hand over the graying stubble of my chin. I had done this thousands of times before, the monotony and familiarity creating a trance-like state of deep thought and meditation. I knew I could work and think at the same time, but the Company would disagree. I sighed, stretching back as I got back to work.

Nine! Nine minutes till clock out.

I put the file through my typewriter, marking it to confirm its contents were correct. Then I pulled over the long scanner arm and uploaded a copy of the paper to the Company’s mainframe. The scanner made a loud pop as it took a photo of the page. I lined the scanner up for the next pages. Pop!

Pop!

Pop!

Once done, I shredded the papers and grabbed another folder to continue my work. This one contained information confirming the Company’s annexation of New York City. It amazed me that the Company had grown so much to be able to claim such a large city, but it was to be expected. Especially after their acquisitions from the past year buying up smaller, poorer countries all around globe. Maybe they can buy something pleasant like a beach for the Company vacation…

Five! Five minutes till clock out.

I finished skimming the folder, and started to file this one away as well when I heard a loud curse from the cubby over. I paused as the scanner went pop, and was about to continue my work when I heard a muffled avalanche of paper falling onto the floor, followed by another more colorful curse.

I sighed, the worn brown-leather seat squeaking as I got up to see what was the matter. It’s probably a new hire. Figuring things out for the first time. Overwhelmed by all the work, I thought. I looked up at the glowing digits on the wall.

Four! Four minutes till clock out.

As I rounded the corner of the cubby my eyes glanced down on a younger woman in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. She was wearing a plaid work skirt, similar in design to my own plaid suit and tie. Her hair was up in a tight bun. She was hunched over her stack of files that were now a pile of files all over the bristly lava-red-orange carpet of the Company.

As I approached, I heard her crying softly. I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I mostly kept to myself at the Company, and was awkward around others. Especially around their emotions. Work was my time to think, to be drawn into the trance. My time alone. It was the one consistency in my life. A predictability. I looked around the dark, faux-wood walls of her cubicle. They were bare. On her desk, was something amazing. A small, color picture of a smiling family. A mother, father, and son. Was he two, maybe three years old? Still, a picture with color! How did that work? Technology, these days, I thought to myself.

As I turned to leave, the woman looked up. “Who’s there?” she said in an anxious tone. She took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and said more firmly, “Who’s there?”

I sighed to myself, and headed back to her. I reached down and held out a hand, which she hesitantly grabbed as I helped her up.

“The name’s George.” I said, before plastering a smile on my face. “I- uh, I work in the cubicle over. Just over there.” I motioned with a thumb behind me.

"I'm... I'm Peggy."

I met her eyes awkwardly for a few seconds, and then hurriedly bent over to pick up the mess of papers on the floor. She did the same, and our heads collided. I fell backwards with a huff. A pain flashed in my forehead as she hurried over.

“Ow,” I said.

“I’m so sorry! I just-”

Three minutes! Three minutes till clock out.

“It’s fine,” I said a little too tersely. I pushed myself up, my knees popping loudly in protest. As I started to turn back to the papers on the floor, I noticed the woman turning her head up to the intercom on the wall.

“That voice…” she started, before trailing off.

“Hmm?” I glanced at the intercom, too. “Oh that. It’s just announcing that today’s clock out is approaching.” As I was grabbing the files, I noticed that - luckily - nothing was too out of order. Most of the files were in their correct folders, and alphabetized, with only a few stray papers that needed to be sorted. This would be an easy, quick fix. I should be able to finish a few more of my own folders before-

I paused, realizing that the woman was still frozen in place, staring at the intercom.

“Clock out?” she said, confused.

I looked at her oddly. “Yeah,” I said. “Clock out. It’s when we’re done for the day, you know?”

“I,” she started, putting a hand to her head. “I just have a funny feeling. Like I’ve done this before. A sense of deja vu, or… something.”

Ah, I understood. So she was a new hire. I shuffled through the papers, organizing them as I replied “Yeah, I know what you mean. That feeling’ll pass soon enough. It’s what your second, third week?”

“Its my second day.” she said quickly, her hand still on her head.

“Your second? The Company already put you on the 76th floor on your second day?” I whistled softly. “That’s an accomplishment, for sure. It took me…” I trailed off as I thought about it. How many years had I been with the Company now? One, two, five? Maybe more? I sighed. “Well, it all blends together, really.”

Two! Two minutes to clock out.

It was quiet for a moment. I forgot about the woman, my thoughts flicking between the papers I was sorting.

The woman spoke.

“What happens at clock out?” she whispered.

“Hmm?” I murmured, not really paying attention. I briefly wondered if she could tell.

“Clock out. What happens at clock out?”

I finished sorting the fallen files, and handed them back to her. She took them hesitantly. “Our day ends,” I said. “And then we come back tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.”

“What about your family?” she whispered suddenly. “Do you have anyone waiting for you at home?” She glanced to the picture frame on her desk. I could see the confusion in her eyes. I paused.

One minute! One minutes to clock out.

I thought hard on that. Was there someone at home? A family… a wife? Maybe? My head ached. I must have hit it pretty hard in the collision.

“Maybe… Maybe at one point I had a wife. I’m not sure.” I started to head back to my cubicle, but paused by the opening and turned around. “Though it’s hard to remember. It’s been a long day.”

I looked toward the woman, but she didn’t seem to be listening. She was still staring at the picture on her  desk. She had tears in her eyes again. Were there more than before?

I raised my eyebrows at her, waiting for a response, and then sighed and turned to go. As I headed back to my cubicle I heard her whispering something over and over under her breath, as if she were trying to remember something.

I sat down and looked at the clock. If I went quickly, maybe I could finish one more paper before clock out.