A winter carol

‘Hi Mark, sorry, just got your message. There was something wrong with my computer. Did you want to talk to me?’

Words didn’t come easily struggling to leave Robert`s dry lips. He quickly ran his tongue over them hoping it didn’t make him look even more nervous. Mark glanced at him – Robert`s tall figure weirdly tip toeing in the doorway - and waved a hand impatiently asking him in. Mark was on the phone. Robert quietly stepped inside and closed the door behind him trying not to make a sound.

Talking to the boss always made him feel uneasy. He found it hard to be on par with all the younger employees in the company. He couldn’t call his job extremely demanding and tasks complicated, but the effortless grace of his coworkers shut down his brain. While he finished one table they would be hopping onto the third. They used slang he didn’t understand and drank their coffee with plant milk. Vegan lunches were the worst – retreats, spirituality, conscious consumerism mixed altogether with cancel culture and the latest gossip left him feeling alienated. He could argue referencing Kafka, Huxley or any other author that he was quite fond of, but somehow he knew it would make him look even more like a relic so he smiled politely and a bit helplessly and proceeded to his defrosted lasagna.

‘Sure, I`ll drop you a text, bye now,’ Mark turned to Robert. ‘Thanks for coming, Bob… Robert. Robert?..’

‘Oh, sorry, I got carried away,’ Robert blinked coming back to reality. Clumsily, he took a seat almost knocking off a rubbish bin on the way. ‘Sorry,’ he slouched apologetically not knowing what to do with his hands. Mark was watching him with a strange expression on his face. Robert felt his gaze and, painfully aware of his own awkwardness, finally placed his hands on his knees like a praying monk.

‘It’s fine,’ Mark`s voice paired with his facial expression. ‘You know, time is money, so I’ll just jump straight to business if you don’t mind.’

Robert nodded, ‘Yes, of course.’

‘As you know, we’ve been working on a very important project,’ Mark was lazily strolling around the room. ‘I was hoping that it would propel my company to a new level, but for that to happen the project should have been executed impeccably. Do you see what I mean?’ He stopped at his desk. Mark was tall, slim-built and extremely charismatic. He never shouted at anyone. He purred. Velvet syllables rolled on from his plump, fresh lips turning his employees into frozen statues. There was something deeply wrong about his gentle purring, something heinous like a steel blade hiding in the lace of a glove. Robert felt the icy tingling caressing the back of his neck.

‘Yes, I guess so,’ he mumbled hesitantly. ‘I’m trying to do my best, Mark. The company means a lot to me, too.’

Mark cringed at last sentence. ‘Lies do make me unhappy. I know well enough that you would love to be somewhere else in the world that’s old-fashioned, predictable, well-equipped for people like you. But you’re here,’ he paused searching for the right words. ‘And I’m responsible for my company.’

Robert froze in his chair swallowing uncontrollably.

‘Are you saying… going?’

‘Am I what, Robert?’ Mark's dark eyes flickered.

‘Are you…’ Robert tried to summon all his courage. ‘Are you saying that I am incompetent?’ he finally spat out the word. The palms of his big hands were so sticky with sweat that he was praying for Mark to turn away so he could wipe them on his office trousers.

‘What do you think yourself?’ purred Mark. His plump lips curved with slight disgust, his eyes followed every move of his prey. How come this was the man he had been searching for?

Robert wiggled helplessly like a fish on a hook that cut way too deep in its mouth.

‘I don’t know. I hope… I hope I’m not letting you down, Mark. I always do my best but these new computers… I got quite used to the old interfaces, you see.’

Mark interrupted him, ‘I know you can do better. Faster. I’m responsible for you as well, dear Robert, so it`s the last time I’m asking you - get your shit together or this place will cease to be you nice little haven under my wing. Is this clear, Robert?’

How come this arrogant youngster was the boss? Who let him roam free? But Robert would never dare to say something like this out loud so he just nodded. Again.

‘I’m going home and I want you to stay and finish your work. I’d hate to see us all pitying you. It would be just awful, wouldn’t it?’ Mark`s sweet smile never reached his eyes leaving his beautiful face look so cold and distant.

‘Don’t be afraid, there are no ghosts here.’

Robert was looking at his boss with a mixture of jealousy and hatred. How many times he imagined his big hands squeezing Mark`s throat tightly, enjoying the hissing and gurgling sounds of air leaving his lungs, fear in his teary eyes and... Mark must have noticed something in his stare and stopped putting papers into his bag.

‘Don’t do stupid things, Robert. I still trust you. Can I?’

Gasping for air, Robert slowly agreed. He hated Mark so much that he wanted to have their worlds collide, devour him, become one, become Mark`s hazel eyes, his angelic lips, his passive aggressive self.

‘Good boy,’ Mark showed Robert to the door. Roberts locked their eyes for a brief moment before returning to his desk. There was no mercy in Mark`s gaze, no warmth.

Robert watched his coworkers going home chatting excitedly, laughing. Belonging. Being part of a crowd so effortlessly. Seemingly, no one felt sorry for leaving him behind all alone. Like an old stray dog he watched the dance of scarves and coats, fluttering from hangers onto the people's shoulders. A party he wasn’t invited to.

The winter night crept into the empty office and stopped at the circle of light at Robert`s desk. Its soft, silky waves played at his feet rolling onto his shoes. Unnoticed by Robert the first snowflakes lazily landed on the windowsill, interlocking their lacey, intricate hands. More and more snowflakes followed as if willed into existence by quiet melodies that Robert was listening to. Soon enough the parking lot was colored festive white, gleaming in the orange light of street lamps. It looked almost homely in its deceitful tranquility. ‘Come to us,’ whispered the snowflakes. ‘We will sing you to sleep. We will make you one of us – cold and perfect, blissfully indifferent to anything but dancing. Fall with us and fly with us to the moon.’

Robert yawned and stretched his back. He managed to forget about Mark`s spiteful gaze for a few hours, but tiredness obligingly brought it back and served it hot for Robert to feel the stinging burn again. He checked the time. Two o’clock in the morning. That man made him stay just by telling him. He didn’t have to threaten or plead. He just told him and there Robert was - a fifty year old man dancing obediently like a lapdog. Blood rushed up his blood vessels and like a hot wave drowned the man provoking angry tears. He blinked and turned his computer off. Enough is enough. He had to show Mark that he had overstepped all the possible boundaries. He had to do what Mark told him to do - get his shit together.

His coat was waiting for him. For a moment Robert almost admired how lonely it looked like. There was something poetic about an abandoned garment keeping the outlines of a human body, carrying the odours in its seams, lost hairs and ash crumbs in the pockets. His big hands stroked the empty sleeve, caressing it like a woman’s bare shoulder. It was the time to regain power. Oh the look of surprise on his coworkers` faces! Oh the fear, the knowing! Robert smirked and put on his coat deftly. He even felt younger. He’d almost forgotten how wonderful it felt to have a clear plan. He took his bag and fished for the car keys in his pocket. Welcome Robert the Strong!

The carousel of snowflakes outside had crafted a thick blanket securely covering the rooftops, the porches and parking lots. Robert`s car was buried underneath a giant pile of snow and the blizzard piled the snow against the door. Robert pushed the door only to find out that he had been locked inside. Even if he unlocked the door, there was no way he could leave the office and even his newly found will power could not melt the snow and reverse the billions of snowflakes mockingly descending upon the city.

‘Oh, what the hell,’ muttered Robert. His weakness and indecisiveness cost him a good night sleep in his own bed. ‘Here, ripe what you sow…’ He couldn’t stop the anger starting to raise its ugly head.

‘Why do you have to blame yourself?’ another voice asked him. ‘Haven’t you done enough for this company? It’s not even a remarkable one. And look at the ungrateful swine that declared itself your boss. It’s his fault, not yours. You’ve been doing the right thing all along, and look where it’s gotten you!’

He frowned looking at a hump concealing his car. Patience was a virtue, indeed, but it was the time to sin. Slowly Robert went back to the office, turned on the lights and unzipped one of his bag`s pockets. He rummaged in it for a few moments and produced a small set of lock picks.

The voice in his head whistled quietly as Robert opened a leather purse and admired a flashing spark on the tip of a rake. He never thought he’d have enough madness to act on his dream, but the right moment had finally come. The new Robert would never let anyone humiliate or treat him as a slave anymore.

He put on leather gloves, picked up his tools and headed towards Mark`s office. It was dark and quiet inside; the sound of his footsteps was swallowed by the grey carpet on the corridor floor. Sudden panic twisted his stomach. What if he never found anything in the office? What if Mark never stole a penny or blackmailed anyone? What if he had mistaken sternness for rudeness? What if he had been wrong all along? What if…

‘Don’t be stupid,’ hissed the inner voice. ‘Stop being a coward. You will find something on that dirty pig. You know that.’

Robert wiped his forehead. He imagined he could smell his own sweat turning his armpits into stinky puddles. He’d have to do some unscheduled laundry, for sure.

He bit his lips to calm down the rushing heartbeat, knelt in front of the door and tried the handle. The door was locked. Robert took a deep breath and tried to recreate a YouTube tutorial in his head. Nervously he picked the tools. The fear of breaking one in the lock sent shivers down the spine but he shook it off. Patiently he started to work on the lock awaiting for the click. It seemed like thousands of years went by when the lock clicked and the door opened. Robert gasped and pulled the steel hump back too quickly bending it in the lock. Cold sweat broke out.

‘You idiot!’ screamed the voice. ‘Bloody idiot!’

Robert blinked off the sweat drops blinding him.

It’s fine. It’s all fine.

With great caution he released the hump and collapsed on the floor. He couldn’t believe the power Mark held over him.

The empty office looked no different. Making a conscious effort, Robert made himself stand tall and walk in proudly. He turned on the desk lamp and reached for the drawers opening them one by one. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Dirt. He saw it in films. He studied the papers carefully, but found nothing suspicious.

Enormously disappointed he sank into Mark`s chair and fixed his gaze at the drawers. Their hungry gobs were grinning at him. He growled back, baring his teeth. A slave, just a miserable slave he was. He was lying in a big leather chair tired, drained and meek. He failed.

Suddenly something caught his attention. He leaned forward and ran his fingers along the bottom of the middle drawer. The panel creaked and shifted. Mark squeezed a hump between it and the side of the drawer. When he took out what happened to be a false bottom, underneath he saw a brown envelope. Bating his breath, Robert was staring at it thoughtlessly. Finally, he automatically reached out his hand and grabbed the envelope. It was quite heavy and looked new but even Robert the Strong was too scared and overwhelmed to fully engage with the reality. His whole future lay hidden in that folded piece of brown paper. Was it the future that he was hoping for?

Robert forced his wooden fingers to open the envelope. Like dead birds a dozen of freshly printed photographs fell out on the floor.

A giant tsunami of horror stabbed Roberts in the chest.

Every single picture on the floor had Robert in it: grocery shopping, jogging, crossing the street, staring at a shop window. He was looking at his own face and couldn’t quite recognize it. Why had somebody taken pictures of him? Why was Mark keeping them in his office desk?

‘He wants to kill you,’ a tocsin tolled the alarm in his head. He sank even deeper, stunned and paralyzed by the simple idea.

‘He hates you so much that he will erase the very memory of you. Admit it, you`ve known it for a long time. But what will you do? Will you let him?’ pulsated in his head. His brain was about to explode, his heart stuck in his throat suffocating the man whose whiteness and stillness resembled a statue.

‘What will you do?’

Mark was always the first one back in the office in the morning. He took his time to spy on his employees, securing his leadership. That morning he was in a hurry. The blizzard had blocked the roads and Mark was restless and furious in his car dragging behind the snow remover. He rushed into the office, leaving Robert`s car unspotted.

He dropped his keys in the snow and couldn’t find them for a good five minutes. Mark hated snow and he hated obstacles. That morning everything was going wrong. All he wanted was to stick to his routine which included a cup of coffee with a drop of Irish whiskey. Blinded by his fury and impatience, Mark was caught by surprise and knocked off his feet by a sudden blow that came from behind.

‘Good morning, Mark,’ a husky voice greeted him. Mark managed to get on all fours and rolled on his back. His head was hurting.

‘Robert…’

He had completely forgotten about him. Shocked, Mark touched the back of his head and screamed at the blood on his fingers.

‘I’ve finished the presentation,’ continued Robert. ‘You were right. I had to get my shit together. Thank you, Mark.’

‘What are you saying?’ horrified, Mark tried to crawl away from Robert. ‘Stop it! You don’t know what you’re doing!’

Robert was following him enjoying the chase, grinning madly.

‘You’re wrong. I know.’

Mark collapsed like a sack when a heavy marble presse papier crushed his skull. Blood was squirting in Robert`s face as he kept smashing the mess that used to be Mark`s head.

‘Do you smoke?’ a detective police inspector looked at Robert across the table at the police station.

He shook his head.

‘Why did you kill Mark Sullivan?’

‘He wanted to kill me. I acted in self-defense.’

‘Why do you think he wanted to kill you?’

‘He was spying on me. He had photographs of me taken without my knowledge or consent.’

‘Why didn’t you inform the police then?’

Robert scoffed.

The police inspector slid a folder towards him.

‘During your student years you donated your biological material to earn a few quid. Mark didn’t want to kill you. He was your son trying to get to know his long lost father.’