The Last Interview

At first, it was just the eyes. Hazel, like a stack of firewood in the winter. They had a summer-like warmth to them, but still, Cam felt frozen in place. He could not see much, the rest of the body still an empty canvas. Suddenly, the outline of a head is becoming less opaque. He has to stay! If he could just wait a little longer he might see more. Something is taking shape at the... 

Cam opens raises his head off the pillow displeased. He always seems to wake up just when the next detail is about to reveal itself. 

He throws the pills deep into his mouth and takes a big gulp of coffee to swallow them. Two anti-depressants, one multi-vitamin, and a muscle relaxer. After watching the YouTube video for the fifth time, he manages to make a Winsor knot in his tie. Maybe the Winsor can bring some good luck and he might get this job. If not, this would be the third unsuccessful interview this month. 

Cam grabs his coat, gives Charcoal, his cat, a rub on her head, and leaves the cramped apartment. He calls for a taxi and finally leaves for Rogers Fernsby Smith. Who would have thought that a Yale Law student struggles this much to find employment? The secretary at the front desk is impatient, exhausted, and easily irritated, but shows him to the conference room where he finds the three name partners. In the first chair, a large man is seated. Cam recognizes him as Mr. J.W Rogers, the best divorce attorney one could ask for. In the next chair, Cam identifies Mrs. Felicia Smith, who fought for queer marriage rights in Ohio, helping the change along much faster. 

Then there is Fernsby. Matthew W. Fernsby. Never accomplished anything big or mighty. Originally, he was not part of the group of lawyers to start this firm. He did not win any big cases. He lost his previous firm seventeen clients. He had three failed marriages and overall, nobody outside of the law industry knew his name. 

As Cam enters, he is greeted by Ms. Smith. Fernsby looked uncomfortable and stressed. He could not keep his eyes focused on one object for more than a second. It seemed as though the other two were staring right through Cam’s soul and searching with only their eyes for dark secrets he might be hiding. They continued to ask Cam a bunch of questions, about law, family matters, and why he was still unemployed. Cam found a way to answer each one of them. 

At the end of the interview, Fernsby –who was silent as a robber during the interview- stood up and walked out first with a bit of a limp with each step. There was something strange about the way he acted. He was known for his rude and heartless comments to anyone, but he was mute during the entire interview. He was hiding something.

Still waiting for the call to confirm whether he got the job or not, Cam drank two more anti-depressants. “Today had been a tough one” he convinced himself. He went to rest his eyes for a bit on the couch, but before he knew it, he was fast asleep. The girl stepped into his dreams and, this time, her whole face was visible. She looked tired, yet beautiful. Dark circles beneath the caramel irises. She looked familiar. He had seen her before. She was mouthing something, tears streaming from her eyes but Cam could not understand what she was trying to say.

In the midst of attempting to read her rose-colored lips, he woke up to the clamorous ring of his phone. He felt guilty leaving the nameless girl in his dream, the blank white room his mind had dreamt up all but there was nothing he could do now. He answered sleepily but quickly straightened up when he heard 

“This is Clarice from Rogers Fernsby Smith;”

“Hi, uhm, this is Cam Brooks”

“Yes, I know. We regret to inform you that you did not get the position at our firm but thank you for applying.”

With a loud sigh, he presses the red button to end another rejection call. He starts to make coffee, but midway he throws the mug onto the cold floor, sending shattered porcelain flying in every direction. A headache immediately forms on the sides of his head, feeling as if someone is knocking from the inside of his skull. He swallows a handful of pain meds, making him feel drowsy and he goes to sleep again.

His mind enters the spotless, colorless room and he waits in anticipation for his companion of dreams to arrive. She never shows up. He sleeps eleven hours before waking up, only to feel confused and abandoned. After weeks of the same dream, she just leaves? He feels as though he should be mourning the loss of a close friend. 

Cam checks his phone and finds four missed calls from the same number. He takes a sip of his scotch and dials the number back. The phone rings twice before a familiar voice greets.

“Roger Fernsby Smith, this is Clarice speaking”

“Hello, I got four missed calls from this number, is everything in place?”

“I assume you are Cam Brooks? I just wanted to let you know that you left a bottle of pills in our waiting room.”

“Oh, sorry. I will... I will come to pick it up in an hour.”

“Thank you, see you then”

A loud voice talks in the background. Fernsby. 

“Clarice, get in here NOW!”

The phone disconnects.

He hastily gets dressed and rushes downstairs to get a cab. Something happened to Clarice and he wants to know what. The elevator door is barely open when Cam is out of it. At the front desk, there is a new woman, not Clarice. 

“I’m looking for Clarice.” He demands

“Clarice is not available at the...”

“Where is Clarice?” He urgently interrupts

The poor girl looks scared but points a finger to an office next to the conference room. On a little sign, it states that the office belongs to Fernsby. Without a knock or any warning Cam swings the door, open. And there she was. Hazel eyes with dark circles, and now tears, too, surrounding them. Cam’s mind races, how is this happening? But there is no time for logic. His eyes finally catch the other three men in the room. Mr. Matthew W. Fernsby and two police officers.

One jumps up and very forcefully shoves Cam out of the room. No time for questions, words, or thoughts. Only confused looks directed at each other. Felicia Smith’s calm voice tells Cam to follow her. They enter her office and she hands him a glass of water.

“How do you and Miss Clarice know each other?” The smooth voice asks

“We don’t. I saw her in a dream, well actually a couple of dreams.”

“That is rather odd.”

“What happened? With Fernsby and her, I mean.”

“Well, at the moment we are not sure but it seems that Mr. Fernsby made some sort of move on Miss Clarice, and she reported him to Human Resources. As it turns out this is not the first time he was reported. Thus, the police have to get involved.”

And now it all became clear. Cam saw everything as if out of a new perspective. All the dreams made sense. The words she mouthed, “I need help, please help me. Next time he might do more. Please I do not know what to do.” 

“Why are they not arresting him?” Cam asks.

“Clarice reported the incident almost three weeks after it happened, they have to be sure that she is being truthful.” Another voice comments. It is Rogers.

“But how can they think she is lying? Can they not think of what she must’ve been through?”

Smith speaking this time: “I suggest you go home, get some rest. You look tired” 

“How can I sleep not knowing they hear her, trust her?”

“We will call you as soon as we get an update. Your number is at the front desk. And don’t you worry; we will make sure she says what she must.” Felicia had this soothing, yet commanding voice. 

After eleven hours only just slept through, how can he look tired? As he walks past the front desk, he grabs his bottle of antidepressants. He does not understand how or why Clarice was talking to him in his dreams calling for help, but he knows he did not help her.

She was crying in his subconscious, but he could not even remember her. This overwhelming guilt filled Cam. It would become unbearable. Next time anyone would see Cam Brooks, he would be lying on the floor, an empty pill bottle next to him and the autopsy results confirming an overdose as the cause of his death.

Clarice did not know of the dreams. She did not know of the responsibility Cam felt for her. All she knows of him is from the few seconds they spent on the phone and the intense eye contact they shared in Fernsby’s office. Fernsby lost his employment at Rogers Smith. Cam was scared that he caused Clarice’s life to end like a shipwreck, but she was just lost for a moment, not broken for a lifetime.