The Currious Case of Robert M. Paz, Part 3
March 16th 2011 01:14
I absolutely wanted to find the right finish for this story, so here, at long last, is the conclusion to TCCoRMP
From then on out, due to the extremely illogical string of events, Mr. Paz and Nurse Barbara became friends.
During that exact moment in time, Dorothy felt the full impact of her decision to keep the bus in gear that fateful Monday morning.
“Ms. Logan, I know that you have been with the company for twenty years, but I’m afraid that this is the third time that this has happened. And, well, I’m sorry. We’re going to have to let you go.” The man in his fifty dollar business suit sat behind the desk, his hair slicked back, graying at the temples. In her 20 years of service, she had only seen this office twice, once when she got hired by the balding man 20 years ago, and right now, his son firing her.
“But, what about all my awards? Don’t they count for something?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but there’s a recession out there, and we can’t afford to keep you. I wish I could do more…” he lit up a rather expensive cigar. “But, times being what they are. If you need a letter of recommendation, I’ll be more than happy to give one to you.”
“But, bus driving is all I know, and with the strict air laws, more companies are…”
“Save it for your blog. Now, get out. I have a lot to get done this morning.”
And she left. And as she left, she thought about Mr. Paz, and how it was his fault for her getting fired. And as she got home, she brooded on that thought, until it grew to fill her every being with grief. She could find him easily enough. She knew the route. He looked as if he held little importance to anyone, or anything. And, as she thought and plotted, she realized any amount of retribution would never get her job back. Still, there must have been something that she could do.
Perhaps it would make her feel better. To place the blame on someone else, and take that blame away.
Early morning, she made her way to his bus stop. The regular people were there, with a couple of new people. But he never came.
The new morning, she went there, and waited, just the same, and the couple of new people arrived just as they had before. But, he didn’t come, again.
For a moment, she felt sorry for him. He must have hit his head hard enough to place him in the hospital.
Day after day, she waited for him. An entire week went by, and he never arrived. She waited another week, until a month went by, and he still wasn’t there. In the meanwhile, the hatred that had burrowed its way into her began to blossom and take over her body. She had to find Robert Paz, if it was the last thing that she did, and make him pay for what he had done.
Two months after that fateful day, she decided to get on the bus and try and find his place of work. As the bus ran along the route, one of her regulars recognized her.
“Hey, you were the bus driver for this route, right?” The young Latino, with hope glistening in his eyes smiled warmly at the familiar sight he had forgotten. She smiled back. “I remember the first time I got on this bus, and was terrified, because I had an interview at the job that I got, and you said that I shouldn’t have worried. If the job was meant to be, then it was meant to be, and nothing could take it away. I told those words to my daughter, when she went in for her first interview, and she said that it went so well, because of those words, that she told me to thank you, but you never came back. Is everything ok?”
That momentary contact from another human being, the first time in two months, softened her heart, and a tear came to her eye. Her grandmother told her the phrase on her death bed. Life was as it was, as it had been. As she sat on the bus, she noticed Mr. Paz get on, with a large grin on his face. She though about all the mean things that she wanted to do to him, make him pay, but none of that mattered now. She didn’t want to do it.
“So, what are you doing these days,” the young Latino man prompted her as the bus drove down the street.
“After the accident, I’m afraid that I was fired.” It seemed so hard to say, as she had nobody to talk to, and it had stayed trapped inside for the better part of two months.
“That’s a shame,” he continued. “We could definitely use you over at the plant, if you’re willing. I know the head of transportation, and we need someone to drive folks around from one site to another, and with your experience, I’m sure that you’ll have no troubles getting hired. My name is Maurice Lopez. Tell George that I sent you. In fact,” he said reaching into his pocket, “Take my card and show it to him. It would be great to have you on our team, Dorothy.”
And, by the end of the day, she had a better job, Mr. Paz lost his anonymity, and everybody lived happily ever after.
From then on out, due to the extremely illogical string of events, Mr. Paz and Nurse Barbara became friends.
During that exact moment in time, Dorothy felt the full impact of her decision to keep the bus in gear that fateful Monday morning.
“Ms. Logan, I know that you have been with the company for twenty years, but I’m afraid that this is the third time that this has happened. And, well, I’m sorry. We’re going to have to let you go.” The man in his fifty dollar business suit sat behind the desk, his hair slicked back, graying at the temples. In her 20 years of service, she had only seen this office twice, once when she got hired by the balding man 20 years ago, and right now, his son firing her.
“But, what about all my awards? Don’t they count for something?”
“Look, I’m sorry, but there’s a recession out there, and we can’t afford to keep you. I wish I could do more…” he lit up a rather expensive cigar. “But, times being what they are. If you need a letter of recommendation, I’ll be more than happy to give one to you.”
“But, bus driving is all I know, and with the strict air laws, more companies are…”
“Save it for your blog. Now, get out. I have a lot to get done this morning.”
And she left. And as she left, she thought about Mr. Paz, and how it was his fault for her getting fired. And as she got home, she brooded on that thought, until it grew to fill her every being with grief. She could find him easily enough. She knew the route. He looked as if he held little importance to anyone, or anything. And, as she thought and plotted, she realized any amount of retribution would never get her job back. Still, there must have been something that she could do.
Perhaps it would make her feel better. To place the blame on someone else, and take that blame away.
Early morning, she made her way to his bus stop. The regular people were there, with a couple of new people. But he never came.
The new morning, she went there, and waited, just the same, and the couple of new people arrived just as they had before. But, he didn’t come, again.
For a moment, she felt sorry for him. He must have hit his head hard enough to place him in the hospital.
Day after day, she waited for him. An entire week went by, and he never arrived. She waited another week, until a month went by, and he still wasn’t there. In the meanwhile, the hatred that had burrowed its way into her began to blossom and take over her body. She had to find Robert Paz, if it was the last thing that she did, and make him pay for what he had done.
Two months after that fateful day, she decided to get on the bus and try and find his place of work. As the bus ran along the route, one of her regulars recognized her.
“Hey, you were the bus driver for this route, right?” The young Latino, with hope glistening in his eyes smiled warmly at the familiar sight he had forgotten. She smiled back. “I remember the first time I got on this bus, and was terrified, because I had an interview at the job that I got, and you said that I shouldn’t have worried. If the job was meant to be, then it was meant to be, and nothing could take it away. I told those words to my daughter, when she went in for her first interview, and she said that it went so well, because of those words, that she told me to thank you, but you never came back. Is everything ok?”
That momentary contact from another human being, the first time in two months, softened her heart, and a tear came to her eye. Her grandmother told her the phrase on her death bed. Life was as it was, as it had been. As she sat on the bus, she noticed Mr. Paz get on, with a large grin on his face. She though about all the mean things that she wanted to do to him, make him pay, but none of that mattered now. She didn’t want to do it.
“So, what are you doing these days,” the young Latino man prompted her as the bus drove down the street.
“After the accident, I’m afraid that I was fired.” It seemed so hard to say, as she had nobody to talk to, and it had stayed trapped inside for the better part of two months.
“That’s a shame,” he continued. “We could definitely use you over at the plant, if you’re willing. I know the head of transportation, and we need someone to drive folks around from one site to another, and with your experience, I’m sure that you’ll have no troubles getting hired. My name is Maurice Lopez. Tell George that I sent you. In fact,” he said reaching into his pocket, “Take my card and show it to him. It would be great to have you on our team, Dorothy.”
And, by the end of the day, she had a better job, Mr. Paz lost his anonymity, and everybody lived happily ever after.
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