People around here didn’t see the real me.
*
As expected, I had a hard time concentrating on work. After Rudy left, at least three other people poked their head inside my office asking, Did you hear what happened up on Twenty? Michael was dead and, slowly, bits and pieces about his death trickled out like the drip-drip of a leaky faucet, laced with the spin and embellishment of every person who shared the dreadful news of Michael’s suicide. Michael was depressed. Michael had tried to kill himself before. Michael accidentally shot himself. All of it was so far from the truth and what I knew about him.
I’d had enough. I decided to go down to the lobby for a cup of tea and some clarity. The flashing lights and sirens of the morning’s activity had settled down to the normal din of passing traffic outside and the white noise of people milling about inside the lobby, nodding sadly at one another, speculating about why such a nice guy would do such a horrible thing.
I rounded the corner out of Starbucks when I spotted Hardy King, the director of Corporate Security. Hardy made two of me and I’m not petite. His crumpled suit jacket and shirt had long since surrendered to the girth of his oversize gut, giving him the appearance of a hastily made bed with a pillow tossed in the center of it. Hardy was originally from New Jersey. No southern accent. I didn’t have one either. I ditched my accent fifteen minutes after stepping foot on the grounds of Coventry Academy Prep when a girl giggled after I raised my hand during orientation to say I wanted to axe a question. She made a chopping motion and said I probably shouldn’t hurt the teacher. I learned the proper way to say the word ask and never made another diction mistake again. My first lesson in code-switching.
Hardy threw both arms around me in a big bear hug. Hardy hugged everyone. “You heard?”
“Yeah.”
“How you doing? What about the rest of the folks in Legal?” Hardy had served as a witness in a few cases and knew everyone in the Legal Department. Most people in the company considered Hardy a schmuck, an overpaid driver for Nate and other executives on the twentieth floor. But, like Rudy, he was a nice guy, always helpful and had the scoop on whatever was going on inside the company. He was also a widower with no kids. I figured he was probably lonely, so I always felt a little sorry for him.
“I think we’re all in shock. It doesn’t make sense.”
Hardy shook his head sadly. “Yeah, Mikey was one of the good guys.”
I was nervous but I had to ask. “Who found him?”
“His assistant. She’s a mess now too. For good reason. It wasn’t a pretty scene. We had to send her home.”
“Oh.” Michael’s bloody body flashed through my mind again.
Hardy looked at me, all sad and pitiful with the corners of his mouth folded down. “Did he say anything to make you think he’d do something like this?”
“No. That’s why everyone’s in shock. Michael hated guns. I didn’t think he even owned one.”
“Really?”
Two women passed by us laughing about something. They weren’t particularly loud, but their jovial behavior seemed out of place in the lobby today. Hardy and I watched them until they were out of earshot.
“Did he leave a note?”
Hardy scratched his graying buzz cut. “Nothing.”
A part of me was glad he didn’t. Whatever demons Michael wrestled with should remain his own. Less fodder for the gossip herd to feed on. For a fleeting moment, I wondered what part I might have played in his death. Had this been his way out of a bad marriage and a lackluster affair?
“I guess it might not matter now, but was there anything going on in Legal? Some big case you guys were trying that was getting to him? Stressing him out?”
“No. I’m telling you, he was fine.”
“This is crazy stuff.” Hardy shook his head slowly. “And I think the media is gonna have a field day with all this. Don’t forget about the folks outside.”
I turned toward the lobby windows facing out onto Peachtree Street. A small group of protesters were carrying placards: HOUGHTON HATES BLACKS and UNFAIR TREATMENT, UNFAIR HIRING and DON’T SPEND YOUR $$ WITH HOUGHTON.
“The protesters have been out there for months now,” Hardy said. “I can’t imagine they’ll let up now that the news cameras are around.”
“Three months to be exact, but you have to admit, there aren’t many people around this company that look like me.”
Hardy nodded understandingly. “Yeah, that needs to stop too.”