He rounded the corner and I was left staring at his amazing painting.
"Come straight back when you've finished cleaning up," called the Director's voice from behind me. "We'll be waiting for you."
"Got it," the man replied from around the corner.
Clouds.
She was so close and I hadn't even known she was there. I leapt up in fright, jumping out of my socks and so high that I cracked my head on the ceiling and a plaster tile with it. Crouching on the floor and holding my sore head, I smelt more than saw Mr Holt crouch down beside me to help rub my sore head.
I saw sparkling stars spangling across my vision, while my previous concussion headache flared with a sharpness that brought tears to my eyes.
"Goodness, Kim. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you like that," said the Director.
I peered up at the broken plaster tile on the ceiling.
"Am I going to have to pay for that?" I choked out, wondering how much it would cost and whether my savings would be able to cover it. Most of my pay was split between being sent back to my family to help them out and back to the tribe to help them out.
Once one belonged to a tribe, everything you had was considered part of the tribe or family's property. There was not much of a concept of individual ownership or privacy in the tribe. Everything was shared. If it weren't for Sarden insisting I leave myself an allowance every pay period to make sure I could get by without needing to borrow from him, I'd have an empty bank account balance.
For those like me who worked outside the tribe, we were expected to send money back to show our gratitude and blessings to the tribe. The tribe would then reallocate and redistribute the resources to where they were deemed to be important. They never sent me anything.
I had been grateful enough that they had given me a place to stay, cast off clothes and food, rather than being abandoned in the wilderness for the wild dogs. Still, being allowed to return home to my parents was the biggest and best event of my childhood.
Life was a little bit better. I wasn't found wanting all the time. The tribe's rules weren't enforced so strictly. Most importantly, I was able to live with my parents. Even if they were always so stressed and busy that they had no time for me. From my time in the tribe, I had learnt that expressions of gratitude could get me further and keep me safer. So I took up most of the housework.
Before long, my own family began to take me for granted. They ordered me here and there. Do this. Do that. I had no understanding of what relaxation and recreation meant until I had pretty much finished highschool and the careers counsellor asked me what my hobbies were. She had taken hours over the course of a week trying to explain to me what hobbies and work-study-life balance was all about. I didn't believe her until I surreptitiously asked fellow classmates and teachers what they did as a hobby.
It was then I had realised that I had been missing out on a whole aspect of life and freedom that other people my age experienced but I never had. It confounded me that people didn't spend all their time working or studying, doing chores or running errands for other people.
I suppose that was also when the teachers realised that there was something wrong with me. I had no close friends either and I spent all my spare time studying or catching short naps. I had even been caught studying in the toilets, not even putting down my textbook while I memorised its contents.
But that was something to think about another time. Right now, I wondered how much those ceiling tiles cost. Would twenty dollars be enough?
"Goodness, Kim," laughed the Director, somewhat awkwardly. "No. You don't have to pay for that. It was my fault. I'll deal with it."
"How was it your fault?" I asked. "Isn't it my head that hit the ceiling?"
Mr Holt tried to smother a laugh. I didn't understand what he was laughing about.
"What's so funny?" I glanced at the Director who was obviously trying to suppress her mirth too. "Breaking company property is no laughing matter. It's very serious."
"Kim, you are a dear," the Director coughed and shook her head at me. "Hitting the ceiling is a metaphor for getting angry. In this case, your use of the phrase would prompt us to ask what made you so angry that you hit the ceiling."
"But I wasn't angry," I pointed out. "I got scared out of my socks. Look. My socks and shoes are over there."
I heard coughing and attempts at smothered sounds coming from the secretaries while Mr Holt and the Director didn't hold back their laughter anymore. If they laughed any harder, I wondered if they would split their sides or crack up. Granted I'd never actually seen such things happen to someone who was said to be laughing their head off, but I was concerned that they might injure themselves all the same.
Feeling a bit offended and disgruntled that they were laughing at me, I put my socks and shoes back on. Then I resumed rubbing my sore head. The sparkling stars were finally fading from my vision.
Now I understood the saying where a person could be hit so hard that they saw stars. Although I had already done it once earlier, I hadn't had time to think about it for long at that time. Now I did.
I needed new socks. These socks were too loose. No wonder I had jumped out of them in surprise.
The director and Mr Holt ushered me into the office while still laughing and had me sit down, trying to calm themselves down. Their amusement at my expense really made me frown.
"Don't frown like that," Mr Holt caught his breath and tried to smooth the wrinkles on my face out. "Kim, I'm sorry. It's been a difficult few days and seeing a bit of slapstick like that, I can't help myself. I need to thank you for helping me loosen up a bit."
"Yes," Director Worth agreed. I read her name off the plaque on the table. Director Susan Worth.
"Glad to have been of service," I pressed my lips together into a duck bill, feeling slightly sulky. I was seldom of any use and so being able to make them laugh at least proved that I wasn't entirely worthless. "I don't understand what a slapstick is though."
My facial expression seemed to set my two superiors off again despite obviously trying to regain their composure. In order to help them, I helped refill their mugs of water and got myself another cup.
"I'm sorry," Director Worth apologised this time, while I waited somewhat impatiently and uncomfortably. "It's rare to have any opportunity to laugh these days. Please don't feel like we're mocking you in any way, Kim."
"Not at all," I pulled my lips to one side. "I'm seldom of any use to anyone and so I'm actually somewhat glad that I can be of service and have made you both laugh, even if I don't understand why you're laughing. I understand it has been difficult these days with that Chad Thundercock challenging the Agency and our city's police. Though, to be honest, I find his name far more amusing than this current situation."
Mr Holt stopped laughing to cock an eyebrow at me.
"I haven't heard you say that much in a while, Kim," he smiled at me. Beamed, rather. Proudly. As if he were a father doting on his daughter. I didn't understand why though. I wasn't his daughter.
The Director cleared her throat, took a sip of water and switched into serious work mode.
"Alright. I'm done. Thank you for your patience, Kim."
"Director, you're my superior. I have to have nothing but respect and patience for you," I replied and accidentally caused both my superiors to crack up again. "What did I do again? What did I say?"
"Kim," Mr Holt shook his head at me. "That's usually what superiors say to those under them. For you to say it is not quite right."
"It's not?" I asked in bewilderment. "Even if it's true?"
"I can somewhat see why you have insisted on keeping her already," Director Worth told Mr Holt. "Alright. I'll approve your side request."
"Thank you, Director," Mr Holt gave a slight bow from his chair.