Stacey Levine - Dra-

She spoke more loudly: “Did you ever notice that some employees try to refrain from making choices, as if wanting to hide from their responsibilities? Those people are in the margins of life — they don’t understand that not choosing is but a choice in itself! And that’s sad. Why, all actions, even the scantest movements of our eyelids, are choices, and no one can escape that fact.” She shook her head. “By God, you’re going to choose!” she said huskily, eyeing Dra— carefully. “Now, don’t be concerned if you feel a numbness in your limbs — that’s only the chill of an open hole before you.”

The Manager stood upright, staring not at Dra—’s eyes, but at the base of her neck, as if pinning numerous hopes there.

And Dra—, made eager and enthused by the Manager’s speech, clasped her hands together, watching hopefully as the Manager strode to the end of the counter and used her forefinger to indicate the two worksites on a thick wall map, which rustled and undulated and would not lie flat.

These jobs, the Manager was saying, were new jobs, never before offered to any employee; and both were excellent jobs, exciting too, as well as devastatingly lonely, one located at a remote encampment that dealt with the research and classification of dust, and the second at a more centrally located site focused upon the monitoring and maintaining of a small water pump.

The Manager handed Dra— a pamphlet that described the pump station: it would actually present fewer pressures than did other worksites, and there, employees had strong advantages, such as an extra few minutes of rest time for every three and a quarter shifts worked, and flexibility with the identification card.

The card did not need to be worn in full visibility at this site, the pamphlet read, but could be placed casually in any pocket above the waist, so long as an inch of the card showed above the pocket’s edge, and if the pocket was too deep, the card needed to be pinned to the pocket, just so the pin was small and neat, and if there was any difficulty in keeping to this rule, the entire pocket would need to be ripped away with a razor, and all other pockets on the employee’s person as well, just to ensure that the card always remain exposed and visible.

The Manager smoothed her skirt and took the pamphlet from Dra—, throwing it on the floor. “You will be required to produce your weight in work by the time the probation period has expired — that’s routine. I know how badly you want to work, so you’ll understand when I say you must hurry and decide which of these jobs you would like. In fact, you need to decide this moment, ‘this moment’ meaning not only now, but every fraction of time that slips away after this moment, so as you can see, ‘now’ is really all our futures, and probably part of the past as well. Never mind — if you choose a worksite quickly, you’ll be able to escape the burden of uncertainty, at least for a while. Oh, it’s always so good to choose — choosing is healthy for the entire body, the newscasters say; why, the very idea of choosing implies release.”

The Manager slipped down in her chair, tired, sighing, stretching luxuriously, lifting the weight of her hair behind her neck and musing, “Why is it so hard for you, I wonder? Oh, please, God, you’ve got to choose. You can’t beat choosing. It’s best — history tells us so. I like a woman who chooses and who tunes an ear to local protocol — it’s an ancient practice amongst females, after all.”

She smiled authentically at Dra—, mouth still glossy with the red lipstick.

It was obviously true, Dra— conceded to herself, standing there at the counter, back aching, head pounding with pressure, that choosing would be best; and naturally she wanted a job badly, and yet, neck and face stiff as if paralyzed, she explained to the Manager in quiet, ashamed tones that she could not choose, at least not right now, and with very little movement of the lips she also explained that she did not care which of the two jobs she took, that all she cared for at this moment was to find a corner and sink herself into a deep sleep, because, confidentially, that was what she most loved.

Staring incredulously for a moment, the Manager said, “I don’t care in the least what you love! I worked like an animal to find these jobs for you, I did everything, and you have to choose! What would anyone in your place do but choose? Do it now — without any of this ridiculous wavering. Why delay? Choose! The moment you choose, you will be stronger than you are at the present moment; though you might lose something from that moment to this as well. You’re lucky to have a choice in the first place, dammit!”

“Ah—” she fumbled.

“Choose, choose right now, for the love of nonsense! God,” the Manager fumed, stalking across the room, turning away and saying with intense conviction: “There are two things I hate in this world: those who don’t take power when they need to, and those who bend the rules merely for their own comfort. I hate sugar, too,” she added with disgust.

Yet it remained that Dra— could not choose, could do nothing but stare far down the hallway where the Manager’s employees, faces too distant to make out, were softly sorting through enormous boxes of foam wedges.

The Manager went on, angrier than before, “You can’t muster any strength, here, can you: and why not? That’s what I want to know, and it kills me, not knowing why. You are a killer, practically; and a killer of choice, too. Why? You are preternaturally lazy, but it’s more than that. It’s eerie, that’s what it is. You’re out of touch with things, and I want to know why.” She paused, then said with more reserve, “Well, don’t worry, we can find out more about you later, with the help of your Administrator and her tools.”

The Manager extended her bare heel on the floor, then her toe, before slumping her narrow shoulders in the face of Dra—’s silence and sighing out with great weariness, “Listen! Oh, listen,” the scent of her breath complex and troublesome, most likely due to the tremendous strain of this interview, Dra— thought.

“I’m going to let it slide away for the moment,” the Manager was saying, “because the most important thing is for you to settle into a job, any job at all. I’ll choose for you — how do you like that? And for now, we’ll pretend that you made the decision yourself. I said, how do you like that?”

Dra— broke into a sloppy grin as warmth flooded through her, and tears seeped weakly from her eyes as she nodded in pleasure toward the Manager, who looked away with distaste. Sitting at her desk, the Manager then began to search through a large, messy lower drawer.

Several minutes passed, and, still rooting through the papers, the Manager leaned an arm over to unlatch the office gate, motioning with her fingers for Dra— to step behind the counter.

With utter disbelief, Dra— moved through the gate, a floating sensation in her head, and once she stood inside, she tapped at the old wooden countertop and its numerous lower shelves stacked with handsaws just to make certain they were real, since it was so very unusual, unheard of, really, to be invited inside an office gate of any sort; and such an invitation might mean all kinds of things, even the least personal of these being enormously enticing. Standing there, now running her palms across her bristly hair, rattled and excited by everything that had happened, she admitted to the Manager in a burst of pent-up breath how much she was looking forward to her new job, whatever it turned out to be, because she loved the very idea of jobs and steady work, and loved the fact that the world existed just as it did, this world of vast job possibilities and comforting bylaws, and that it was only a temporary nervousness that had prevented her from choosing — for the chance to choose made her feel so important that she had grown dumbfounded and overcome. But the very prospect of having a job signified a vivid turnaround: it meant that life was falling into shape, albeit at this dreadfully late date, but still, she would soon find her niche in life — and while she spoke, she made a mental note to ask the Manager, a few moments hence, for permission to use one of the low, bare toilets along the side wall of the department, since she wanted more than anything to be able to relax, and do all necessary things.