The
alarm dragged Toby out of his dream, and it had been one he was really
enjoying. He groggily threw back the covers and plodded toward the freezing
bathroom. He washed and dressed in silence, before going to the tiny kitchen to
boil the kettle. He turned on the radio to chase the emptiness from the
apartment and wondered how he had called this place home for two years.
At
ten to eight, he entered his drab office-block and waited for the elevator. A
second after the doors closed, he got the lingering stink of a fart and tried
to hold his breath for the five-floor ride. He failed on floor three and choked
on the fumes. When the door opened, a woman was waiting to get on. Toby hurried
away knowing she’d think he was responsible for the horrible stench. It was a
typical start to another day as an intern.
The
offices of Phoenix International were an open-plan sea of desks. Despite the
grandeur of the company name, it was nothing more than a telemarketing company.
He and the rest of the minions spent all day, every day, calling unsuspecting
people, trying to get them to upgrade, switch, or invest, in whatever rubbish
they had been hired to sell. Toby paused at the clock-in machine and rested his
finger on the pad. The thing beeped and his soul was owned for another nine
hours.
Even
though it was early, over half the desks were already occupied. In his
glass-fronted office, Mr Jefferies lounged in his leather executive chair. Toby
started his computer and today’s list of victims appeared. He sighed and pulled
out his script to refresh his spiel. Upgrade to bill pay and get
one-hundred free international minutes, it said.
Ten
past nine and the bell rang for the first time. That God-damn bell. It was one
of Mr Jefferies motivational additions, but in Toby's opinion, it hell
incarnate. Every time someone made a sale, they had to go ring that thing and endure
the forced joy of their co-workers. Toby stood and joined the muted applause,
as a grinning redhead smiled bashfully beside the bell. In his office, Mr
Jefferies looked like a demented seal as he pounded his hands together. Here
it comes, thought Toby. Any second now. On cue, Mr Jefferies mimed
high-fiving the blushing woman. What ridiculous shite.
At
that moment, Suzie scuttled into the cubicle across from Toby's. She powered up
her computer, plopped her headset on, and was already introducing herself to
her first potential victim before she had her coat off. Toby liked Suzie, but
she always seemed to be in a wiz; she had a thousand balls in the air and was
terrified of dropping even one. She was a mom you see, and one without a
partner to help her. The poor girl was constantly exhausted.
Throughout
the morning, the bell clanged occasionally and everyone jumped to their feet
like Pavlov’s dogs. Most people Toby called told him to go f**k himself, or
some more polite version of that sentiment. That was tough, particularly when
his wage was linked to the number of calls he made, and the number of sales he
achieved. In contrast to Mr Jefferies' celebration of sales, Philippa from
accounts seemed to resent every cent that went into a pay-packet. The
penny-pinching administrator paused as she passed Suzie desk and said, “Fifteen
minutes late, again, Miss Granger.”
“I
know, it was my son’s…”
“Excuses
won’t cut any mustard with me, Miss Granger. A note will be added to your
file,” she said shrilly and began to walk away. As an afterthought, she added,
“And the loss of your first hour, of course.”
Toby
bristled. He knew the note meant nothing; all Philippa cared about was getting
forty-five free minutes of work from an employee. It all transferred to the
bottom line; pure profit. If Suzie was late every single day, they would keep
employing her and keep sucking her hours away. It was just another scam.
Stuff
like that got right on Toby's wick. Anyone could see that she was doing her
best, and achieving a hell of a lot more than most. Philippa should be thanking
her, not looking for every opportunity to turn the screw a bit tighter. Not that
that would never happen. Philippa and Mr Jefferies knew when they had someone
by the short and currlies, and they loved twisting those bad-boys.
At
twelve forty, Mr Jefferies appeared over Toby’s shoulder and said,
“Brain-drain. My office. In five,” before sauntering away. Brain-drain? The
man was so steeped in management lingo he’d lost the ability to use the English
language. Toby looked at his watch and cursed. That was his lunch break gone, and
more importantly, he’d miss Joan.
He
gathered a pen and jotter then followed the boss. The brain-drain turned out to
be a long-winded rant by Mr Jefferies, bemoaning the new targets set by head
office. Philippa chipped in with bolstering comments from time to time but Toby
didn't speak even once. After a while, there was a knock at the door and Joan’s
smiling face appeared.
“Would anyone like to order something?” she asked, nodding toward the basket of
sandwiches and buns slung over her arm. Toby felt his heart race and a blush
sprang to his cheeks but Mr Jefferies beat him to the punch.
“We’re
all good here,” he said, and continued with his commentary. Joan slipped out
and the only light in Toby’s life vanished for another day. The meeting ended
at two and Toby knew he’d never make his call quota today. That ment he would
only take-home sixty percent of his wage. He’d be better off on the dole.
Despite the pointlessness of it, he picked up his phone and dialled the next
number on his list.
At
five-forty-five, he putting on his jacket but then the phone rang. He picked it.
“Glad
I caught you, Toby. I need you to do a little job for me,” he said. Toby could hear
road noise in the background and he knew the boss was already on the way home.
Inside
he winced, but heard himself say, “Sure.”
“There
is a guy coming over to upgrade the computers. Can you hang on a few minutes
till he’s done?”
“I
was just on my way out,” he said.
“The
road to the top is a tough one, Toby. If you can’t put the needs of the company
…”
“No.
It’s fine. I can wait,” he said. This job was a shitty one but it was the only
one he had.
“I
knew I could count on you. See you in the morning. Oh, and one more thing. You
better clock out to keep the rosters straight.” he said and hung up.
“Shit,”
said Toby, and slammed the handset into the cradle. His stomach growled and he
knew it was going to be empty for a while. He went to the fingerprint pad and
pressed his digit to it. The machine beeped and he was off the clock, but still
trapped. The office was completely empty by the time the computer guy turned
up.
“Sorry
I’m late,” said the guy, struggling under a tonne of cases.
“It’s
fine. Let me take some of those,” said Toby.
“Cheers,”
said the guy handing over a bag filled with tools then extended his hand
saying, “I'm Moggs, nice to meet you.”
“Toby,”
he replied and shook the man’s hand. Toby liked him already, he had a devilish
twinkle in his eyes.
“Right.
Point me in the direction of the server and let’s get this over and done with.”
Moggs turned out to be as good as his word and worked like lightning. Soon he
had the new programme loading and they had time to chat. It turned out they had
a hell of a lot in common. They were both interns, they were both underpaid,
underappreciated and overworked.
“I’ll
let you in on a secret,” said Moggs.
“I’m
all ears.”
“None
of them really know what's going on.”
“None
of who?”
“The
bosses.”
“Really?”
“Yea.
This little baby is the real power behind the wizard,” he said, patting his
laptop.
“How
do you mean?”
“Every
day, this thing spits out a report and they all take it for gospel. Not one of
them knows enough about the business, or the way the programme works, to know
if the numbers are real or not. They blindly following along behind this
digital Pied Piper.”
“So,
if the computer gets it wrong, they’d never know.”
“Not
unless it goes completely insane. They never see the small things, which is why
we have to do updates. To catch the glitches, you know.”
“It
must be complicated.”
“Na,
not at all. Do you want me to show you?”
“You
don’t mind?”
“Sure,
but keep it to yourself, fair enough?”
“You
can count on it.” For the next hour, Moggs showed him the ins and outs of the
programme. The backdoor log-in, how a few little tweaks here and there could
change the reports, making fantasy become reality. When Toby eventually left
the office, he had an empty stomach and a full brain. He decided it was time to
stick it to Mr Jefferies and his snivelling sidekick Philippa.
The
next morning, when the alarm went off he sprang from the bed, eager to get to
work for the first time in ages. His head buzzed with all the stuff he could do
to show up his boss for the drooling idiot he was. He logged into the
administrator section of the programme, as Moggs had shown him, but there he
stalled. He couldn’t make himself do it. He didn't want to lower himself to the
level of pettiness that Philippa enjoyed. Instead, he opened his call list and
started working.
Suzie
arrived in a panic, as always, and hurriedly began getting her workstation up
and running. “Tough morning?” he asked.
“Terrible.
The bus was late and I had to run all the way from dropping my little fella at
the child-minder and I still didn’t make it on time. I know that witch is going
to dock me another hour, and I can’t afford that. I have to make my quota this
week or I don’t know what I’ll do.”
Toby
nodded and dialled his next number. Later, he opened up the programme and accessed
the payroll section. He selected Suzie timecard and changed her nine-twelve
clock in to eight-fifty-nine. It wasn’t stealing, if anything it was stopping
the company from robbing her. Deep inside he felt a glow of contentment as he
went back to work.
Lunchtime
rolled around and Joan appeared with her basket of goodies. She stopped at
desks, asking people if they wanted to buy something, and Toby's eyes tracked
her like a fox watching a chicken. When she reached his desk, she gave him a
magical smile and asked, "Would you like anything?"
"A
ham roll and a muffin, if you have one," he said with a hitch in his
voice. It must have been his heart clogging up his throat.
"Sure,
Honey," she said, and popped them on his desk. She took his money and
moved on.
"She
called me, Honey," he said to himself and felt a flutter in his chest. She
might call everyone honey, but he didn't care. He never enjoyed a meal so much.
The
rest of the day passed without incident and it was the first time in ages he
felt motivated. Even the clanging of the bell and the pantomime they had to
perform with each ring, failed to annoy him. Before leaving, he logged back
into the administrator programme and looked at Suzie’s calls for the day. She'd
nearly made it, only twenty short and she had skipped her lunch. In Toby’s
mind, she’d worked hard enough to deserve her full day's wage, so with a click
of his mouse, he added thirty-five calls to her total. Toby walked home on
cloud nine.
Over
the following weeks, he continued to make little adjustments here and there as
people deserved them. He helped Suzie keep on track of her attendance, so long
as she wasn’t too late. He added a sale here and there to people who worked
hard but rarely got the credit. He adjusted a few customer feed-back forms to
mention particular people who needed to be recognised for work they did. They
were only tiny little things, and not one of them were done to damage the
company. Actually, he began to notice something unusual. People started getting
happier. The bell rang more often and people started believing that the impossible
targets were possible after all. They all started to approach their customers
with a genuine warmth, and it showed. Mr Jefferies even eased up on them. After
all, he believed this new upward trend in sales was all down to him. But all
that ended the day the email arrived.
Mr
Jefferies came out of his office like a raging bull and stormed up to accounts
in search of Philippa. He reappeared with a trail of worried looking managers
in tow and then the shouting began. The words, E-mail, and, Head
Office, were repeated often and loudly. Deep in Toby's gut he knew
this was something to do with him, so he logged into the server and opened up
Mr Jefferies E mails. In glaring black and white, all his nightmares became
reality. There was an inspection team on their way from the US to investigate, unexplainable
irregularities. Toby knew that meant one thing; they were coming to find
him.
He
kept his head down until five thirty then left the office. His stomach churned
with worry, and no matter what way he looked at things, trouble lay ahead. That
night he didn't sleep a wink and when he turned up the following day, a cloud
of gloom hung over the office. He kept his head down as manager after manager
filed in and out of Mr Jefferies' sanctum. There were two strangers looming
about the place, clearly the American henchmen, and their stony glares did
nothing to dispel that notion. Around eleven, a girl from accounts fled Mr
Jefferies' office in tears. Toby left his cubicle to follow as unobtrusively as
possible. He caught up with her at the lift and stood beside her, pretending to
wait on the doors to open.
"Are
you, OK?" he asked, the girl was trying her best to rub away rivers of
watery mascara.
"No,
I'm not. They're saying someone interfered with the accounts, and they're
trying to pin it on me."
"That's
crazy!"
"I
know! But they don't care. They said I had access codes and they wouldn't
believe that I've never used them."
"Don't
worry too much. I'm sure it will work itself out," he said, earning
himself a stony glare from the girl.
"And
how would you know?" she snapped, before storming away toward the stairs,
giving up on the elevator.
Toby
turned back to the office and knew he had to face the music. He never imagined
that someone else could get in trouble for what he'd done. He went straight to
Mr Jefferies door, knocked, and went in. His boss looked up and barked,
"Can't you see I'm busy, Toby. I'm sure whatever it is can wait."
"I
don't think it can, Sir."
"Well,
spit it out then," snapped his boss, as the two American's talked among
themselves.
"I
know who interfered with the computer." That got the attention of the
strangers, and shocked Mr Jefferies into silence.
"I
think you better take a seat," said one of the Americans.
Once
he was seated, Mr Jefferies said, "Well, who was it then?"
"Me."
"Don't
talk rubbish. You couldn't possibly have done that." Toby sighed and began
telling his story. He told them everything, but left out Moggs’ part in
willingly giving him the ins and outs of the computer system. Instead, he said
he saw the password written down on the paperwork and figured out the rest
himself. When he came to the end of his story, Mr Jefferies jumped to his feet
and roared, "You're finished here! You'll never work in this town again!
I'm calling the police!" His boss looked at the strangers for agreement
but their faces gave nothing away.
"What's
your name again?" asked one of the men.
"Toby."
"This
is a very serious situation," the man said, severely. "You're
suspended pending investigation. I must ask you to leave the office and not
return until you’re contacted. Is that clear?"
"I'll
get my coat," said Toby, his words felt crushed under the wreck he’d
managed to make of his life. What was he going to do now?
"I'll
walk you to the door," said the American. Toby felt like a criminal, and
for the first time, he worried that he might have actually broken the law.
Could he end up behind bars for this? As Toby was escorted from the office,
every eye was on him, including Joan's, who was in the middle of her lunch
round.
All
that night, and most of the next day, he expected a knock on his door and the
feel of handcuffs on his wrists, but neither arrived. What did arrive was a
text saying, Please attend the office for a meeting in the morning. Eleven
am. After reading it, Toby wondered should he pack a bag? He might not see
his flat again for six to twelve months.
When
he arrived at work, he was shown into Mr Jefferies' office where a full
welcoming committee waited. Thankfully, none of them were policemen. Present
were; Mr Jefferies, Philippa, the two Americans, and an empty chair for him.
"Have
a seat," said the American who had done all the talking on the first day.
Toby was feeling a bit faint so he was glad to comply. "I want to start by
saying that we have spoken with all the members of staff who you...assisted,
and they all confirm they were completely in the dark about what you had
done."
Toby
looked around and noted the glare Philippa was sending his way, and Mr
Jefferies' smug look. Whatever was coming was very very bad. The American
continued talking. "We’ve made a full assessment of the changes you made
and found you didn't improve your own sales calls; time card, or any other
aspect of your personal record. Can you tell us why?"
"I
just wanted people to be treated a bit more fairly. I never intended to hurt
the company…or make any money that I hadn’t earned."
"That
is completely out..." shouted Mr Jefferies, but the American held up his
hand and silenced him.
"Are
you referring to yourself, or is it people in general, that were being treated
unfairly?" asked the American.
"Well,
unfairly might be overly strong," he said, not wishing to sound like a
snitch. Mr Jefferies looked like he was about to explode.
"Strangely,
it seems that even after reversing your influence, this office has showed a
marked improvement in productivity over the last few weeks. Record-breaking
even," said the American, as if Mr Jefferies were invisible.
"Purely
coincidental," snipped Philippa.
"I
beg to differ," said the American who’d not yet spoken. Toby noticed the
first man sit back; this was clearly the big boss speaking. "This young
man has done something very stupid, but in doing so he has unearthed an even
more glaring mistake on our behalf," said the man, glowering at Philippa
and Mr Jefferies.
"Mistake,"
snorted Mr Jefferies.
"We,
and by extension, you, forgot that we’re an industry dependent on people. Our
company is run by people, and all of them deserve to be treated with dignity.
Having said that... Toby's actions cannot go unanswered. What I'm suggesting is
a period away from the office for this young man."
"Please
don't send me to prison," sobbed Toby and he failed to hold back his
tears.
"I'm
suggesting nothing of the sort," said the American, his tone softening.
"Then
what are you suggesting," snorted Mr Jefferies, pushing his chair back
from the desk and stapling his hands behind his head.
"I'm
suggesting he comes to the States and works with us in head office for three
months. Then he returns here as office controller."
Toby
couldn't believe his ears.
"You're
rewarding criminality!" yelled Mr Jefferies.
"I'm
rewarding ingenuity, and he didn't steal anything from us, he made our company
stronger!" yelled the American, slamming his fist on the table. The sound
was still reverberating off the walls when Mr Jefferies snapped his mouth
closed. The American turned to Toby and asked with a smile, "You ready to
go back to work?"
"Am
I ever!" said Toby, standing to shake the man's hand, delighted he was not
going to jail.
As
Toby opened the door of Mr Jefferies' office, he could see eyes peering at him
from everywhere. Slowly, Suzie stood up and smiled. Then she began applauding.
One by one, every one of his workmates joined in until the noise was
thunderous. That was when the cheering started. Toby couldn't help himself; he
snatched a scissors from a desk and walked to the bell in the middle of the
room. With one snip the clanger fell into his hand and he held it aloft like a
victorious warrior.
In the midst of the
hoots and hollers, he saw Joan walking away from his desk. When he got there,
he found a muffin and a ham roll waiting for him. On the blotter was a note. It
said, "I love a rebel. Call me." Beside it was her number, and
for Toby, this great day became legendary.
