congratulations.” Harold wondered if the email he’d sent about Rhashan’s possible drug use had gone unread. Perhaps he could send a retraction.
“I have a gift for you.” Rhashan held out a tissue-wrapped bundle.
“That was unnecessary, really.”
“Go on, open it.”
Still feeling guilty about his suspicions, Harold tore off the paper to reveal a thin length of fabric, multi-hued, and gaudy. “A tie. Thanks.” Now he had to advocate for him. Even if he had made some mistakes, the guy seemed genuinely eager to make something of himself.
“Put it on!”
“What? Now?”
“Here.” Rhashan stepped in, and took the tie from the desk where Harold had tossed it. “Take that one off, let’s see how this looks. The color really picks up the red in your hair.”
Harold undid the knot in his gray tie, and slid it off. Rhashan stood behind him and flipped up his collar. He draped the new one around his neck and began working the ends over each other.
“I’ll do it.” Harold usually watched himself in the mirror, but he was able to effect a decent Windsor from memory. “That was very…nice of you.”
“Magnificent.” Rhashan grinned. “My Leesa made this for you last night. She is starting a handcrafted clothing business to make more money while I am in school. She’s very clever.”
It occurred to Harold he was being pitched. “How much do I owe you?”
“No, mon! This is for helping me with the application.”
“Please tell her thank you. I’ll be sure to wear it on special occasions.” He started to remove it, but stopped when Rhashan’s face fell, and so he acted like he was only loosening it. “Um. I hope she makes plenty on the new business.” He tucked the end behind his belt. Longer than the polyblends he usually wore, it was also filmier. And gaudier.
“That’s the spirit.” Rhashan stood admiring the garish tie for a moment, then stepped back into the aisle. “I will see you tomorrow.”
Rashan’s catchy melody earwormed into Harold’s head as he tried to get back to work.
“Love that guy, don’t you?” Millie was passing Harold’s station. “That tune he always whistles, ‘Moondance,’ is one of my favorites. New tie? I like it.” Humming, she returned to her desk.
Midway through the afternoon, Harold sensed someone in the aisle, and turned to see Keith.
“Here’s your new ID. The picture came out well.”
Glad he still had his conservative tie on for the photo, Harold ran a finger over the raised 3D logo in the corner. He hadn’t realized how far back his hairline had receded. He clipped the new one onto the lanyard. “Thanks. No worries.”
“I wanted to tell you…” Keith paced the small space. “I spent my lunch break calling my folks.”
“Oh?”
“That gizmo. The whatchacallit that showed me their faces.” Keith wiped away the sheen that had appeared on his brow. Unusual for the usually stoic man. “But my mom…” His lips thinned, and Harold discreetly glanced away in case Keith wanted to cry or something. “She wants us to visit.”
“That’s fine.” Harold knew what it was like to miss your mom. “I hope you can mend your relationship.”
“I was wondering. How much would you take for that?”
The Kaleidoscope was still nudged up against the stapler where Harold had tossed it earlier.
“I-I’m not sure that’s something I could do.”
“If you change your mind, I will buy it from you.”
“What is it about the ’scope that has you interested in owning it?”
“It has the power to change lives. Maybe even see the future.” Keith’s walkie chirped, and he listened for a moment. “I have to go, but if you change your mind.”
He sprinted out, leaving Harold to wonder what he’d gotten involved in when the mysterious object was forced on him.
“What do you want from me?” He poked at it with a pencil. “What are you?”
“You okay in there, Harold?” Millie called to him.
“I’m all right.” Harold’s
“I have a gift for you.” Rhashan held out a tissue-wrapped bundle.
“That was unnecessary, really.”
“Go on, open it.”
Still feeling guilty about his suspicions, Harold tore off the paper to reveal a thin length of fabric, multi-hued, and gaudy. “A tie. Thanks.” Now he had to advocate for him. Even if he had made some mistakes, the guy seemed genuinely eager to make something of himself.
“Put it on!”
“What? Now?”
“Here.” Rhashan stepped in, and took the tie from the desk where Harold had tossed it. “Take that one off, let’s see how this looks. The color really picks up the red in your hair.”
Harold undid the knot in his gray tie, and slid it off. Rhashan stood behind him and flipped up his collar. He draped the new one around his neck and began working the ends over each other.
“I’ll do it.” Harold usually watched himself in the mirror, but he was able to effect a decent Windsor from memory. “That was very…nice of you.”
“Magnificent.” Rhashan grinned. “My Leesa made this for you last night. She is starting a handcrafted clothing business to make more money while I am in school. She’s very clever.”
It occurred to Harold he was being pitched. “How much do I owe you?”
“No, mon! This is for helping me with the application.”
“Please tell her thank you. I’ll be sure to wear it on special occasions.” He started to remove it, but stopped when Rhashan’s face fell, and so he acted like he was only loosening it. “Um. I hope she makes plenty on the new business.” He tucked the end behind his belt. Longer than the polyblends he usually wore, it was also filmier. And gaudier.
“That’s the spirit.” Rhashan stood admiring the garish tie for a moment, then stepped back into the aisle. “I will see you tomorrow.”
Rashan’s catchy melody earwormed into Harold’s head as he tried to get back to work.
“Love that guy, don’t you?” Millie was passing Harold’s station. “That tune he always whistles, ‘Moondance,’ is one of my favorites. New tie? I like it.” Humming, she returned to her desk.
Midway through the afternoon, Harold sensed someone in the aisle, and turned to see Keith.
“Here’s your new ID. The picture came out well.”
Glad he still had his conservative tie on for the photo, Harold ran a finger over the raised 3D logo in the corner. He hadn’t realized how far back his hairline had receded. He clipped the new one onto the lanyard. “Thanks. No worries.”
“I wanted to tell you…” Keith paced the small space. “I spent my lunch break calling my folks.”
“Oh?”
“That gizmo. The whatchacallit that showed me their faces.” Keith wiped away the sheen that had appeared on his brow. Unusual for the usually stoic man. “But my mom…” His lips thinned, and Harold discreetly glanced away in case Keith wanted to cry or something. “She wants us to visit.”
“That’s fine.” Harold knew what it was like to miss your mom. “I hope you can mend your relationship.”
“I was wondering. How much would you take for that?”
The Kaleidoscope was still nudged up against the stapler where Harold had tossed it earlier.
“I-I’m not sure that’s something I could do.”
“If you change your mind, I will buy it from you.”
“What is it about the ’scope that has you interested in owning it?”
“It has the power to change lives. Maybe even see the future.” Keith’s walkie chirped, and he listened for a moment. “I have to go, but if you change your mind.”
He sprinted out, leaving Harold to wonder what he’d gotten involved in when the mysterious object was forced on him.
“What do you want from me?” He poked at it with a pencil. “What are you?”
“You okay in there, Harold?” Millie called to him.
“I’m all right.” Harold’s
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