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Thu | November 17, 2005

Ava's Escape

Ava had a recurrent dream. She worked at an old building. It had a yellow glow instead of the fluorescence at the office where she worked in real life. She went out on the roof. A moment ago it was day, but out on the roof it was night. There was a playground-- a large plastic playground like the one she never had when she was a kid. At the top of the playground was a red, yellow and blue striped tent. The stripes ran vertically with the pomp of a flag. There was wet rain and a postcard view of the Manhattan skyline. She passed the playground. She went to the edge of the roof and --woke up.

Withdrawl. That is my method, she thought to herself, as she pushed 3, 5, 8 to get into the bathroom. I invite condescension. I bring it on myself. It's in the way I carry myself. Open, just waiting for someone to stab me. She looked down as she undid her grey plaid pants with the pink and yellow cross-hatches. As she sat on the toilet, she smoothed out the pink ribbon that served as a belt. She did not need to go to the bathroom. She had gone there to think.

What makes Jen so great? She doesn't fool me for a second. I don't believe she's accomplished anything. I haven't either-- but at least I don't act like I'm so great. Ava wished she was a squirrel. She wished she worked at McDonald's. She wished life was simpler. She wished she was ugly and dumb. The ugly and dumb were never expected to do things. She was cute and smart. Everyone assumed that everything about her was peachy. She looked at her cute outfit and thought perhaps it was not such a good outfit. It made her look like a nice girl. On top she wore a cream cardigan. Her hair was in french braids. There was no one to look cute for. There were only people to look vulnerable to.

I bring it on myself. I act happy even when I'm not. I act happy especially when I'm not.

She had gone over to Mark's cubicle. Mark had always been nice to her. He had often caught her up in his girlish energy. He was tall and wore close-fitting black shirts. They looked plain and casual but they were very expensive.

"Hi," Ava said.

"Hi," said Mark. But he didn't look up. He flipped through his papers as if he were concentrating on finding something. Ava walked away.

She had almost gone to Nicole. Nicole was the office pariah. Her body was like a twig, like the letter K. She scurried around like a confused ant. She started every sentence twice. No one had the patience to talk to her. As beaten as Ava was, Nicole was abused even more-- and openly. Was there a word for this, Ava wondered? It was not shadenfreude. That was pleasure at seeing others suffer. She wanted a word that meant the relief you feel that someone is worse off than you.

Ava had nowhere to go so she went to the bathroom.

"I don't do the cataloging," Jen had said a few weeks ago, as if it were a low thing to do. Ava had been doing just that for the past several months. And now Jen had ruined the credibility of her current project. It would not matter what Ava did. Whatever it was would acquire a tinge of worthlessness because of how Jen spoke of it. Jen was above everything; thus Jen did nothing-- nothing but erode the reputation of Ava. All she did was judge and make everything good into bad. She was like Midas but worse. Everything she touched turned to shit.

Ava estimated that she had been gone about twenty minutes. She thought of what she would say when she got back. She would try and pretend nothing had happened. But during her time in the bathroom stall the emotions had built up in her, rather than subsided. She thought she might cry. She would say she felt sick and take the rest of the day off.

She left the bathroom and thought of something else. Instead of going back, she went into the stairwell. She had never been in the stairwell. Up and up she went. She went as quickly as she could, not noticing how far up she went. The exertion relieved her frustration and she kept going. As she neared the top she remembered her dream. She had never remembered it before. She had only thought, right after she woke up, that she had had it before. And then she forgot it.

It came to her as she got to the top and saw the black door with a bar and a wheel. She tried to remember if that was the door in her dream but she didn't know. She put her hand on the door and felt its coolness. It was locked.

She returned to her cubicle. No one had noticed she was even gone.

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