smiled.
He winced, grimaced, and lifted anger for a shield. What was he supposed to do? Be damned if he’d have this mess machine in his house any longer; and the pound would hardly commence ‘ business till nine or ten o’clock, by which time he must be well into the paperwork that the Deere representative had caused him to fall be-THE KITTEN
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hind on; and Somebody would find the creature and do something. Or if not, too many stray cats and dogs were running loose.
Thus the kitten sat on the front seat by him when he drove off, happy till he stopped, several miles from home, opened the right door, and tossed the animal out. It landed on its feet, unhurt though squeaking dismay. The sidewalk must indeed be frigid this morning, hard, barren. Beyond reached a municipal park, snowcrust, leafless boughs, benches like fossil monsters.
The kitten headed back for the car. “Oh, no, you don’t,” Thonen growled. He slammed the door, refastened his safety belt, and took off fast. His rear view mirror showed him a forlorn spot on the pavement; then soon that was gone.
“Nuts, I did more than could be expected,” he said under his breath. What a miserable day. The chill had struck into his bones. Blast from the heater passed across him, useless as the first wan sunlight outside. “When I’ve got a tough job, and my wife’s quit on me, and nobody gives an honest shit whether I live or die”
No, wait, he told himself, don’t whine. And don’t be unrealistic. You matter to several people, at least. Your superiors want you where you are, fattening their bank accounts; your subordinates want you gone, out of the way of their advancement. It’s forever Number One. Or Number Una? I thought I had an oasis of warmth in her, but she only wanted support while she sifted the dust of people three thousand years cold in death.
To hell with her. Let’s see, this is Wednesday.
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The Unicorn Trade
SaturdayI can wait till then, I’m not hot now, busy as I amI’ll run up to the city, a massage parlor, yeah, a straightforward transaction, cash for sex. “Cold as a whore’s heart,” the saying goes. Why not? Next time around, I’ll marry more carefully.
The plant bulked like a squared-off glacier, its parking lot a moraine where as yet few cars were piled. Tronen hurried to the main door. The night watchman said, “Good morning, sir,” in a mechanical tone, different from his usual heartiness. For a second Tronen thought: What ails Joe? Problems too? I should take time to askNo. He doesn’t care about me, does he?
The corridors hollowly echoed his footfalls. His office, paneled and picture-hung by specialists, seemed more hospitable at first. Then its stillness got to him and, for some ridiculous reason, the icicles that hung from a window frame. He turned the thermostat higher. When he settled back at his desk, the papers crackled in his fingers till he thought of frozen puddles underfoot.
“Good morning, Mr. Tronen,” said his secretary when she arrived at nine. “My! Downright tropical in here.”
“What?” He blinked at her trimness. “I’m comfortable,” he said. That wasn’t quite true; he still was wearing the jacket he normally discarded when working solo.
She went to the thermometer. “Eighty degrees?” Catching his glare: “Whatever you say, Mr. Tronen. I’m mostly beyond your door any-
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way, of course. Butexcuse medo you feel well? You look awfully tired.”
“I’ll do,” he grunted. “Here,” handing her a sheaf, “answer these according to my notes. I want the letters in the noon mail pickup.”
“Yes, sir.” Though respectful, she seldom used that honorific. Had he rebuffed her? Who cared?
His chief of operations came in at midmorning. “Uh, Leo, the John Deere mannot Gustafson; Kruchek, who Gustafson reports to, you rememberhe was just on the line. And the questions he was asking about our quality control procedures . .. Well, I don’t know about that subcontract now, Leo. I don’t.”
The union steward came in at midafternoon. “Mr. Tronen, you’ve explained to me how inflation means we’ve got to cut corners, and I guess I sympathize, and I’ve passed your word on to the boys. But the heating in the shop is inadequate. This’ll likely be a dog-cold winter, and if you postpone making good on your promise to replace the whole system, I’m afraid you’ll have a strike on your hands.”