"Whatever
shall I do with my time?"
The Manager swung his hands apart and then together in loud clap, as he
always did to change the subject. "By the way, your mother called.
She said to call her back immediately."
"When did she call?"
The Manager leveled a mischievous stare at Tom and quoted the
following: "'He tampered in God's domain!'"
"But that was seventy minutes ago!" The closing line, in fact, of
"Bride of the Monster". Woodian dialog had become part of Tom's
internal clock. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I had to give Neoldner a hand threading 'Plan 9', and I forgot all
about it. Sorry!"
Tom heard Criswell begin his parting words, figured to hell with it,
and abandoned his post in order to use the phone in the employee's
lounge. It had been a storage room until just recently, when the
Manager had redecorated it with a host of kitschy sale items from Osco.
Good intentions, perhaps, but the room was only big enough for two
people to begin with, and a hypothetical third could only find space
through acts of physical intimacy which would have been rendered
impossible by the decor.
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