The Circle
community. She left her
camera on.
She made the drive in less than two hours and it was only midnight when she arrived.
She was wired from the trip, from her nerves on constant alert, and needed relaxation,
and distraction. She went to CE, knowing there she could be useful and that there,
her efforts would be appreciated, immediately and demonstrably. She entered the building,
looking briefly up at the slow-turning Calder, and rose through the elevator, breezed
across the catwalk and to her old station.
At her desk, she saw a pair of messages from her parents. They were still awake, and
they were despondent. They were outraged. Mae tried to send them the positive zings
she’d seen, messages that celebrated that an older couple, dealing with MS no less,
could still be sexually active. But they weren’t interested.
Please stop
, they asked.
Please, no more
.
And they, like Mercer, insisted that she cease to contact them unless privately. She
tried to explain to them that they were on the wrong side of history. But they weren’t
listening. Mae knew that eventually she’d convince them, that it was only a matter
of time, for them and for everyone—even Mercer. He and her parents had been late to
get PCs, late to buy a cellphone, late to everything. It was comical and it was sad,
and it served no purpose, to put off the undeniable present, the unavoidable future.
So she would wait. In the meantime, she opened the chute. There were few people with
pressing needs at that hour, but there were always unanswered queries waiting for
business hours to start, so she figured she could chip away at the load before the
newbies came in. Maybe she’d finish them all, stun everyone, let them come in with
a clean slate, an empty chute.
There were 188 latent queries. She’d do what she could do. A customer in Twin Falls
wanted a rundown of all the other businesses visited by customers who had visited
his. Mae found the information easily and sent it to him, and instantly she felt calmer.
The next two were easy, boilerplate answers. She sent surveys and got 100s on both.
One of them sent her a survey in return; she answered it and was done in ninety seconds.
The next few queries were more complicated but she kept her rating at 100. The sixth
was more complicated still, but she answered it, got a 98, followed up and brought
it to a 100. The client, a heating/air-conditioning advertiser from Melbourne, Australia,
asked if he could add her to his professional network and she readily agreed. That’s
when he realized she was Mae.
THE Mae
? he typed. His name was Edward.
Can’t deny it
, she answered.
I’m honored
, Edward typed.
What time is it there? We’re just finishing our workday here
. She said it was late. He asked if he could add her to his mailing list, and again
she readily agreed. What followed was a quick deluge of news and information about
the insurance world of Melbourne. He offered to make her an honorary member of the
MHAPB, the Melbourne Heating and Air-Conditioning Providers Guild, formerly the Melbourne
Heating and Air-Conditioning Providers Brotherhood, and she said she would be flattered.
He added herto the friends on his personal Circle profile, and asked that she reciprocate. She
did.
Gotta get back to work now
, she wrote,
say hello to all in Melbourne!
She felt, already, all of the madness of her parents, of Mercer, evaporating like
mist. She took the next query, which came from a pet grooming chain based in Atlanta.
She got a 99, followed up, got back a 100, and sent six other surveys, five of which
the client answered. She took another query, this one from Bangalore, and was in the
middle of amending the boilerplate to the query when another message came through
from Edward.
Did you see my daughter’s request?
he asked. Mae checked her screens, looking for some request from Edward’s daughter.
Eventually he clarified that his daughter had a different last name, and was in school
in New Mexico. She was raising awareness of the plight of bison in the state, and
was asking Mae to sign a petition and mention the campaign in whatever forums she
could. Mae said she would try, and quickly sent a zing about it.
Thank you!
Edward wrote, followed, a few minutes later, by a thank-you from his daughter, Helena.
I can’t believe Mae Holland signed my petition! Thanks!
she wrote. Mae answered three more queries, her rating
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