Taken Away Part I & II

Celeste Richardson or ‘Monae’ for short, alarm clock startled her before both eyes regrettably opened. It was a Wednesday morning and the sun had not risen yet. She had tapped the snooze button several times before attempting to get out of bed. It was almost fall but the leaves were not changing colors yet, just borderline between summer and fall. She turned her head left then right to glance around the room that happened every morning, to confirm her whereabouts. When it was discovered that she was where she needed to be her awareness settled down. “Time to wake up,” she grimaced under her breath.
Her bedroom with its satin sheets and silk pillow cases added to her comfort while in bed. The extra pillows underneath her were for leg and back support. Her back was bothering her the night before, which only added to the painstaking trip she made last night. She went to Bed, Bath & Beyond to get a back support for her chair at work. ‘Oh this will be nice,” she thought. It looked different online than in person however the price was very affordable. It was made to fit standard office chairs such as the ones with roller wheels at the bottom, rotates at a 360 degree angle, and can be moved vertical or horizontal with a pull of a lever usually on the right-hand side of the chair.
Wednesday mornings seemed to take a toll on Celeste because it was during the middle of the week that Gerald would visit her after work. Although she was excited, she was not thrilled to see him with her back in this condition. Usually her back would hurt occasionally, but now since the fall is near, the pain seems to come at excruciating levels. As she has all these thoughts running through her head, she slowly pulls the sheets away, head towards the mahogany bathroom, and looks in the mirror. She recites the line from Alice in Wonderland “Mirror, mirror on the wall whose the prettiest of them all,” and manages to smile slightly.
At thirty three, her health should be at its max, however her only weakness was her back, which hindered her bedroom performance not to mention gym routines. She still managed to exercise, but had to stretch for at least fifteen minutes before a workout session. Zumba was her ideal exercise at the gym on Tuesdays at 6:30 pm. It lasted about one hour with high impact dances that were fun to imitate with the instructor.
While brushing her teeth in a circular motion, she reached for the faucet’s cold water handle and twisted it in a clockwise motion to signal a semi slow water current. She took the toothbrush and rinsed it out after two minutes of brushing. Her Colgate toothbrush had soft bristles as to not interfere or harm her gums. She smiled in the elongated mirror again beginning to wake up out of her trance. The Flexoral was still in her system managing to subdue her pain from an accident two years ago by a drunk driver.
She turned to her right to look for a towel in her linen closet, and then turned around, walked with a slight limp to the bathtub to take a shower. Her shower faucet was silver with a shower handle that was multiused for the tub or shower. A turn clockwise would cause a flow of natural tap water flowing directly to a pop up or down drain stopper. The faded purple tub fit well with the tiles of the same color. She turned the faucet somewhere in the midrange to get a warm feeling from the shower head. It was very relaxing. “Refreshing,” she thought as she went into another dimension if only for a couple of minutes.
The bath towel was nearby as soon she stepped out of the shower located on the right. The towel was long enough to be a beach towel with its abstract pattern of leopard spots, but with florescent colors instead. It was a little chilly outside however the house temperature stayed at 65 degrees, which was turned up to 70 due to autumn approaching. Her curved body lusting for air got the attention it deserved from the towel resting upon her breasts and hanging down as if someone was holding a ragdoll. She glanced at the clock from the bathroom, it was 6:15 am, and she quickly hurried to dress herself. She had overslept.
After grabbing her keys, with only six that were worth using, she managed to curl her curly black hair within 15 minutes. She looked in the mirror at an image so wonderful but in high school it was a different story and then
………..she begin daydreaming
“Aww, look at that. She’s gonna cry. Cry baby, cry,” Jimmy Horton said as he was around his group of so-called followers.
Celeste began sobbing not knowing what would happen next. She was covered in pie shells by the bully who had teased her since 3rd grade. It was apple, sweet but in this case, it was shameful and embarrassing. Jimmy threw another pie at her just missing inches away from her face.
“You ugly duckling, stand still,” he said with one hundred percent sarcasm.
She looked around then glanced at her clothing that were ruined by the whip cream from the fast action toss of the apple pie. She quickly ran from the crowd of teenagers with her friend Rebecca trailing her heading toward the bathroom inside of the school. It was about 11:13 am and the fair would end around 1:00 pm, which she intended not to partake in the rest of the festivities.
Jimmy and his crew were laughing the whole time and cracking jokes about her. The school’s volunteers’ witnessed the event and stopping it would do no good because Celeste ran before anyone could get to her aid. Ms. McCall asked the students what happened and got no response. Till Bakeman, a gossiper pointed to Jimmy, “That’s the one.” He did this due to the many nuances that Jimmy had pulled on him.
Celeste was met with Rebecca in the bathroom then Ms. McCall entered right after. “Are you okay, Celeste,” her teacher asked. She was still in a pouty mood. Embarrassment was becoming a natural for her as far Jimmy was in the picture. “I slipped and fell but I’m okay,” she lied. She was relentless to tell the truth for her next thrashing from Jimmy would be much worst.
“No, no dear. I heard from the volunteers that Jimmy threw a pie at you. Is this true?”
“Sort of,” she hesitated while rinsing her hands in the faucet. “I think he was just playing.”
Ms. McCall was very upset and demanded that she would handle the situation. “I will take care of this. For now, you can work at the egg drop station.” She knew Celeste was afraid of Jimmy who had been named in other misdemeanors on school grounds.
Running to the door and jumping in her Honda Civic 2001 LX she scurried about searching for her ignition key. Her fingernails sometimes were in the way of retrieving the right key. She had her nails manicured last week that resembled a ruby red color. She stuck the key in the ignition, twisted it and it cranked, thank God. Her Honda was about 11 years old and it had problems compared to her Accura MDX. About a month ago, it completely collapsed blowing out a fuse from one of electronic chips. She had a great mechanic and it was great now that it was fixed.


In the Morning Part II
Celeste quickly backed out of her driveway being cautious not to dismantle the flowers that were deteriorating along with the dandelions. “Oooops,” she said as she ran over some of them. The drive way was assigned by the Home Association with the number of townhouse in the parking space. It had solid white lines that were similar to the sides of roads to separate the spaces. If a visitor was caught occupying a space it would be a traumatic experience not only for the visitor, but for the person assigned to the spot. There were visitor spaces but a distance away from the normal townhouses.
After backing out, she put it in drive and hit 40 mph down the small stretch of road. She made a series of turns until she reached the main highway. As usual with living near the busiest areas of Virginia the traffic was horrible. Highway 395 was not any better even with all the bridges that were being built. If you had to be at work by 8:00 am you had to leave your house between 5:30 – 6:00 am or you wouldn’t make it. Those were one of the morning decisions that played along in her head always hoping to never get in an accident. She was late driving into the parking lot with no time to spare.
The District with its many confusing one-way roads and stop lights at almost every corner was busy controlling cars and pedestrians. Vendors along the streets were always congested in the mornings and during lunch. There were usually the worker bees then the retirees, with the exception of some homeless groups strolling by shelters, roaming around the streets of Washington, DC. For those who were retired they would take a morning walk or jog to get themselves going. Couriers who rode bicycles were popular among many of the companies, because they were paid less than regular service couriers. Usually a courier would deliver something right away to its destination.
As Celeste pocketed her keys leaving her Honda in a gated parking garage, she was trying to think if she had left something at home. Hopefully I have everything I need with me, she thought. Although that was not the case, she left her lunch that was sitting in the refrigerator at home, her ID badge, her favorite pen and a Snickers. The Snickers was a snack that she didn’t practice eating often. The access badge was crucial of all the items due to its value entering & exiting the building.
She was in a frantic. Her face was flushed, her eyes were dizzy, and her teeth clinched only for a second. The draft from the wind was chilly in the mornings and fair during the evenings. Her charcoal gray dress suit with a white blouse closed at the neck, along with sheer stockings was blowing in the wind. She also wore 4-inch leather high heels that resembled spaghetti straps near the ankles. She was conservative yet professional with just a hint of sexy. She closed her jacket so nothing would fly out of her black and gray Coach purse. She saved at least three months before she could purchase her $750 purse.
The Security guard looked at Celeste as if she had stolen something. “Can I help you mam?” as he was looking for any sudden moves.
“I forgot my badge this morning. Can I call upstairs to have someone escort me?” with a frustrating voice.
“Sure, you can use this phone, but I need to see some type of identification.”
She looked in her purse and happily discovered that her driver’s license was in her small billfold. She handed it to him with confidence. “Here you go.” She hesitated then dialed Dave’s number hoping to get him on the line. Dave answered and offered to escort her up with an incentive for dinner, but that was how he joked around. Dave had a crush on Celeste, but he was the assistant for her boss, which would not sit well with her counterparts. Dave had been working there at least 6 years and counting and was one of the go-to people in the office.
Dave walked down as usual as if he had orchestrated his actions, spoke with the guard briefly, and then walked toward Celeste. He spoke and happily escorted her through gate using his badge. For now he had the power or at least that’s what he thought. “Hi Celeste, you still didn’t answer my question about dinner,” as he smiled with a very exuberant tone. Celeste laughed as she always did at his monotonic jokes and kept moving toward the elevator. The door open and there was a beeping sound to inform riders that the elevator was present. The elevator was large enough to hold 15 people with its weight capacity at 3,000 lbs.
To avoid the mundane awkward quietness of the elevator, Celeste begin small talk, “How are you doing today, Dave? There were other onlookers in the elevator that paid no attention to either one of them. “Did anything interesting happen at the Banquet on Monday? Her back begin to ache just a smidge when the elevator started its engine going up to the 13th floor. She lost her bearing shifting her weight to her left leg. “Are you okay?” Dave caught her just before answering her question.
“I’m fine. My back has not doing so well lately. I took my medication but when it wears off, the agony.” “Well, I’m sure it will get better over time. Just keep taking your medicine. I could rub it for you if you want?” he said with a big smile.
She forced a smile pretending to be okay. “No that won’t be necessary,” as she regained her posture. She thought it would nice to be wear her high heels today given the fact that she hadn’t wore them in a while since the pain come and goes with her back. She felt bold and confident. Twenty Flexoral pills were prescribed for her back pain. There were no refills. She would have to make another appointment as if she was plea bargaining for her addiction. Instead she pulled out two 200 mg Ibuprofens and a small bottled water. In her left hand were the Ibuprofen grasped tightly while opening the bottled water quickly to get the rewards of its effects.
Ding, the bell ranged at the thirteenth floor enabling several professionals to walk off after stopping 2 or 3 times for other mystery floors. To have access to some floors you had to have a special badge. The color codes were significant in determining where one should be. She tapped the shoulder of several people as if she was bullying her way through the crowd giving several pardon me’s before getting off the elevator. Dave had done the same. Once off the elevator she made an immediate left walked about 200 feet and was stationary behind Dave in front the Office. The hallway was not so crowded at 8:25 am because most professionals were already at work at least in her office.
Dave used his badge to enter the office, but you could see his desk at the front as soon as you walked in. His phone rang as usual and he rushed over to his desk to catch it. Once Celeste was in interoffice of the building she was able to walk to her desk on her own, however could not walk in the halls without an escort. The office was busy as usual with staffers roaming around, meetings in both conference rooms, and a press conference was going on in her boss’s office. Dean Mahlovich, her boss, head of NAG magazine, was well known throughout Virginia for his prevalent messages in the introductory page of each issue. Celeste was allowed to call him ‘Mic’ for short but others would refer to him as Dean. If outsiders were visiting, his title would be Mr. Mahlovich. This was protocol for all his staff members.
Celeste reached her cherry redwood desk all with a 17 inch HP color monitor, a keyboard, and a computer tower waiting to be accessed. Her small pinkish mug with a handle was sitting exactly where she left it from yesterday, on top of her daily agenda. She sat down slowly and looked at her phone for messages. There were two messages left. I wonder who that could be she thought. She scrolled the missed calls and one of the numbers was unfamiliar to her. She wondered if Gerald called her from another number.