Truth or Fiction Thursday – The Cleaner

The first day on her new job, Sharon was joined by her officemate, Marisol. A Spanish beauty, Marisol swept into the office bringing with her the scent of warm, ripe cherries. She wore bright colors and hummed a tune, at least, until Sharon caught her eye.

“You’re new,” her voice a questionable lilt with a hint of accent.

“Sharon McMurtry,” she extended her hand shyly. “And yes, I am new.”

Marisol was gracious and took her hand. She seemed cautious, guarded. After a second rise and fall of their dainty hands, Marisol jerked her hand away from Sharon, “You’re not alone?”

Sharon shrugged her shoulders, looked around the room, and then looked back at Marisol, “Huh?”

Marisol retreated quickly, like if she remained close to Sharon much longer she might fade into the fluorescent light of their office never to be seen again.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon said, “did I say something wrong?”

Marisol didn’t say anything. She glanced over her shoulder at Sharon as she left what would be their office.

What the hell did I do? Sharon was upset by Marisol’s reaction. She had hoped more than anything to make fast friends and find some distraction from her current circumstances. Disappointed, she sat at her desk and started reading through the stack of orientation paperwork that had to be completed before she could officially begin work.

Sharon was lost in the red tape and didn’t bother to look up from her paperwork until she sensed someone walked into the office. Thinking it was Marisol, Sharon said in a flipant tone without looking up to verify, “So, I’m so bad I chased you right out of here?”

When there was no reply, she looked up and met eyes with a tall, thin, redhead. She would be beautiful if it weren’t for the stark contrast between her bright auburn hair and her pale, almost translucent skin. “Oh, I’m sorry,” Sharon smiled. “I thought you were Marisol. I’m Sharon.”

The young woman returned Sharon’s smile, “Candice. You’re new.”

“People keep pointing that out.”

Candice looked at her shoes, “It’s obvious, you know.”

“No. I guess I don’t,” she said trying to avert her attention back to the papers in front of her.

“Marisol is scared to come back in here.”

Disturbed by the notion that someone was afraid to be around her, Sharon couldn’t help but question, “Why? What the hell did I do to her?”

“Oh, please don’t misunderstand, Sharon. You’re new.”

“I know!” she barked. “And what exactly does that have to do with the price of tea in China?”

“You’re not clean,” Candice responded, the corner of her mouth turning up in a grin. “Yet.”

“Candice, I don’t mean to be rude, but what the exactly does that mean?”

“Marisol is a medium. The reason she won’t come back in here is because someone is attached to you. You’re not alone.”

“What?” Sharon couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Attached to me? Not alone? What is wrong with you people?”

Candice twitched at Sharon's latest insult, “Look Sharon, it’s not us with the problem. It’s not us who Marisol is afraid to be around. It’s you!”

“But why?” she said a little softer, frustrated tears welling up in her eyes.

“All she told me was that there is someone very dark attached to you and until he was gone she couldn’t be in the same space.”

“He?”

“Yes, the presence is male.”

“Are you clairvoyant too?” Sharon couldn’t help but ask.

“I am.”

“And,” she hesitated, “why aren’t you afraid?”

“Because I’m the cleaner.”

Sharon took one step back and tripped on the caster foot of her tall, black office chair, forcing her to fall into the seat.

It’s your turn. Dare to finish the story. What are Sharon’s “circumstances”? What happened next? She’s having a bad enough first day, what could happen, right? Do she and Marisol end up sharing an office? Does she emerge clean? Who is the “he” attached to her?

Until tomorrow, I look forward to hearing your creative ideas and remain a medium, or not a medium (it’s truth or fiction day after all) and Unstoppable.