Audrey the Costumier

In my own way, I am a superhero.  At this point in my journey and the journey of my enterprise, our struggles have gone unnoticed.  We are the unsung heroes to the actual heroes that display our creations.  Over the years, it would be a burden to say how many exactly it has been, I have built an empire on the visual aspect of the superhero.  I could go on for days on the talents and sacrifices my company takes each day, the hours of work and sweat they put into everything they do, the creation design and redesign of each garment, the scars that remind us of our accomplishments, so much so that it could be its own anthology.  But that would defeat the purpose of this tale, which revolves around Audrey, the oddest costumier I’ve come across, and I’ve come across many oddballs.  Such an oddball Audrey was that no secondhand account could suffice, mainly because even those who knew her did not gather enough to make a full story.  Any interactions I had with Audrey are the only information I possess of her.
But to understand her talents, you must know more about our entire establishment and where all our thrilling work takes place to give an even deeper look into the leading costumier of this tale.
I am the heir to the most notable makers of superhero costumes.  They would be nothing if it were not for the craftsmanship we put into their attire.  I like to think of every person saved by a hero in one of our designs as one of my own children, though I myself have never had any kids or been married.  But these after all they would not be alive if we had not strategically constructed their garb.  A superhero is nothing without his secret identity.  And that is where I come in.
I’m the most easy going, yet hardest working boss you’ll find anywhere.  I like to think that I’m a type of mentor to my employees, they come to me with their problems work related and personal; they share with me all the delightful parts in their lives.  I even get invited to go out with them now and then, and I take it, because I don’t see myself as a boss, but a friend.
We are a unit; if one falls we all fall, except myself of course because I’m not listed in the same status as the rest of them; if they were to fall, I would be in another part of the lair, but I would send flowers, because that’s the type of boss I am.
The Chateau le Fee is the finest establishment west of the Atlantic Ocean, I would even risk saying even farther than an ocean can block.  I will not divulge the location of our institution because the secrecy is part of the magic we create.  I will however, reveal that we are located among the scrolling green plains north of the busiest superhero capital known as New York City.  You would not know what business goes on in our company, because just like our clients, we operate under the most secretive environment.  Most likely, you have already been to where our business takes place probably on an elementary school field trip; that is because we operate out of the Hall of Greatness, a museum of sorts that houses memorabilia, exhibits and all other trinkets of past superheroes; all on display for the general public.
Now you may wonder why I am divulging this information to you, giving away our location, any villain could read this tale and destroy our entire operations, but they will never find us; that is because we our guarded within the building, through secret passages and solid protective steel walls perfectly camouflaged by the amazing vintage décor the Hall of Greatness is known for.  Miles of the softest carpet, perfectly dyed red of course, since that is the most popular of colors for the average superhero.  Giant paintings of past and great heroes line the hallways, hundreds of rooms each with a different theme; the flying hero, the otherworldly hero, the deep sea hero, and of course the superhuman hero.  It would take days to make your way through every room.
But we are located deep inside the secret halls that no one ever ventures, so guarded that not even the heroes themselves could get through, unless they teamed up and tried to get through, but they are superheroes after all.  We work in a large, steel enclosed floor, you could say it looks similar to a warehouse, but that would be an understatement.  The clean industrial walls have no windows, but plenty of vents for air to come in.  The entire ceiling is one wide spread out light fixture, you can’t see the beginning or the end; there are no shadows in the room because of this, which I feel gives the room a warmth, and that’s not just because the lights are extremely hot.  To one side of the room are rows of sewing machines, because we contrast the costumes by hand, and right along side those are racks of finished costumes hung up waiting for inspection and transportation, which is at another corner with dark blue steel cabinets where finished and inspected costumes are put into cotton garment bags.  And on the opposite far end of the room is my desk, where I oversee all the operations and occasionally answer the phone.  Despite being in the same room, each station has a small intercom so we can easily communicate when the room becomes loud with work that echoes off the walls; again, this is a comforting noise when you are used to it.  This is where we single-handedly design, construct, repair, and dry-clean every garment that you see on a superhero and read about in the paper.  And with all this excitement, I am still able to keep ahead of all the news and goings on in each department.
By the time Audrey came into my employment, I had a crack team on my side, two designers and constructors and one errand boy.  First there was Viola, next Benedick, and finally Curtis.  On first glance they are a simple group of people, ones if you met me, you would not think we would associate, but they are far more than that, I say this from years of knowing them personally. 
My right-had man, or to be politically correct, right-hand woman, Viola, who despite her appearance and name, is a hard worker if I ever saw one.  She brings her feminine touch to all our designs, I gave her this task after feeling it would be ungentlemanly of me to give her the more strenuous jobs of handing the large, some might say, dangerous sewing machines in our warehouse.  She’s all business and often gets on the rest of the group’s back when we have our own mock superhero face off in the warehouse.  It’s the only time we ever disagree, I believe in a relaxed environment while she is more concerned with finishing work.  Separate management levels, neither better nor worse, but if it will ease the tension by borrowing some of our own constructed garments and having fun with them, then so be it.  Viola tends to get more antsy and stressed out as the day goes on, she claims it’s due to the demand of outfits in the latter hours of the day that she cannot keep up with alone, but I believe that on a few of those occasions, it was hormonal; though her feminist demur will not admit to it whenever I bring it up during staff meetings.
Someone who does understand my management style is Benedick, who runs the collection and shipping department, the one who, next to myself, has the most contact with the actual superheroes.  We’ve gone out on many occasions for a drink to unwind after a long day at work, so when he sometimes comes in late And leaves early, I look the other way, I understand that we don’t always hear the alarm clock, and grandparents pass away all the time, so he should get those days off each time it happens and should be allowed to have a cigarette during work to ease his own stress.  Benedick has a good way of managing his time, on chance he can go half a day before he needs to leave his security post to assist anyone else, so well managed that he doesn’t feel the need to do half the work everyone else does.  Where Viola will gutlessly work till lights out time, Benedick quickly finishes a few tasks in the morning and by lunch is as relaxed as a snail, often not completing any work in the afternoon.
And then there’s Curtis, who we decided to call Pistol because the name Curtis did not match his potential and quite frankly, was not that interesting of a name to begin with.  A young man recently dropped out of law school to pursue this more needed prestigious line of work, but he still kept his preppy with thick black glasses look.  I won’t belittle his ability by calling him an errand boy, but any small task that no one else is willing to perform, Pistol is there to pick up the slack.  Just the other day, we added to his tasks to include the dry-cleaning portion because he has proven himself a reliable young man and humble enough to take on the task.  I like to think of myself as his mentor, he looks up to me, almost like a father figure, only I am not required to take him out on his birthday, though I would if I knew when it was.
This is my squad, almost like a family, each one possess skills the others lack.  But with the overwhelming need for heroes comes the need for new and better uniforms.  Even with Viola designing, Pistol sewing, Benedick delivering and myself overlooking each aspect, we were falling behind, if Viola was ready to construct, Pistol was still assembling the previous one.  When Benedick discovered that one design in particular had the smallest hole, which looked oddly like a cigarette burn and received a compliant from a high priority client, I decided that we needed an extra pair of hands.
Since we had such high standards of employment, no one even came in who didn’t pass my intense phone interview, and Audrey passed the test.  A petite young lady, though that’s compared to Viola with her heels, Audrey was about as young as Pistol but with a work ethic I would compare to Viola’s, only Audrey didn’t curse the high moons when she stitched a sleeve the wrong way.
An all around hard worker, but I still felt the need to start her off on simpler tasks, so she took over Pistol’s former job of cleaning and dealing with minor fixes, leaving Pistol free to focus on construction.  It was a new start, things moved in a way I’ve never seen before; it was like she had been working with us for years, outfits handed off at a speed as fast as our clients.  Audrey did focus intently on her work, turning on the stereo I did not know was in the laundry room to a volume where even if she wanted to talk to anyone, she would be unable to do so, not that she ever tried, but I put that off to wanting to make a good first impression with her work.
For a while the pace was at this level, sewing and pressing and packing and repairing and cleaning, it all drifted along so well that even when I tried my usual tactics to loosen the vibe in the area.  As usual Benedick was on board, but Audrey just shook her head and went back to pressing more capes.  I decided on a whim, well, more of a need, to promote her to construction, mainly because she moved at such a pace that there were hardly any garments to clean and press.
I took the time to explain all the complexities of color choice, to attach a cape or not, and stretch ability, because after all, it takes a keen eye to match the suit to the hero.  She was so good with the machine, that she was able to design and sew at the same time; any assignment Viola was unable to get to Audrey took them off her hands.  This went along for some time; we had no complaints over anything, which is what I always strive for.  Then on a quiet Tuesday afternoon, Viola was in an unusual rush to finish a particular garment, holding it up at a distance squinting at it.  I suggested she slow down since there was no hurry to finish, but as usual she gave me her stare that I never could understand what it meant.
“It needs a cape, a long one; can you get me a red one Audrey?”  Viola practically yelled it despite their twenty foot distance.  Moving quickly, tapping her stiletto boots across the floor until she was right above Audrey.  Very slowly this time as if Audrey was hard of hearing Viola said, “I need a red cape.”
Audrey was hemming Benedick’s shirt because he had ripped it during our playful warehouse fight.  And with no effort at all, Audrey craned her neck to look at Viola, slowly smiling wide with her mouth closed, almost in an eerie Joker type way, Audrey simply responded, “No thank you.”  And she then looked back down to finish her current task.  This was very bizarre, since that was not what one says to a request.  Even if she didn’t want to do it, she had nothing else to do.  She’s a polite young lady, but there’s a limit, she already refused to do the work which goes against what we’ve come to know of Audrey.  But the smile attached to it shook up the men standing in the far corner amazed that for the first time Viola was utterly confused.  Now I do not always feel up to doing my usual work day in and day out; sometimes I like to take a quick nap since there is an abundance of fabric that can easily serve as a blanket and pillow; but Audrey had no excuse.
After this surprising reaction, there was a slight uproar in the workroom; Pistol kept his nose to his sketchbook and jumped whenever someone came by, Benedick simply leaned on the back legs of his chair and constantly checked his beeper, and Viola was left to forget about the cape in order to finish her other work.  The awkward silence was disturbed when the receiver of the costume that caused the disturbance came to pick it up.  I think it would be wise of me to not reveal who it was, they have their identity to protect, I won’t even say his alter ego’s name because the classy establishment that is the Chateau Fee does not name drop; but let’s just say he recently saved a train full of children from driving off an unfinished track.  Coming in his normal street clothes and a Mets cap, which I do not hold against him, I immediately turn on my gracious host mode.
All eyes except for Audrey’s were on him at this moment; Audrey was focused on her table at this instant.  Curtis hesitantly and with shaking hands, gave him his costume, now neatly sealed in a cotton garment bag with a logo patch near the top where the hanger stuck out.  With a polite smile he unzips the bag and examines his newly improved garment.  Zipping it back up, his smile widens as he looks at each of us.  “Glad to see there’s no cape, they can be too extravagant sometimes.”  He gives a little laugh and we all awkwardly laugh along with him; and with that he thanked us and left.
He liked it; he actually liked—no, loved the way it turned out.  Who knows what would have happened had Viola gotten her way; we would have lost business, rumors be spread about how we were losing our touch, no superhero with any taste in costume would come to us again.  Thankfully Audrey had an eye for these sorts of things, that’s what made her fit in so well; he reaction was for the better of all of us, though she really should have said something, even a small indication that the cape was the wrong way to go; but she just smiled.  I decided that I should talk to her, explain that she should feel free to say these sorts of things especially if it involves the outcome and reputation of the Chateau.
“Audrey, what do you think I should do with this costume?”  I’m standing in front of her desk and she seems to just be staring at a crack in the leg, I should really see that it’s filled in; she doesn’t even look up at me.  “Feel free to speak up; all opinions are welcome…that’s what I always say…”
Still not looking up, I can see that she has that smile on her face again, “No thank you.”
This went on for quite some time, a garment needed a finishing touch, and Audrey refused — no, politely declined to do it.  Even when we began to get backed up in our orders; Benedick was useless with a sewing machine so he couldn’t be trusted to complete them; I was forced to add frills onto some of the female costumes, which I hated doing because I do not possess a feminine touch, but also because the phone would have to go unanswered, everyone too busy to get it and Audrey just sitting there staring at that damn crack in the desk.
Every month we have a staff meeting, where we go over all the garments, make sure that in the next month we don’t over use a certain color or fabric, get a head start on future designs, pass out paychecks; the usually staff meeting procedures.  We always convened at my desk, which was no larger than a home office desk.  I always sat on my usual side with everyone else in foldout chairs on the other; it’s good for them to be that close to each other since they spend so much time on opposite sides of the room.
“All right, to begin with—Audrey! If I neglected to mention, we are having a meeting this morning, so if you would come join us, we can get started!”  I called out to her on the other side of the room, the other three spun in their chairs to see what she was doing; I could have used the intercom, but I couldn’t remember if Audrey knew how to use it yet.  Without looking up from her desk and barely loud enough for us to hear her from across the room, came a muffled ‘no thank you’ and even with the distance, we knew that eerie smile was attached to it.
“Utterly ridiculous!  This is no way to run a business; completely unprofessional.”  Viola’s face was growing red with rage; she was the only one left still glaring at Audrey from across the room.
I try to keep my voice low though Audrey couldn’t hear us anyway, “What am I supposed to do?  She has say in what she does, remember what Phantom-man always says—“
“Oh, screw him!  He doesn’t have a worker taking up time and money doing nothing.”  Benedick, formerly leaning on the backs of his chair, now slammed it forward and leaning over on my desk.  “You want me to handle this?  One call and this is all solved.”  He now had one hand on the phone, I was tempted to let him pick it up; but I just move his hand away and pull it toward me.
‘There’s no need; I’m sure this will pass, maybe its hormon—“I stop myself when Viola whips her head around to now glare at me.  “—what do you think Pistol?”  I try no to make eye contact with Viola at this moment.
Pistol is practically falling out of his chair from shaking’ he doesn’t like conflict and confrontation.  “Ummm….well…I guess…she might…everyone has an off day…now and then…” even his smile is shaking as he shrugs his shoulders.
“Then let’s hope it passes before the busy season.”  And with that we continue with our meeting without Audrey.  But later in the day, before closing time, I went over to her desk, where she was still fixated on that crack.  “It’s about time we closed up; I haven’t given you a key yet, so I’ll have to lock up behind you.”
Smile.  “No thank you.” Smile. Stare at crack.
I let a silent moment pass; I just stand there staring at her staring at the crack.  I clear my throat and still she ignores me.  “I can get someone in here next week to fill in that crack.”
Smile.  “No thank you.”  Smile.  Stare at crack.  This was getting tiresome, there was no manner in which I would allow her to stay after I left; she did not have the authority to be here unattended and with all her recent bizarre behavior, I personally did not trust her; you pick up on little hints functioning in this line of work.
“I really feel like you are trying my patience Audrey; it’s time to close up and go home, I’m sure you have other affairs to attend to or at least go home and relax over the weekend, there’s nothing more you can do here; even if I do feel and can speak for the others when I say that you have not been hold your weight the past few weeks.”  She now stared at me, no longer smiling, just a blank stare as if she was thinking about her grocery list or trying to solve a complicated math equation; it was making me uncomfortable.  I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out her paycheck that she never picked up during the meeting she never attended. 
“This will cover the time you’ve been here and a little extra; no need to hand in your resignation, I can take care of that on your behalf.”  I placed the envelope in front of her but she never flinched; she kept her eyes on me the entire time.  “I let the guard out front know you’re still here, take as much time as you need to gather up your things.”  I knew she had nothing in her desk, when she first started she didn’t even bring a coat; but I turn and leave her there; I could feel her eyes on the back of my head, but this was for the better; soon this whole incident would be behind all of us.
To make sure that there was no foul play while Audrey was in my employment, I came in early on Monday morning to have a workman, the same ones who keep the Hall of Greatness at its greatest, to remove Audrey’s desk.  I did not mention to the others what went on between myself and Audrey, I believe they assumed she left either by her own accord or by force; it didn’t matter to them, things continued on as they did before Audrey joined our company.
Now I mentioned before that the Hall of Greatness was massive; so massive that it would take days possibly weeks for someone to explore every corner of the castle.  Well, about two weeks after the Audrey incident, while we were all in the middle of our busiest season with so many incidents breaking out all over the city, it was hard to keep up with it all—ironically this would have been a good time to have an extra set of hands, we received a visit from Ian, one of the workers who gave tours of the Hall to visitors.  It seemed that while he was going through his new tour route, he discovered Audrey in one of the themed rooms, the otherworldly hero room to be exact.  He explained that he tried to talk to her, but she never responded, or rather she gave him the same response she gave us.  He said she was being held in confinement until further actions could be taken; they found out she worked for me and wanted my opinion on her before sending her to Zeke Island, which was where all villains captured were left to solitary lifetime imprisonment; Audrey was considered for this institution because of where she was found, it appeared to Ian that she had been spending the past month living there.
I went to see her where she was being watched, another steel lined room, much like our workspace only extremely small and claustrophobic.  When I entered the room, Audrey was staring at the wall, the same blank stare I had come to know but this time she looked pale and tired as if she had not seen the daylight or slept in weeks.  She was practically ghostlike, her pasty white skin next to her dark brown hair and dark grey circles under her eyes, along with the way she simply sat in the chair, the only item in the room, she may as well have been a ghost.
Normally, I would try to explain the extremity of the circumstances; that she would be sent away for life along with people who were considered the essence of evil.  I may not know her very well, but I knew that she was not one of them; especially since the examination of her desk when it was removed, showed no foul play or treachery on her part.  I stood next to her and bent down to face her, I never noticed before how young she looked; if you got passed the dark circles, she could be one of the teenagers on a field trip to the Chateau, not a former employee.  I found myself short of words, which seldom happens, but seemed to only come over me when I was around Audrey.
“You know what they’re going to do to you if you don’t explain yourself or simply leave.”  This didn’t even make her flinch in her seat.  “Is there anyone I can call for you, or I wouldn’t be bothered in the least to take you home, or to a hotel, or even a shelter; there’s no shame in asking for help.”  She has been such a thorn in my side these past few months, I should have left her there, but I couldn’t move my legs at this moment. 
She finally looked straight at me, though she wasn’t looking at me, her eyes seemed to look straight through me and out the door; some far off place only she could see.  “No thank you.”  And then she gave me that smile, the one that sent shivers done my spine.  After that, I had no choice but to leave while she was taken off to Zeke Island.
It took some time after that for me to get back into my normal habits at work.  I didn’t want to think that my young pupil was wasting away in a place worse than Hades, she didn’t belong there; I knew that she couldn’t have done anything so horrible that she herself believed she belonged there.  About three weeks after that one of our clients came in for a fitting; he was a second generation superhero along for his first costume.  He stayed quiet throughout the measuring and broke it when he asked if Audrey was still working there.  This shocked me at first since I never thought of Audrey as knowing anyone in his stature and plus the name being spoken aloud caught me off guard.  I simply told him she was sent away—which in our community, we didn’t even have to mention the name to know what ‘sent off’ meant.
He seemed taken aback at this and it was then I found out where Audrey worked before coming to the Chateau.  She was formerly employed at Exe Institute, a place rarely mentioned aloud because this was where superheroes were treated when they were defeated by a villain.  Where we only saw halls and halls filled with the bright and upside of what these heroes have done for society, Audrey must have seen the destruction of it, all the former heroes that lost out to greater forces.  Anyone would be unable to live in the world when all they could see was what happens when we’re at our weakest.  It’s a great tragedy to be surrounded by superheroes but by no means be rescued.