Ruby's Interview

[word count: 1489-- Show, Don't Tell Contest Sept. 2011]

Ruby’s Interview

         Ruby perching on the edge of the platform and craned her neck. Nothing but darkness. The crowd was gathering like an angry cloud. Please, not today, Ruby thought. My only interview in four months—I have to be on time.

         Ruby chastised herself for leaving her apartment late, but a parting glimpse of her reflection in the hall mirror appalled her. The grey pencil skirt hugged her backside like a wetsuit. The eight pounds she put on since she lost her job mocked her. She stormed back into her bedroom, cursing the ice cream and chocolate that faithfully comforted her since she was laid off. She rifled though the tightly packed hangers, finally settling on a navy blue A-line skirt.

         The tunnel filled with light and the platform beams flashed. “Red Line Train to Shady Grove,” said the mechanized D.C. Metro voice. Passengers oozed through the doors, filling each compartment. As first in line, Ruby charged in to claim one of the few remaining seats. A man with dark wavy hair and a solid build, eerily resembling Ruby’s ex-boyfriend, lunged for the same seat from the opposite direction. Jack may have dumped her for a dancer, but this Jack-a-like would not win this seat, by God.

         As the train lurched forward, the Jack-man tottered and grabbed a seat rail, splattering his coffee.

         Ruby flinched. “Oh no, my blouse!” she wailed.

          “I’m so sorry,” the man said, offering a recycled paper napkin.

         Ignoring the apology, Ruby grabbed the napkin, plopped in the seat, and rubbed the brown splotches adorning the front of her white silk blouse. Her neck felt hotter and her palms moister than the liquid on her chest. “I’ll never get this out,” she moaned, lifting her head. But the clumsy stranger already had slinked away, also not unlike Jack.

         Ruby sprinted up the stairs of the Judiciary Square Metro station. Shading her eyes from a flood of sunlight, Ruby checked her watch—five minutes to walk seven blocks. She would make it if she hurried. At first, Ruby walked past the dull seven-story building marked only "1237." What did she expect, the “Department of Homeland Security Welcomes You" in neon?

         Once inside, Ruby approached an information kiosk near the door. “John Jennings with the Department of Homeland Security is expecting me,” she said, trying to sound professional. Without lifting his head, the wrinkled guard thrust a clipboard toward her. Ruby signed her name and accepted a clip-on visitor pass. “Fifth floor,” he muttered. When she pivoted toward the elevators, the guard shot up like a jack-in-the-box.

         “Miss, you have to go through security first!”

         Ruby groaned at the swarm of visitors and the ancient gatekeeper manning the security checkpoint. Now she would be late. She was tempted to give up and go home, but her rent was due in a few days and she couldn't stand the thought of a bail out from her parents, who would insist she move back to Iowa. Fresh out of chocolate almond Kisses, Ruby sought strength from sugar-free Altoids.

         Ruby polished off five mints while eleven visitors removed shoes, jackets, belts, emptied pockets, and surrendered bags. She rolled her eyes as the hunched guard lazily examined the x-rayed contents of each bin. When Ruby finally flung her purse and briefcase on the conveyor, a man in a black suit elbowed her and barged in front.

          “Hey! Excuse me, I was next!” Ruby protested. She wanted to shove the brute back, but the guard waved him through. She stared open-mouthed as four more men in black suits cut in. The last of the men looked sick—his complexion was pallid and his eyes sunken.

         As Ruby reached for her bags, the pale man was bending to tie a shoe. Ruby's eyes widened as she watched him smooth out his hair line and tug on his neck as if pulling down a scarf. Could that man be wearing a mask? God, I hope he’s not a terrorist.

         Then the man’s bloodless skin split apart near his left ear, exposing a slimy band of scales the color and texture to an avocado. Hearing Ruby gasp, the man titled his head and bore his menacing eyes into her. Ruby recoiled and averted her eyes. Her mind raced to make sense of what she saw, or thought she saw.

         “Miss?” the guard said. Ruby's blank stare caused him to shuffle closer and raise his voice, “Come on, Miss, we don’t have all day.”

         As Ruby gathered her composure and her belongings, she surveyed the guard and the other visitors in line. Everything seemed normal. No one had noticed the strange man. Come on, Rubes, get a grip! The guy probably just has some weird skin condition.

         Ruby glanced at her watch—twelve minutes late. She dashed to an open elevator and squeezed in. She was the only person to get off on the fifth floor. A set of unmarked glass doors faced the elevator, leading to the only office. Ruby buttoned her jacket, hoping to conceal the caramel-colored marks. As she entered the office, a thin woman with auburn hair and a warm smile welcomed her.

         “We’ve been expecting you, Miss Rollins,” the woman said.

         “I’m sorry I’m late,” Ruby began.

         “I’m Margaret,” the redhead interrupted, extending her hand. Ruby was instantly put at ease by Margaret’s firm grip, kind manner, and subtle rosewater scent, which stirred in Ruby memories of her grandmother.

         Margaret led Ruby to a conference room with no windows. As Margaret was leaving, two men entered. The older of the two wore grey slacks and a cashmere sweater. The other Ruby recognized his as the first man who cut in front of her downstairs. She bristled, but shook his hand. Introducing themselves as “John” and “Lou,” the men gestured for her to sit on the opposite side of a dark wood table.

         The interview began with the usual questions—Why did she want the job? What was her best accomplishment? Her biggest flaw? As they were discussing grades and past jobs, John’s cell phone rang and he excused himself. Then Lou—the one in the suit—stood up. Like a cat toying with a trapped insect, he slowly circled the table until he hovered over Ruby. She turned her head to avoid his musky cologne and minty breath.

         “Ruby, what makes you think we should hire you? You don’t have any real experience. You don’t have any connections. Your academic record isn’t stellar.” Ruby froze. Each word struck like a jab to an open wound. “Plus, it’s obvious you’re unreliable,” Lou snarled. “You were late to this interview. Admit it, Ruby. Your life is a wreck—just like the stain on your shirt!”

         Before Ruby could answer, Lou stormed out of the room, slamming the door. A sickening, sour taste surged in her mouth. Beads of sweat formed at her temples, framed her upper lip, and trickled between her breasts. Yet her hands felt like clammy slabs of refrigerated beef.

         What do I do now? Ruby pulled out her notepad and pen. She kneaded her forehead, as if she could extract an antidote to Lou’s venom. God, I hope John comes back.

         After twenty minutes, Ruby rose to find Margaret. But the conference room door knob wouldn’t budge more than a few degrees. The door was locked from the outside. Ruby rapped on the door and called out, but no one answered. Even with her ear to the door, she heard nothing. Could they all be in a meeting? Ruby reached for her cell phone, but it wasn’t in her purse, her briefcase, or her pockets. Her heart began to race. What's happening? I have to get out of here!

         Suddenly, the conference door swung open and people poured in. Ruby recognized Lou, John, and Margaret. But the man who spilled coffee on her on the train was there too! And the other four men-in-black from the lobby. One held a mask in each hand—a real-looking collapsed human head and a lizard face. Ruby's mouth was open, but she couldn't speak.

         Flashing a child-like smile, Lou stretch out his hand and said, “Congratulations Ruby. You passed the interview with flying colors. The job is yours if you want it. Homeland Security would be proud to have you on its team.”

         The others gathered around Ruby. John explained that the morning's events, including her missing phone —which Margaret was proudly waving—were all part of the interview. Given the nature of the Department’s work, employees—even entry-level analysts—must be able to handle the unexpected; their safety and that of their colleagues could depend on it.

         "Ruby, you proved that you are one focused young lady!" John said.

         “Here’s our offer,” said Lou, handing Ruby a folded sheet of paper.

         Ruby peeked at the offer and the circle of smiles. Her pulse began to slow as an audible whoosh of air escaped her lips.

[wc 1489]