Free Remembering Hell by Helen Downing Page B

get
started.” Ms. Sourpuss is back. She reaches over and grabs a pile of manila
folders which she then drops in front of Linda. “Here. File.”
    What was I thinking, of course was there’s
an orientation, and apparently that was just it. She looks at the dour woman in
front of her and says, “Where?”
    The woman just turns and with a
sigh of exasperation walks away, leaving Linda standing there holding a manila
folder with no idea what to do with it. So she just opens up a drawer and
tosses it in. Then she grabs another and tosses that one in. Then she walks
across the room, opens up another random drawer and tosses a bunch more in.
    At one point this very small, yet
incredibly fat man walks in and straight through the office where he then just
seems to disappear. She assumes by his gait and general demeanor that this must
be Mr. Davis, Mr. Morgan, or Mr. Lugner. Linda remembers a joke. This woman
gets called for jury duty and while the Judge is questioning her, she says, “I
should not be on this jury.” The Judge of course asks her why, and she says,
“Because I knew the second I laid eyes on his shifty face, his shiny suit, and
his cheesy smile that he was guilty as sin!” The Judge says, “Ma’am. Sit down
and prepare to hear testimony. That man you are referring to is the
prosecutor.”
    She laughs to herself as she
continues to approach this exercise in futility.
    Once she realizes that if she keeps
up this pace all day she will be out of manila folders way before she’s out of
work day, Linda gets the bright idea to take a break. She goes in search of a
break room. This is a law office, they must have a break room, or a kitchen.
    She walks down a hall and the smell
hits her before the room even comes into her immediate sight. When it does she
realizes she is looking at the most disgusting kitchen in the entire universe.
She looks around from one vile table to the next. Once she crosses the
threshold her eyes begin to water from the stench. Linda is unaware of whether
or not there are rats in the afterlife, but if there are even they would not
hang out in this kitchen. This kitchen would probably make Gordon Ramsey burst
into tears and run to his mother so that she could rock him to sleep.
    There probably is no food or drink
in this establishment with an expiration date before 1937, but even if there
was, Linda was not going to eat or drink anything until this kitchen is
presentable. And, she thinks to herself, this will make the day go by a lot
faster.
    So she takes a deep breath, decides
breathing is totally unnecessary in the afterlife, and dives in. After about an
hour, there is something kitchen shaped starting to emerge. After another hour
and a half, things are actually starting to gleam. Which is pretty damn
impressive considering the only cleaning product Linda could find was an
ancient can of Comet that had fossilized and was now more brick like than
cleaning powder. When she’s finally done, she stands back and admires her own
handiwork. Miss Meany strides by and stops dead in her tracks.
    “What do you think you are doing in
here?” She glances around with an expression that makes it seem like Linda has
made the kitchen worse.
    “I spiffed up the kitchen!” Linda
says brightly. For some reason “spiffing up the kitchen” seems a little more
diplomatic than “shoveling out this enormous shithole.”
    “Well, Ms. Spiffer, I think you
just cleaned out your future at Davis, Morgan, and Lugner!” Then she turns on
her heel and storms out.
    Linda is dazed. Her future at
Davis, Morgan, and Lugner? What could they fire her for? All she did was clean
the kitchen. She walks back out to the office and sees that her pile of Manila
folders have grown. Is that what she was so upset over? Linda shirking her
important “tossing files around the room aimlessly” duties?
    Suddenly the small fat man emerges
from his office and bellows, “Mrs. Miller, in my office immediately!”
    Linda walks into his