The House in the Cerulean Sea(9)

That sounded good.

Instead, he pressed the five again.

The doors opened.

He coughed. It echoed down the hallway.

“No time for cowardice,” he scolded himself quietly. “Chin up. For all you know, maybe it’s a promotion. A big promotion. One with higher pay and you’ll finally be able to go on that vacation you’ve always dreamed about. The sand on the beach. The blue of the ocean. Don’t you wish you were there?”

He did. He wished it greatly.

Linus began to walk down the hallway slowly. Rain lashed against the windows to his left. The lights in the sconces to his right flickered slightly. His loafers squeaked on the floor. He pulled at his tie.

By the time he reached the opposite end of the hallway, four minutes had passed. According to his watch, it was five till nine.

He tried the doors.

They were locked.

The window at the side of the doors had a metal grate pulled down on the inside. There was a metal plate next to it, with a small button on the side.

He debated briefly before pressing the button. A loud buzzer sounded on the other side of the metal grate. He waited.

He could see his reflection in the window. The person staring back at him looked wide-eyed and shocked. He hastily smoothed down his hair from where it had started sticking up on the side as it always did. It didn’t do much. He straightened his tie, squared his shoulders, sucked in his belly.

The metal grate slid up.

On the other side was a bored-looking young woman snapping gum behind her bright red lips. She blew a pink bubble, and it popped before she sucked it back into her mouth. She cocked her head, blond curls bouncing on her shoulders. “Help you?” she asked.

He tried to speak, but no sound came out. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Yes. I have an appointment at nine.”

“With whom?”

That was an interesting question, one that he didn’t have an answer to. “I … don’t quite know.”

Ms. Bubblegum stared at him. “You have an appointment, but you don’t know with whom?”

That sounded about right. “Yes?”

“Name?”

“Linus Baker.”

“Cute,” she said, tapping perfectly manicured fingernails against the keyboard. “Linus Baker. Linus Baker. Linus—” Her eyes widened. “Oh. I see. Hold one moment, please.”

She slammed the metal grate down again. Linus blinked, unsure of what he was supposed to do. He waited.

A minute passed.

And then another.

And then another.

And then—

The metal grate slid back up. Ms. Bubblegum looked far more interested in him now. She leaned forward until her face was almost pressed against the glass separating them. Her breath caused the window to fog up slightly. “They’re waiting for you.”

Linus took a step back. “Who is?”

“All of them,” she said as she looked him up and down. “All of Extremely Upper Management.”

“Oh,” Linus said weakly. “How delightful. And we’re sure it’s me they want?”

“You are Linus Baker, aren’t you?”

He hoped so, because he didn’t know how to be anyone else. “I am.”

Another buzzer sounded, and he heard a click from the doors next to him. They swung open on silent hinges. “Then yes, Mr. Baker,” she told him, cheek bulging slightly from her gum. “It’s you they want. And I would hurry, if I were you. Extremely Upper Management doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Right,” he said. “How do I look?” He sucked in his stomach a little farther.

“Like you have no idea what you’re doing,” she said before she slammed down the metal grate again.

Linus glanced back longingly at the elevators at the other end of the hall.

Don’t you wish you were here? they asked him.

He did. Very much so.

He stepped away from the window toward the open doors.

Inside was a circular room with a rotunda overhead made of glass. There was a fountain in the center of the room, a stone statue of a man in a cloak, water spilling in a continuous stream from his outstretched hands. He was looking toward the ceiling with cold, gray eyes. Around him, clutching at his legs, were little stone children, water splashing on the tops of their heads.

A door opened to Linus’s right. Ms. Bubblegum stepped out from her booth. She smoothed down her dress, snapping her gum loudly. “You’re shorter than you look through glass,” she told him.

Linus didn’t know how to respond to that, so he said nothing at all.

She sighed. “Follow me, please.” She moved like a bird, her steps tiny and quick. She was halfway across the room before she looked back at him. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

“Right,” Linus said, nearly tripping over his own feet as he hurried to catch up with her. “Apologies. I’ve … I’ve never been here before.”

“Obviously.”

He thought he was being insulted, but he couldn’t figure out how. “Are they … all of them?”

“Odd, isn’t it?” She blew another bubble, which popped daintily. “And for you, of all people. I didn’t know you existed until this moment.”

“I get that a lot.”