The Ignored by Bentley Little - (ebook by Undead) Page A

the department. She
talked to everyone, seemed to like everyone, but that didn’t make her interest
in me any less genuine or any less appreciated.
    Likewise, Virginia and Lois, the women from the steno pool, were decent
to me, friendly in a way that separated them from everyone else within our
department.
    Or within the building.
    The guard in the lobby still paid no attention to me, although he seemed
to be jovially familiar with everyone else who passed through the doors of
Automated Interface.
    To Jane, I continued to give a fairly neutral account of my days at
work. I told her of my frustration with Stewart, complained about some of my
bigger problems, but the day-to-day difficulties, my seeming inability to fit in
with my fellow workers, the sense of social ostracism I felt, these things I
kept to myself.
    It was my cross to bear.
    A week after I’d distributed the computer manuals, Stewart walked into
my office, waving a sheet of blue interoffice memo paper. I was on break and
reading the Times , but Stewart slammed down the memo on top of my
newspaper. “Read that,” he demanded.
    I read the memo. It was from the head of the accounting department and
simply asked if we could send an extra copy of the computer manual since
Accounting had recently received a new terminal. I looked up at Stewart. “Okay,”
I said. “I’ll make another copy and send them a manual.”
    “Not good enough,” Stewart said. “You should’ve sent them the correct
number to begin with.”
    “All I had to go on was Gabe’s distribution list,” I told him. “I didn’t
know they’d gotten another computer.”
    “It’s your job to know. You should have asked each department head how
many copies he or she needed instead of relying on that outdated list. You
screwed up, Jones.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said.
    “You’re sorry? This reflects on the whole department.” He picked up the
memo. “I’m going to have to show this to Mr. Banks. I’ll let him decide on the
proper course of action to take with you. In the meantime, get that manual to
Accounting ASAP.”
    “I will,” I said.
    “You’d better.”
    My workday went downhill from there.
    Things did not improve when I got home. Jane was cooking hamburger
casserole and watching an old rerun of M*A*S*H when I arrived. I’d always
hated hamburger casserole, but I’d never told her so and it was not something
she’d ever been able to figure out for herself.
    I walked over to the TV and switched the channel. I liked M*A*S*H but I was a news junkie, and from the moment I got home until the start of prime
time, I liked to watch the news. It made me nervous not to know what was going
on in the world, to be oblivious to brewing disasters, but it didn’t seem to
bother Jane at all. Even when the news was on, she paid attention only to movie
reviews, and she preferred to watch reruns or films on cable.
    It had been the source of many fights.
    She knew my position, she knew how I felt, and I couldn’t help thinking
that her choice of TV fare tonight was a direct provocation, an attempt to goad
me. Usually, she had the news on when I came home. The fact that she didn’t this
evening seemed to me to be a direct slap in the face.
    I confronted her. “Why isn’t the news on?”
    “I had a test today. I was tired. I wanted some light entertainment. I
didn’t want to have to think.”
    I understood how she felt, and I should have let it go, but I was still
pissed off at Stewart, and I guess I had to take it out on somebody.
    We got into it.
    It was a big fight, almost a physical fight. Afterward, we both said we
were sorry, and we kissed and hugged and made up. She went into the kitchen to
finish making dinner, and I stayed in the living room and watched the news. I
kicked off my shoes and lay down on the couch. I hadn’t told her I loved her, I
realized. We’d made up, but I hadn’t told her I loved her.
    She hadn’t told me she loved me, either.
    I