The Saboteur
by David Santiago
|
Table of Contents parts: 1, 2, 3, 4 |
conclusion
Ofelia whirled around and swung the restroom door open, stepping in front of the wall-mounted mirror. She brushed the hair from her eyes and examined herself. She looked sharp and was feeling more confident already. More certain of what she needed to do. She spread her feet wide apart, shut her eyes, and inhaled deeply. Everything was coming into focus. Her mind was quieter. She slowly raised her arms up in a V-shape.
“You’re fired, you impertinent file clerk!” she cried, opening her eyes.
To her left, a couple feet away, stood the woman in the pink dress. Ofelia smiled. “Care to join me?”
The woman nodded shyly, then closed her eyes and raised her arms slowly in the air. “Fake it till you make it!” she shouted.
“There you go. Let it all out,” said Ofelia. “Although I prefer, practice till you perfect it.”
“My boyfriend’s a royal ass,” said the woman in the pink dress. “I caught him cheating on me last week, and now he’s trying to make it up to me.”
A toilet flushed, and a woman exited the stall. She washed her hands, then stood to the right of Ofelia. “Oh no, that won’t do, honey,” said the woman, raising her arms in the air. “Dump him. You have that power.”
“My date’s trying to drug me,” said Ofelia matter-of-factly.
“What! Oh my God, that’s horrible,” said the woman in the pink dress.
“What a bastard!” said the other woman.
“It’s a shame. He is very handsome,” said Ofelia. “And sadly, I think he was in on it last night as well.”
A waitress entered the bathroom and stood next to the woman in the pink dress.
“Power pose!” she exclaimed, lifting her arms in the air. “I have the most asinine customer. He is so incredibly rude.”
“It all makes sense now,” said Ofelia. “My cab driver summed it up perfectly. There are certain people in this city who feel like they can cut corners to make it, no matter the trouble that might cause others.”
“Well, no one is putting us down tonight,” said the waitress. “Enough is enough!”
* * *
Ofelia returned to her table and sat down. Kendrick smiled and placed his cell phone on the table. He had been text messaging with someone. Nearby, the woman in the pink dress sat primly on the edge of her seat and glanced at Ofelia.
“How do you feel?” asked Kenrick.
“I have to hand it to you. I feel amazing,” she said, staring directly at him. “Much more sure of myself.”
On that cue, the woman in the pink dress tossed her water in her boyfriend’s face. There was an audible gasp in the room as she stood up, spreading her feet apart with her hands on her hips in a Wonder Woman pose. “We’re through,” she said calmly, but forcefully. “You’re a cheat, and you can’t buy back my trust.”
Kendrick, distracted by the commotion, didn’t see Ofelia switch their wine glasses. The woman in the pink dress turned to Ofelia, smiled, then strode out of the restaurant to scattered applause. “Wow! Let’s drink to that,” said Ofelia, raising her wine glass to her mouth and taking a sip.
Kendrick, still unsettled from the commotion, raised his glass and took a deep gulp.
“That was something,” said Kendrick, eyeing the wet man at the nearby table. He took another large swig of wine and shook his head. “But do I love Produttori del Barbaresco. Can you taste hints of black cherry and truffle?”
“It’s a complex affair,” said Ofelia, raising her wine glass again. “And here’s another toast to making connections.”
Kendrick raised his glass, took another gulp of wine, and sat back comfortably in his chair. “To making connections,” he replied. “Now, how about that speech?”
“Good evening,” interjected the waitress from the restroom. “I’ll be taking your orders.”
“Wonderful. How about the most special item on your menu?” Ofelia looked at Kendrick imploringly. “After all, you are a surgeon, and I’m sure you don’t mind splurging a little, since I watched little Boris here.”
Ofelia thought she saw Kendrick flinch.
“I’ll take the Linguini Cardinale, with lobster, of course,” said Ofelia, skimming the menu, searching for the most expensive bottle of wine. “And a bottle of 2016 Masseto.” Priced at $1,195. Ha!
“So my speech,” said Ofelia after Kenrick had placed his order, “the thing is, I don’t think you’ll remember a word of it. And by the time our food comes around, I don’t think you’ll be a tremendous help with the dry run.”
“I’m sorry. Did I miss something?”
“I never heard Everly speak about you specifically. I knew she came from a large Catholic family. But then I thought about how odd it was that a surgeon was attending an international health policy conference. Plausible, but unlikely. This conference tends to attract NGOs and government types.” Ofelia took another sip of wine. “This is rather splendid, I must admit.
“Anyway, I decided to look you up on LinkedIn. ‘Let me input Kendrick O’Brien and see what I come up with,’ I said to myself. Lo and behold, there you were, dressed in this same pinstripe suit you’re wearing now, as a matter of fact. Occupation: Mid-Atlantic Sales Representative for Industrial Boilers.”
“There’s obviously a misunderstanding,” said Kendrick, adjusting his shirt collar uncomfortably. “O’Brien is a common name.”
“Sure, O’Brien is relatively common. But Kendrick O’Brien from Reston, Virginia is not. Plus, I found photos of you and Everly on Facebook. Speaking of Everly, she’s ambitious, apparently overly ambitious, and has been vying for a promotion the past couple of years.
“I’m all about promotions, but not at the expense of someone else. Not by cutting corners or sabotage. I guess that was her plan. Drop a couple of roofies in my drink while I’m dining at 1789, then have her brother — for some reason I can’t fully explain — check me into my hotel room. Hope that I don’t show up to orals or, at the bare minimum, make me woozy enough that I bomb the orals.
“And it was a good ruse. Staying at a luxury hotel was a nice touch. Very distracting. Her dog was also very distracting. She knows I’m a sucker for puppies. Even odd-looking puppies that desperately need grooming and braces.” She reached under the table and rubbed Boris’s head. “No offense, Boris, you’re a sweetheart.”
Kendrick rubbed his eyes. He was struggling to express outrage while mounting a defense. Ofelia watched as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His eyelids were drooping and his head was swaying.
“Nawhhaa, looooksss here,” he slurred, before slumping in his seat.
Ofelia took another sip of her wine and stood up. She walked around the table, standing behind Kenrick.
“Kendrick, you do appear to be sleepy,” she said, reaching into his suit pockets. “Found it!” she exclaimed, pulling out a pill bottle from a flap pocket. “Rohypnol.”
The waitress brought their dinners to the table. “He doesn’t seem to be up to eating his antipasti,” she said.
“I don’t think he is,” Ofelia said, showing her the bottle. “I think he may have overdone it.”
“Do you want me to call the police?” whispered the waitress in Ofelia’s ear.
“No, I don’t think that will be necessary at this time.”
Ofelia grabbed his cellphone and swiped it on, using his face to log in.
“What do you see?”
“Text messages from his sister. She happens to be a co-worker of mine.”
“No way!”
Ofelia took a screenshot of the text messages and sent them to her cell phone number.
“This message is interesting,” said Ofelia to the waitress, who leaned in to take a closer look. “Kendrick,” said Ofelia, reading the text message out loud. ‘Don’t skimp on the pills. We need her out cold, and then this promotion is mine. We can finally move out of this awful apartment’.”
“Wow. That’s low.”
“I think it’s time I called a cab.”
* * *
The ride to Everly’s apartment took longer than it should have, because Ofelia had the driver pick up Chloe along the way. Kenrick was snoring in the passenger seat, and Ofelia and Chloe were sitting in the rear. It was drizzling and dark, but Ofelia felt more lucid than she had in days.
“I have to admit, Ofelia,” said Chloe after some time, “I find it hard to fathom why Everly would go to such lengths to sabotage you. I mean, it’s just bonkers.”
“I don’t know. Clearly, she wanted a promotion. I would have thought that there were easier ways to go about getting one.”
“She did — to her credit, I suppose — put you up in a nice hotel.”
“I’m not complaining about that,” said Ofelia, stroking Boris’s back. “But she definitely wanted me out of the way. All the bigwigs from RTI are going to be at the conference tomorrow.”
“You know, she may have lost us the contract because of her shenanigans.”
Everly lived on the first floor of a three-story, brown brick apartment complex that was built in the 1970s and was close to Leesburg Pike. The building was not attractive. Although Ofelia could see why Everly would want to relocate, it was in a quiet, safe neighborhood and was certainly nicer than the three crowded flats she’d spent her childhood in.
I guess everything is a matter of perspective, she thought. We all want different things, but what matters most is how you go about getting what you want.
Ofelia stepped out of the cab, which was parked in front of Everly’s unit, and walked over to the driver’s-side window.
“I’ll pay you double if you help us deliver this gentleman to his apartment.” Technically, Kendrick will double your fare, but who’s asking?
The driver exited the car like a torpedo. It was impressive, since he was a rather rotund individual. “Okay, so I’ll lift him out of his seat, and then you’ll get under each arm,” he said, running around the car, then opening the passenger-side door. He did a few squats as warms ups before reaching in. “And here we go, one, two...”
Kendrick dropped out of the car onto his bottom, into a large puddle. His head slumped over his chest, his hands dangled from his side, and he continued to snore.
“Gosh dang it,” said the driver. “He slipped right outta my hands. He’s like a pile of lead.”
“He looks peaceful,” said Chloe. “Should we just leave him here?”
Ofelia looked at Kendrick. He did look peaceful.
“Nah. He might catch something. Who knows what’s crawling around the ground?”
“I’ll grab him by his feet,” said the driver. “You ladies grab him from under each arm. Okay?”
They lifted him this time. There was a tearing sound as they picked him up.
“Oh dear, I think we’ve torn his pants,” said Chloe, wheezing.
“It’ll help with ventilation,” huffed Ofelia. “He’s sopping wet.”
They shuffled their way slowly to the front entrance, then placed him upright against the wall near Everly’s apartment.
“Let me run and get Boris,” said Chloe.
Ofelia rang the doorbell to Everly’s apartment. The cab driver lit a cigarette and walked a few feet away. After a minute or so, the door slowly creaked open. A woman in a nightgown peered out of the partially opened door, then unlatched the chain lock.
“Ofelia,” she asked, bewildered, “is that you?”
“Hi, Everly. Yes, it is. Surprise!” said Ofelia, grinning. “Oh, and I’ve also brought along Kendrick.” She pointed to the unconscious figure on the ground. “He’s a little lethargic right now. Took a few too many sleepy pills.”
Everly’s face went white. She placed her hand in front of her mouth.
“I think the pills were meant for me,” continued Ofelia, pulling out her cell phone and showing it to Everly. “Based on your text messages to Kendrick this evening, you didn’t want to skimp on the pills. Much stronger dose than the ones you gave me on Sunday night.”
There was a high-pitched bark as Boris sprinted past the cab driver and Ofelia, spinning excitedly in circles in front of Everly.
“Boris,” whimpered Everly quietly.
“Good ol’ Boris,” said Ofelia. “We actually got along quite well. Oh, and let me introduce you to our cab driver... er, what’s your name?”
“Ajani,” he said. “Nice to meet you. Fascinating drama, I must add.”
“And here’s Chloe!”
Chloe was filming the entire episode on her cell phone. “Good evening, Everly. Hope we didn’t disturb you,” she said. “We needed to make a delivery.”
There was a thud. A small cloud of dust drifted into the air. Ofelia, Ajani and Chloe stood over Everly, who had passed out, face down, in the doorway.
“Ouch,” said Chloe, placing her phone back in her purse.
“We didn’t even need to give her the sleepy pills,” said Ofelia.
“Doesn’t look like she broke anything,” said Ajani, poking his index finger at her repeatedly.
“I think this is a fitting ending to our evening, don’t you?” asked Ofelia. “Let’s bring them inside and wish them adieu.”
* * *
The main ballroom at the National Press Club was packed. Several hundred attendees for the International Conference on Public Health were sitting theater-style around the main stage. It was just after 9:00 a.m., and the host was making his way to the podium.
The sun had come out and was shining through the sliding glass doors on either side of the main stage. Ofelia was seated in a chair facing the audience, in front of the curtains closest to the stage. She could make out Chloe and Mathew, seated a few rows back, as well as Ms. Henderson, the USAID contracting officer, in the front row.
Well, I guess this is it, she thought. I’m really doing this.
Ofelia placed her hands in her lap and narrowed her eyes.
I am a powerful woman! she said to herself, spreading her feet apart to make herself feel bigger. She’d never found the speaker notes she had so painstakingly prepared. She assumed Everly or Kendrick had taken them but, regardless, she concluded perhaps they had done her a favor. She didn’t need them. The file clerk in her brain wasn’t going to dictate the terms of her speech today.
“Welcome to the National Press Club, the world’s leading professional organization for journalists...” began the host.
She felt a little sorry for Everly. Ofelia had had to report the incident to Human Resources, and it was certainly not the sort of incident any responsible company could take lightly. She assumed that she wouldn’t be seeing Everly much from now on.
While Everly wasn’t old enough to have a mid-life crisis, there was no doubt, in Ofelia’s mind, that Everly was having a quarter-life crisis. In a way, she could relate. Not to the drugging part — that was cuckoo — but she could empathize with the desperation. The lack of confidence. Ofelia thought at length:
It’s hard to explain why we have our discontents. We’re so privileged here. And yet even successful people, like Everly and me, seem to hit inexplicable U-curves in life. We become consumed with what we don’t have and lose sight of just how lucky so many of us are. Here I am, a first-generation woman from the inner city, providing a keynote address to hundreds of public health professionals!
And yes, I suppose I should apologize to Julia. She’s such a highbrow, stiff-necked elitist. (Ofelia sighed.) I need to stop. She may be all those things, but she’s working in a field where she’s trying to help people. Trying to help young women and mothers all over the world, just like me. So I’ll just tip my hat to her and tell her I’m sorry.
“And now, without further ado, let’s bring to the stage our keynote speaker, Dr. Ofelia Burgos!” exclaimed the host.
Ofelia rose to her feet and could feel the sun on her back. She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and lifted her chest and head toward the ceiling while outstretching her arms. She could feel the energy flowing in and around her, and knew that everything she needed to say, everything she was all about, was on full display. Nothing was going to hold her back this morning.
And had she been looking, she would have noticed that Ms. Henderson, a woman with a perpetual frown, was the first to rise to her feet, raising her arms in the air with just the slightest, but still very perceptible, smile. This was followed by Chloe, Mathew, and nearly every man and woman in the audience. And when Ofelia finally opened her eyes and stepped onto the stage, she witnessed a sea of people reaching to the sky, unencumbered by meddlesome file clerks and inner demons. And despite her small stature, she had never felt bigger and more powerful.
Copyright © 2022 by David Santiago
