Auditing...

[aquabean]

There have been auditors coming by my company for a while now. Nothing serious, just the yearly review that comes with handling Other People's Money. 'S not a big deal really, except that...

Today we lost a file.

This meant much running around and hushed voices, and "What do you mean it isn't anywhere?" Worst of all, it was a file in one of my divisions. Naturally this also meant that the missing file was my responsibility.

Now, employee files are a big deal. They contain everything from resumes, to salary information to social security numbers and copies of birth certificates. Every employee is supposed to have one, and when the auditors come, that's where we pull from. But this man had no file. So into the file room I went (again) at around 1:30. Everyone had come back from lunch, and even though I never ended up taking one, this was important and sometimes even I feel a strange sense of responsibility to my job.

A large, windowless room, lined with large metal filing cabinets, the File Room is not a warm or welcoming place. My heels echoed hollowly off of the cold tile floor, and when I bumped into the cabinet closest to the door with the keys I held there was a reverberating BOOM that made me jump. It's always several degrees colder there than in the rest of the office and as the goose-bumps rose on my legs I was very glad that I'd remembered to wear my sweatshirt, even if it wasn't exactly "office attire."

Alphabetical order is helpful, but since this was the third time I'd looked I had very little hope left. I was to employ a simple but easy method; unlock the cabinet, rifle through the files, realize the name in question is not amongst those listed, close the cabinet.

Just as I reached the door to leave and tell my boss that the search was hopeless, I noticed I hadn't been as alone in the File Room as I'd thought.

A small woman in a deep purple business suit was sitting at one of the two work stations on the far side of the room. Hidden from view by row of cabinets in the middle of the room, I hadn't noticed her perched there on the low green chair, writing in what looked to be a leather bound day planner.

"Excuse me?" People have never been allowed in the file room unless they have key card access and since I didn't recognize her, couldn't see how she could have gotten in. "Excuse me?" I asked again, more forcefully this time.

"Hold on," she didn't look up, but her moved marginally faster, and after a moment, with a flourish she dotted an i somewhere on the page. "Thank you." She smiled and bushed fluffy white bangs out of her eyes.

Somewhere outside the File Room someone laughed, loud and high-pitched, but after a moment it died away, leaving us in a weighted silence. The woman didn't look away, but studied me intently, making me feel rather like I was being appraised for sale.

"Um...is there anything I can help you with?" Being helpful was a kind default setting for me, particularly at work, so the smile that I wore was, for the most part, genuine.

"Oh, no. I'm just here auditing." She smiled again, small white teeth strangely bright in the normally unflattering florescent light.

"Oh. Well," I stopped, heart in my throat. It couldn't have looked good for me to rifling desperately through the files swearing under my breath. "Was there anything specific that you were looking for?"

The planner was laying on the desk beside her and after setting her pen beside it she stood straightening her blazer. "Oh, no." Again, she smiled. "Though," and here the pause was significant, her gaze going from the keys in my hands to the badge clipped at my waist, "if you have the time for a few questions..."

Even as she trailed off I could tell she knew that I would stay. What else was I supposed to do. We'd all been told to answer the Auditor questions as quickly and "correctly" as we could. There was nothing else for it.

"Sure." She motioned me to the other small swivel chair even as she sat again herself. "You're," she pulled the planner back into her lap and opened it to somewhere in the middle. It looked as though it had been marked with a book mark made of woven grass. "twenty-four years old?"

"Yes, twenty-four tomorrow." Though I didn't stumble in my answer I couldn't help but wonder what this had to do with the file audit or how she knew my age. "Can I ask--"

"How rude of me!" She extended her right hand immediately, "I'm Ms. Andrews."

"I'm Elisa," inbred politeness taking over when my brain momentarily failed me, "nice to meet you."

Ms. Andrews smiled again and this, and picking up her pen, began to write again, "Not often I meet young people with manner these days."

"I don't know about that," my cynicism peeking out like the edge of a lace slip, "you don't meet many polite adults either."

The laugh was more startling than it should have been, but her smile was just as warm as it had been before, "True enough I suppose," and her pen moved across the paper again writing out what looked like from my upside down vantage point, "Witty."

"So, Elisa, you will be twenty-four tomorrow. Anything you wish you'd done differently?"

I blinked. "Done differently?"

"Yes, differently," Ms. Andrew's eyes were wide with curiosity, "with your life."

"Umm..." I stopped hating the verbal pause. Looking down at my hands I considered in silence for a moment, "Well, I wish that I had made more friends."

"More friends?" One eyebrow rose even as she frowned slightly. "You seem to have quite a lot of friends," and she pointed to a list on the page facing the one on which she'd been writing.

"Oh, no, I mean--" I stopped again, weighing my words. "I mean that I wish I had been braver. Less scared of making new friends. I've met some amazing people. How many more people would I have met if I'd actually done something about it?"

"You made a friend last night."

"Well, yes, but..." I trailed off as Ms. Andrews arched her brows at me again the look of skepticism on her face growing. I wanted to protest, to ask how she knew, but before I could speak merely tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowing. I decided it was probably best not to argue. "Yes, but were already friends. Mostly. The phone just makes it...makes it..."

"Real?"

"Yes. Yes, I suppose it's something like that."

Nodding to herself, she took more notes. "Why?"

"Why?" My confusion made me feel stupid, and I still wanted to know what this had to do with the auditing. "Why more real?"

Ms. Andrews nodded.

"I guess....I like the sound of her voice. And the way that she laughs. You imagine that kind of thing, but," I shrugged struggling to articulate what I remembered from the night before, "People are real when you hear them breath. When you hear how much laughing sounds like crying--"

"Yes?" Her pen, which had been moving steadily throughout our conversation stopped. "Please, go on."

Swallowing thickly I continued, "Sometimes makes it harder too 'cause you wish that there was more that you could do." Blinking, I looked past her at the flat grey-white of the walls, "I made her laugh though. That was good."

"You tried at least," Ms. Andrews voice was soft, and her hand when it rested on mine was warm and dry. She squeezed once before letting go. "Well, I think that what we have here is very good."

"Uh?" I brought my focus back to her face long to see her smile one more time.

"Yes, this, " she held up the planner, still open to page with her notes, "seems to show that you've been working very hard. I'll have to be back in a few years," her shrug was rueful, "but you know how it is with audits."

"So, then...we passed?" She was stood and I followed suit.

"You passed, yes." Coat straightened she turned and walked to the door, but stopped, one hand on the knob, "I am afraid though, that that file you're looking for really is lost." She smiled in a sympathetic fashion and left, the door clicking softly shut behind her.


(the rabbit hole isn't always straight down.)

For someone who knows who she is..