Amanda

Amanda

By Lena Gemmer

It was exceedingly early, as usual, when I walked into work that day. I lived to come in before anyone else so I could get my favorite parking place and get some peace. I never understood the need to layer on the vapid pleasantries that everyone expects from a meaningless office job.

But today, as I got off the elevator, I knew something was off.

Thaddeus and Jasper were here, talking intensely over by the corner desk where Amanda usually sat. It was seven-thirty, and they were never here at seven-thirty. More surprisingly so, Thaddeus wasn’t holding his usual Starbucks, his stupid Venti Iced Caramel Macchiato with almond milk and an extra shot of espresso. God dammit! What was wrong?

The two younger men looked at each other sheepishly until one of them finally said.
“Harvey,” there was a pause,  “Amanda was found dead in her apartment last night.”

I startled a bit, shocked, staring out at the succulents scattered across Amanda’s desk. Who was going to keep them alive?
“Who’s… who’s going to take care of her plants?” I muttered, unable to say anything else.
“What?” Jasper asked, a little confused.
“Her plants, Jasper, you know we can’t keep green things alive.”
He neglected my question and moved on, a crease in his brow. “There’s one other thing, Harvey. Um… we found this on her desk,” he passed over a small note, “it says if she ever died, she wanted you to write her obituary…and put it in the paper…I mean, it was a note to Lauren but still…”
She had got to be kidding me.
“If I died tomorrow, I would want Harvey Hale to write my obituary for the local paper… I’m serious Lauren!”

Amanda and I had never been that close. As coworkers go, we were from vastly different departments on opposite sides of the office building, only bumping into each other at lunchtime or near the water cooler. It was just last week when I saw her and Lauren chatting away and passing sticky notes back and forth to each other’s desks.
“I hate having my back to the office doorway, it’s bad luck you know. That’s what my Grandmother said. You never know who’s going to enter unannounced.”
“Why is it bad luck?” Amanda had asked, flipping her deep brown hair over her shoulder.
“Because you never know what’s going to happen, who’s going to walk in; your life might end right then and there!”

I remember watching Amanda consider this, her deep brown eyes thoughtful.
“Well, if I died, I would want a really sad funeral… everyone would come in black… and…”
“Jasper would have to write your obituary!” Lauren interjected.

I remember seeing Amanda crinkle her nose and shake her head.
“No. I wouldn’t want anyone I didn’t know to write it. It would have to be someone else, someone I trusted to do it right.”
“This is a fucking joke, right?” I replied, clutching the note.
“I wish we were kidding.”
“I barely knew Amanda. I’m the worst employee here!”

“She knew you’re a writer at heart Harvey. You’re the only one who can do this.”

I scratched my head, heading over to the other side of the room, the all-too-familiar office looking like a bad dream. There had to be someone more qualified than me to write this thing.

“She doesn’t have any other family, you’re it!” Jasper replied.
“How did she die? I croaked, “Wasn’t she only like 30?”

“We don’t know yet. The police are investigating.”
How could I write a personal statement about a woman I barely knew?

I haven’t been writing much since last month. Everyone heard through the grapevine about me almost getting fired for a huge copy edit in a finalized business plan. I had writer's block, and she knew it!

Amanda, Amanda, Amanda… why me?! I thought, terrified. What did I know about you?

This was crazy, diabolical, morbid, and stupid. What if I messed it up?
“… and Harvey, we need it in the paper by tomorrow, okay?” Jasper said, looking pained.
“Please? She was the best part of this dingy ass office,” Thaddeus piled on.

I got up out of my chair, unable to think, and paced the room of cubicles.
Give me something, Amanda, give me something!

I stared at her desk again. She didn’t have any family, there were no pictures in frames like everyone else had of their loved ones, not even a pet. She talked incessantly about Gilmore Girls, and Bon Appétit recipes that no one but her could cook, and funny cat videos on YouTube. There wasn’t anyone else like her.

My mind continued to reel in panic.

A boyfriend, then? Girlfriend? A cousin twice removed. Anyone knows her better than me!
Jasper sat listlessly at his desk, “Work was her life, you know that Harvey. She never missed a day; we were all she had!” He sighed, looking up, “She was always the one putting together the office potlucks, the annoying secret Santas. She always remembered all of our birthdays… and those Halloween parties! She picked you for a reason, all right? She trusted you.”

He was right, it had to be me.

For the next three hours, I sat at my desk by the window, my computer screen cursor mocking me. Wow, I felt like an asshole. Amanda was gone. A young, beautiful, quirky, caring, and hardworking woman, and all I could give her was a blinking cursor. Amanda had been here long before I came on the scene. Always the eternal optimist, she revved the life into this shitty ass company where no one wanted to be. She was even the first person to say hi to me. I took her kindness as overly cheery, peppy, and disingenuous. At least misery was honest. What was she trying to do?

I stayed there all night, watching the sun fall beneath the high-rise buildings. I heard people bustle in and out, their voices soft and mournful, but no one would really be in today, it was Friday.

Come on, Harvey, what are you so afraid of? You can’t have writer's block about a person for God's sake. I glanced across the room and asked Amanda what to do. She smiled out at me curiously, tilting her head connivingly like she always did.
“It’s not you, I swear! I just…I can’t, all right? I got nothing!” I yelled.
“You have nothing to say about me? Come on, Harvey, I know you better than that.”
“What if I mess it up? What if you know I messed up?” I cried, “I’m sorry…”
“You won’t, I believe in you. You always find the right words. No one’s going to read it anyway,” she chuckled, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

Amanda, Amanda, Amanda…

“God, Harvey! Have you been here all night? You look like shit!” Jasper gasped, nudging me. I jolted awake, my computer long dark, the morning sun glinting through the windows.
“I was just at Amanda’s apartment, her Aunt is there,” Jasper groaned, rolling his eyes. “I don’t even know if she’s a real person or not. Maybe she killed Amanda, but the police said it wasn’t foul play. It was just an accident.”
“An accident? So that’s it, then? One accident in a studio apartment and she’s…gone?” I blathered, still in disbelief. “And… her Aunt is there? What rock did she crawl out from under? Who is she?”
“She’s obviously just there to take what she wants and sell everything else off to the highest bidder. It’s fucking depressing. She’s a shyster and said Amanda never left a will.”

I groaned, knowing what Shirttail relatives were like. There was a reason I lived 2,500 miles away from everyone I shared genetics with.

“You’ll figure it out, Harvey, look, I gotta go all right?” he said, whacking me on the back.

Finally, I straightened. The deadline was approaching for the newspaper and there was never a deadline I couldn’t meet. I cracked my neck and stared my cursor down once again. Suddenly, I remembered something Amanda would do when she was stuck on an idea, taking all of her colored Post-its and writing freely on them, sticking them all over the wall of her cubicle, only then would she know the answer.

I walked over to her desk and borrowed her Post-it stacks. What a damn brilliant idea. What a goddamn maniac she was.

Green, purple, yellow, red, orange—sections of her life began pouring from my pen, the computer completely forgotten, all the little moments of Amanda flowing onto the colorful square pages.

The potlucks, the birthdays, the holiday celebrations, the vapid office traditions that I hated, but that made everything better—she made everything better—the encouragement she would give, the communications team when everyone wanted to quit, the feel of the building with her in it… Amanda, Amanda, Amanda, you will be remembered right.