I Can't See Myself Coming In Today

Dear Swan-Diving Gypsies,

I wrote this one a while ago based on a writing prompt in a workshop. The idea was to have someone be caught where they weren't supposed to be. Here's my take on it.

-Matt


"Cough, Cough" By Matt Mok

The familiar shorn head from five tables away reflects the bright sun in my direction. I quickly duck my head, and reposition myself so that Lucy is blocking the line of sight. She gives me a funny look, to which I smile and straighten back up, but still unseen by the man with the shaved head. She takes the final bite of her sandwich, some mustard squirting out its bottom and onto her puffy down vest.

"Damn," she says. She shifts in her seat and reaches for a napkin from the holder. I mirror her motions with precision, unwilling to lose her as my shield, my ski pants swishing as I shift in my seat.

"Don't move," I hiss.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Just don't move."

"You're acting nuts," she says, swipes at the crumbs on her lap, and starts to get up.

"Stop!" I grab her hand and she delivers a look that could freeze all the slush on the slopes. "See that guy over there? The one with the green scarf? No! Don't look!"

She rolls her eyes and yanks her arm back. "You can keep your crazy to yourself. I'm going for another run." She bends down to lace up her snowboard boots, completely giving away my position, so I dive under the table, upending my chair and spilling my soda.

Lucy peers down at me huddling beneath the gum-cemented table. "What has gotten into you?"

"That guy, he works for me."

"Oh...and he has cooties? What?"

"No, I called in sick to come out here today. He can't see me. Do you think he saw me?"

"No, your neon blue jacket provides the perfect camouflage. Who cares? He's here too, isn't he? What's his excuse?"

"He's supposed to be here. He told me about his last week he was using a vacation day, I just didn't know he was coming here."

"Oh. Still, you're his boss. Not the other way around."

"If he sees me, he might tell others. And then what? I'm their supervisor. How would that look?"

The look on Lucy's face says that she doesn't understand or doesn't care. It might be both. "Do you think he saw me?" I say.

My phone's ring startles me. The caller ID says it's him. He saw me.

"It's him," I whisper.

"Answer it."

I consider my options, but there is no scenario where I shouldn't be answering. I'm supposed to be sick, not deaf.

"Hello?" My voice is soft.

"Tom, it's Jason." His voice sounds hoarse, terrible.

"Hi Jason."

"Sorry, Tom, but I don't think I'll be able to come in tomorrow." It is somewhat surreal to hear the coughs coming through the phone and echoed from a few tables away at the same time. "I'm wicked sick. Doctor says it might be flu and told me to stay home for a couple of days."

I'm speechless.

"Tom?"

"Right," I say. "Sorry to hear about that, Jason. See you Wednesday."

Lucy looks at me expectantly. "Well?"

I get up from my hiding place and look over at Jason. He's sitting at the table talking with friends, his back to me. I grab Lucy's bottle of water off the table. "Are you done with this?" I ask with a grin.

Jason is preoccupied with joke-telling when I arrive. I give him a hearty pat on the back that makes him cough. He looks up at me, bewildered.

"Wow," I say. "That is a bad cough." I put the bottle of water on the table. "Remember to drink plenty of fluids."