Escape

“Oh, no!” Sona jumped off her chair causing it to flip, and fall next to Katrina’s station. The girls working at nearby machines were startled. Not looking at anyone's face, Sona ran through the workroom, out the door and through the hallway to the lunchroom mumbling to herself the entire way “no, no, God! How could I forget? Please God don’t let anyone find it.”

Panting, Sona zoomed into the lunchroom. Kathy was standing beside a recycling bin and slowly flipping through the pages of a little black notebook. Sona’s heart sank. Kathy was the second shift supervisor and the kindest of all the people in charge. “That, um, that’s” Sona stuttered, pointing to the notebook. Sona struggled with English in general, but when she was nervous, she could hardly formulate a proper sentence at all. “This,” Kathy shook the book in her hand, “is yours? That’s what you’re saying?” Sona silently nodded, a wave of emotions pouring over her: embarrassment, guilt, fear. She became a little girl again, waiting to be yelled at or made fun of. But Kathy didn’t do any of those things. “You wrote these?” She asked. Not knowing how to answer, Sona stared at Kathy, trying to decipher her emotions. Kathy’s curious eyes widened in amazement when she took Sona’s silence as a “yes.”

Kathy opened a random page and read out loud:

"I visited the sun this morning

on the bank of the River

She greeted me with a big

sugary smile. She touched

my face gently and kissed

my body all over and felt

my pain. Through my skin

she reached inside

to the dark place, which

was hurting. She held it in her

motherly arms and rocked

my pain with a humble lullaby

when finally, it fell asleep, the pain

I tiptoed home to not awaken

the sleeping beast again. "

“I’m sorry Sona, I didn’t mean to read your notebook, but it was in the recycling bin. Girl, this is so beautiful. I’m surprised. I didn’t know you could write like this. You are a writer, a poet. What are you doing here?” “ I . . .I came to grab my book.” Sona stuttered again. “No, I’m asking why are you working here?” Kathy smiled. “You have to send these to a publisher!” “What? No!”

Suddenly Sona remembered she left her machine running. “Oh no! I’m dead.” She quickly grabbed the notebook from Kathy and ran back towards the workroom. She slowed down to take a breath when she approached the big door. Thought she could sneak in without being noticed, Sona tippoed in. But Meany-Mary, her shift manager, was already standing beside her machine like a tall, hairy-scary monster waiting for her return. She didn’t even turn off the machine. Although she was scared, Sona also got upset for being treated like a child.

“Where have you been?” Mary’s cold voice hurt her ears. For a moment Sona wanted to say she was in the bathroom, but then realized Mary was staring at the little black notebook Sona held against her chest. “That book, again?!” Mary almost shouted, trying to grab it. “Yeah, I forgot it in the lunchroom.” Sona muttered, quickly walking past Mary and sitting down, slipping the book into her bag. She ignored Mary’s previous attempt at stealing it. “What’s in it anyway? Why do you carry it around all day? You act like it’s more important than your job.” “It’s nothing “ Sona mumbled, “just my notes about my work. I’m still learning.” “Do you know how many people want this job right now? And you have it. This is how you show appreciation? Leaving your machine running for an hour while you do whatever? Now you’ll stay an extra hour and make up for the time you were gone; without pay. I’ll be watching you.”

“These immigrants, taking all our jobs, and they don’t even want to move their asses to do the work. Ungrateful people.” Mary muttered under her breath as she headed back to her office.

“What did she say?” Katrina stood up from her station, not being able to take it anymore. She chuckled sarcastically walking around Sona’s table, mocking Mary. “You immigrants, do all the work I wanted to do. You work like a horse in a dark, windowless dump, with no fresh air and sunlight, and I have to pay you $9 per hour for 30 years. Now see what you’ve done. You made me sit in my office and sip my coffee all day.” Katrina paused and turned around “Oh, no! I almost forgot! I got a raise. Guess what, 25 cents more per hour after 15 years of work. Ungrateful me.”

Sona noticed Kathy approaching her station. “Not again” she mumbled, making herself busy. Although she knew Kathy was standing by her chair, she didn’t raise her head. Kathy knocked on her table to get attention. “Look,” Kathy whispered, “I don’t want to bug you or anything, but your writing is really good! You could be an inspiration to many people, people who have the same struggles. I’ve seen how your face lights up when you’re with your notebook. You look so happy.” “Yeah, I call it my escape.” A sad grin pulled at Sona’s face. “Exactly, and you’re good at it! What are you doing?” Kathy gently nudged her shoulder. “I’m, I’m working, paying my bills, doing my responsibilities. I’m...” “Killing yourself.” Kathy finished her sentence. Sona chuckled humorlessly “That’s exactly what I wrote the other day.” She took out the notebook from her bag and flipped to the last page, showing it to Kathy.

“Yes, you can call me a murderer for I

killed another eight hours today. While

the trees danced in the sunlight

branch in branch and the morning breeze

kissed the surface of the rippled water

making little, rebel waves crack.

I killed an hour after an hour

running the needle on a fabric

making a dress that I can

never afford to wear myself.”

“Listen,” Sona whispered, “I can’t afford to leave. I already tried; I quit my job to write. Nothing happened, except I was almost homeless. My English is not good; there are millions of mistakes on those pages. Also, I’m 55. I can’t do it again.” “You don’t have to quit your job,” Kathy insisted,” you don’t have to do anything. I can ask my friend, she’s a successful blogger. She knows people.” “I don’t know. I have to work. I’m already in a lot of trouble.” Sona grabbed the notebook and hid it in between the sewing stuff in a big bin beside her machine. Kathy stood there for a few seconds watching her work anxiously, then leaned down and whispered, “at least think about it. Please.” She tapped on Sona’s shoulder and left.

Sona worked until late that day. She was exhausted by the day’s events. Mary’s bitter, sarcastic voice yelled behind her when she left “Be on time tomorrow!”

A cold breeze hit her face as Sona walked to the bus stop. The sun was setting already. The days we’re getting shorter. Winter’s coming, I need new boots. Sona thought. Sorrow sank in her heart. She was barely making ends meet as is. How long do I have to live like this? Then she remembered the call she got yesterday from her niece. Sona’s sister was ill. They needed money. Sona’s eyes welled up. She wanted to scream.

Sona went to bed right after dinner. She had no will to even think.

In the early morning, while packing her bag to leave for work, Sona realized her notebook was missing. “Not again!” she yelled out “What’s wrong with me?”

Arriving at work early, Sona went to the bin right away. But the notebook wasn’t there. She checked all around her workstation. Impossible! She thought. No one gets into my bin. Suddenly, she heard Mary’s voice in her head “Be on time tomorrow!”

Hesitantly, Sona walked into Mary’s office. Mary was hanging her coat in the closet. “You scared me!” she exclaimed when turning around and seeing Sona, standing in the doorway. “For Christ’s sake, Sona. Let me wake up first. What do you want?” “Did you . . . have you by any chance, seen my notebook?” Sona replied. “What do you mean?” Mary’s aggravated voice queried. “I forgot it in my bin yesterday. Did you take it? I mean you were the last person here when I left.” “Are you accusing me for stealing your precious notebook? Is that what you’re asking?” Mary’s face turned red. “No! I mean, maybe you saw it, somewhere. I can’t find it.” Sona mumbled again. “I know my job. I don’t need your stupid notes in your dumb notebook.” Mary walked forward, banking Sona out of the room. “Now, get back to work, or else you’ll be staying late. Again.” She slammed the door in Sona’s face.

Making up millions of scenarios in her head, Sona couldn’t concentrate all day. She couldn't imagine loosing her notebook, her dear friend, her only friend whom she could tell everything.

After lunch Sona looked for Kathy. Not finding her, she asked Katrina, and learned that Kathy was on a sick leave.

Two days passed since the notebook had gone missing, and Kathy was still sick. Sona was hesitant to call her. She hated calling people unless it was an emergency. Finally, this is an emergency, she thought and made the call. Kathy’s voicemail answered. It was Friday. Sona decided not to leave a message and wait until Monday instead, to talk with her in person.

Kathy didn’t show up on Monday either, nor the day after. Finally, on Wednesday, Sona had no choice to ask Mary when she saw her marching by. “Is Kathy feeling better?” She asked. “ Kathy isn’t sick.” Mary frowned. “She’s on training. Won’t be back until next Wednesday. I’m here, why do you need her?” “No reason; I just heard she was sick.” Sona murmured.

A few days later, one afternoon Sona’s phone rang. Worried it might be about her sister Sona immediately answered. But it wasn’t her sister. It was a call Sona thought she would only get in her dreams.

The next day for the first time ever, Sona couldn’t wait to get to work and barely made it till the afternoon. Finally, Kathy showed up. Sona rushed to her. “You!” she exclaimed, “You took my notebook!” “Yes, and . . .” Kathy grinned, “you don’t seem sad about it. Did anyone contact you?” “Yes, I got a call. I can’t believe it. It’s like a dream.” Tears filled Sonas' eyes. “They want to publish my book. They offered me 20,000 dollars!” Sona could barely breathe. “I’ve never held such an amount of money in my hands.” “Plus there will be royalties, right?” Kathy winked. “Yes.” Sona chuckled. “Now I can pay for my sister’s medicine. And buy myself new boots for winter! And . . .” “You can quit this job and find something more suitable for a published author.” Whispering her ear Kathy finished Sona's sentence.

The two women hugged, laughing, and danced in the middle of the room. They didn’t even notice how everyone paused staring at them in confusion. Finally, Mary asked what was wrong with them. When Kathy explained, Mary looked perplexed. “Hm,” she muttered, “I knew there was something about that notebook.” She marched her office and shut the door.

One beautiful spring morning, Sona received a package in the mail. She opened the box right away, her heart dancing from joy. In the box, there was a little black book with her name on it. “Escape” Sona read the title. Then she took out her old black notebook, hugging it gently and whispered “Thank you.”