DotT - Chapter One: Late Again

It was a Tuesday morning when the things with the tentacles took over. Tommy recalled this day for the few survivors he met along the way. Every Tuesday morning, Tommy would meet at the equivalent of the water cooler for the NFL week in review with Sam Baxter and Chris Haver meaning they stood together in front of the Coke machine in the lobby of the office building leasing space to Lawyer and Lawyer, LLC. The humor of the naming by the partners was a big reason for Tommy to seek the paralegal position there. Sam appeared one day at Tommy's desk one Tuesday morning launching into a rant on the Eagles taking Michael Vick and the implications of youth tormenting animals leading to sociopath behavior. Tommy placed the Farmer brief back on top of his "to read" pile so as not to lose his place. A voice over his shoulder joined in relating a story of a case from two years back in which a man had a history of capturing and torturing woodland animals in his youth before he was brought to court for being pulled over with the hands of twelve dead men in the glove box of his car. They, of course, defended him and attempted to claim the hands came with the car and there was no proof he had indeed killed these men, They lost the case, but it had lead to the running joke about having 24 hands in a glove box but no pairs of gloves. Chris and Sam became Tommy's closest work friends ever from that point forward.

This morning, however, Tommy was running late to work. He directed the front end of his Taurus through the parking lot and quickly into the only spot available far from the elevator in the parking garage. he was certain he would be reprimanded for his late arrival by the partners when he saw that Marian Fisher was still in her car in the reserved parking spot near the elevator. She did not look at him as he passed or attempt to get out of her car. The only thing she seemed to take notice of was the odd green boa she had brought along to work that day. Tommy chuckled at the odd sense of humor of his bosses as he continued along to the elevator bank. He did not grasp that the boa around Marian's neck was not a joke or made of feathers as he had initially thought. He barely caught the unassisted movement of the boa as the elevator doors closed. In sixty seconds, Tommy was at street level and crossing Randolph to his office. He gave a friendly yet unhelpful wave to the homeless man curled up on the sidewalk next to the front door in the green army jacket with the odd looking green tubes wrapped around his chest. "Anything to stay warm in that situation, I suppose," Tommy thought to himself. He would wrap himself in White Castle burger wrappers if it would help him survive a cold Chicago night without a home.

A squeal erupted from behind him as Tommy pulled the front door toward him and stepped on something squishy. Without looking back, he slid his shoes across the mats inside the front door and picked up the pace to minimize his tardiness. He waved to Hank at the security desk and rushed by the elevator bank as Hank screeched at Tommy rushing past. Hank also had a strange sense of humor, but never had the vocal range to pull off a sound so eerie. "Good for Hank," thought Tommy as he slammed his finger onto the button for the fifth floor. Two minutes of muzak ripped through the pleasant silence of the day forcing Tommy to look around for something to take his attention away from the torment of the instrumental version of MacArthur Park. The ticking up of the numbers was little distraction, but the smears of red on the elevator buttons on the opposite side of the elevator combined with the green glop on the short carpeting of the elevator. It appeared like a struggle had occurred here but Tommy was far too late this morning to spend his brain power thinking that over as the doors open and Tommy launched himself into the weirdest work day of his life.