Tapping the tip of my pen on my desk, I stare at my inbox to the email account I have. It's a company email which I got on my second day here; which was two days ago.
Looking around my office, strange to think of this place as mine even if I've had an eternity to settle in, I observe the lacking workload.
Azrael has not contacted me for three days now, even though our offices are one yard away. And because I've had nothing to do, most of my time has been spent sitting in here. Staring at the wall of just trying to organize insipid shelves. When the room was not entertaining, I wandered the Garner building. Talked with the security guard and also found the gym three floors below. Levi said I could use it, and he along with another specific somebody is allowed to utilize it.
That somebody, being Azrael. The hoarder of work.
Tapping the pen of mine on the desk more, I look up at a clock I brought in to hang to my right and a little up. My tapping is a tango to the hands of the clock, which ticks along to form a base rhythm. The list that Azrael handed me earlier this week literally is garbage as I haven't accomplished anything . It lays on my desk, idle to the tap of my pen as I stare at it with a pout.
If I'm going to just sit around, and Azrael is not even going to bother giving me things to fulfill the exact things I'm supposed to, then my job seems rather pointless. From my background, I've been raised to do my job. My upbringing has told me that if I surrender myself to an occupation, then I'm going to follow through. Maybe I have chivalry, or maybe it's not that as it seemingly died off long ago. But I know that for now, I am being paid, and I need to reciprocate this reality.
Pushing my chair out, I walk over to my office door before stepping out. Azrael's office door is in my face. I knock on it.
"Come in," replies Azrael, and I enter.
Inside, more papers are scattered around the floor with the desk equally cluttered. On the edge of his desk is an ashtray with a modest pile of ash. I smell the smoke, and one of his fingers is bandaged. It's obvious that he's been puffing. And his shirt collar is askew as one dips lower than the other.
Looking up from his work, it takes him a second to realize who I am before he jumps in his chair and coughs once.
"Ah! Hogarth! Um...what can I assist you with?" he asks as he fixes his collar.
"Well, I think I'm supposed to assist you, in reality," I say as evenly as I can as I walk closer to his desk.
Doing so I notice more of his face is pale and there seems to be bruised-color pockets under his eyes. And his skin looks a different shade of Frankenstein grey from the last time I saw him. Memory isn't the most reliable source of knowledge but can be reliable in instances of succinct necessity. This is one of those moments.
"Um, I...er..." Azrael stutters as he tries to think of something to reply to me.
His eyes dart to the ash tray before at me, then they're back.
"And I'm also supposed to stop you from smoking. Levi told me that much," I also say.
"I," says Azrael as he tries to say something, but then stopping, just slumping in his chair in defeat.
"I have nothing to say," he says as he looks down, not at me, who sits across him at one of the leather chairs.
This setting where I appear to be vituperating my own boss is not normal to say the least. Not to mention how I'm technically hired by his subordinate; Levi. And what makes it almost risible is the fact that Azrael is not resisting this situation and is literally feeling guilty for what he may have done wrong.
Surrounded by the stacks of paper on his desk, It's obvious that even though he had work, he didn't try to give me any, and what Levi told me about Azrael's appetency to not allocate work to anybody else but himself is present.
"You know," I say as I recall what Levi said to me one the first day I got here, "Levi told me that you tend to hoard work. I didn't know what exactly that meant at that point. But I guess I do now."
What I say could have been the last nail in his coffin, as Azrael slumps further in his chair. Then he looks up from his downcast posture and connects eyes with me.
"I will bring you some work later...to do," he says quietly.
I could have the assignments now, but I guess this is better than nothing.
"Well," I say as I stand from the leather chair, "I still have to take this," I say as I take the ash tray on the edge of the desk.
"And I can guess that you have cigarettes," I say to a pouting Azrael staring at his departing ash tray.
Wordlessly, he pulls a pack of them out of his suit pocket and hands it to me. Though this seems far too easy to be over.
"Is this all the cigarettes you have?" I ask as I connect my eyes with his grey ones. Who knows? He might be honest to a fault.
Azrael hesitates, and starts to make a Y noise with his mouth before halting and then saying "No." I guess he is honest. But to a fault I don't know as of now.
He stands up to goes over to the cabinets and bookshelves to the back and right of the room. Strangely, his posture when sitting would evince a poor gait as well. But instead, he walks over to there with a strong step and without any swaying. It surprises me, that it takes me a second to notice the scene before me with the open drawer and at least a dozen shiny plastic-encased cigarette packs.
"You have that many?" I ask appalled, my question getting clogged in my throat due to my shock.
The question makes Azrael wince as he shudders away from me, and hangs his head.
"I'm addicted," he says in withering defense.
"Well," I say as I compose myself and then step forward to start pulling them out, "I will be taking these. And I would say not to get any more, to you."
"I will do as you say," says Azrael, and the look he gives me tells me that he's being honest and is going to attempt to stick to his word. Maybe his honesty is reliable.
"So you will stop by my office, maybe later, to give me something to do?" I ask in confirmation as I walk over to the door with my arms full of the packs. I somehow balance the ashtray as well.
"Yes!" says Azrael in response from across the office, "I will do so."
"Okay then," I say as I open the door to step out. Hopefully he's telling the truth.
"Oh, I need you lighter too."
.......................................
It's been a few hours since the conversation with Azrael and my taking the packs. I gave them all to Levi, who was to say the least wide-eyed when he saw the harvest. I think he got rid of the stuff.
I set my work bag down next to my other bag containing my work-out clothes that I brought after pulling some loose leaf paper from it. I thought of working out later today after work as I'm allowed access to the facility. Maybe lift some weights. Back home on the ranch there's always been work to be done, and I guess that's shaped my wide shoulders and tall height.
I hear a knock on my door as I turn back to my seat to which I reply "Enter."
The door cracks open, and I black tiny boot slips through the crack and a hand reaches out and around the wood door to make space for a body to pass through. Azrael's black-hair head appears with his shoulders as he enters, his grey eyes fearful for some reason as he moves into the room.
"Hello, Hogarth," he says in his raspy voice, "I...I brought some...err...work that I would like for you to do for me."
Sure enough, he has some papers in his hand. Not a paucity, but a sure amount. Papers held together with paper clips and a few with stapled bundles.
"If there is any difficulty," he says as he sets them down on my desk where I gratefully take it, "let me know and I should be able to help."
"Thank you. I think though as your assistant I should be asking if there's anything you need any help in. Not the other way around."
"I...yes, you're right," admits Azrael, "I'm afraid I'm quite new to having an assistant."
"I'm pretty sure you'll get used to it quickly," I say with a smile.
"I...I hope so," he says. I notice again that his face is rather pale.
"Do you want to sit?" I ask as I stand up and pull the extra chair behind me around the desk to him.
"Oh! No thank you. I'll leave your office in a minute so that I can get back to my work. But, I also have this," says Azrael as he hands me the paper that was still in his hand to me, "as this is an updated list that I think will allow for you to assist me further."
Glancing at the list, the first three are the same. But the following additions are interesting to read.
Check in with health
Help in reducing workload
Be a reliable helper
Stop by my office every morning for work
Make sure I go home every night at a good time
Plan things for me during the weekends
Plan other activities I need to do
Assist in other miscellaneous errands
Should be straightforward in doing this kind of stuff. Miscellaneous errands? I don't know exactly what that is, but I'm pretty sure that it's not anything serious.
"I was also thinking," says Azrael, "that since you know more about being healthy than myself, if you could put a list together of what you think I should do."
"Like this list?" I ask as I indicate the paper.
"Yes, something like that," replies Azrael.
"That shouldn't be an issue. I'll get it to you by tomorrow. You'll get it first thing tomorrow."
"Thank you. I will be going now."
Giving my work seems to have lifted weight from his shoulders as he his posture is better than earlier; as if he;s not as guilty of his previous actions. Walking out the door to my office is followed by him coughing twice before clearing his throat. His office door sounds as he enters his own office.
Turning down to look at the multiple bundles of paper and the folders with, I look through them to see what Azrael has brought me. It's nice that he's done so, and it also is nice how he's left little labels on them to indicate when he needs them done by and any crucial details in need of delineation.
Most of them I should be able to accomplish, but the look of Azrael when he entered is at the front of my head. He looked...scared. Thinking back, he's looked like that quite often. Sad and scared. Well, more sad. It's not pleasant to see, and I have a desire to change that.
Looking down on my desk, I start to work through the assignments. This'll be how I help him out. Hopefully my assistance will help him improve his state.