The Right Shoes

Ella Derby pulled the chair back collapsing into the seat. She pushed the button to turn on the computer. It whirred and beeped at her as it warmed into action. She couldn't help but compare that waking produced no whirring or beeping noises for her. Maybe there was a button that she forgot to push? A button somewhere on her elbow, or her belly button that would warm her into action, well if there was one she hadn't located it in all her years.

A box was placed beside her and she jumped. She turned to look at the woman who had practically thrown it down beside her on the desk. It was her boss, Margaret Lowe.

Margaret wore white framed glasses that disappeared into her strawberry blonde wig where the stems should have disappeared behind the ears. She pursed her lips at Ella.

"I need you to do white mail today."

Ella stared at her for a moment and then managed a strained smile.

"Today is my birthday," Ella offered.

"Happy birthday. Now, if you finish this I have more."

With that Margaret Lowe disappeared to her desk.

White mail was a term given to mail that would not be scannable. Most of the mail received at the Easterly Publishing Company arrived in blue envelopes and was processed by scanning the customer's information into the database. White mail was simply envelopes written by hand from the customers. Often they contained complaints, of which there were many, or just suggestions or comments. Usually the white mail held a lot of address changes or "where is my magazine?" questions. Each one had to be opened and dealt with individually. It was tedious and time consuming, not to mention mind numbing work.

A head popped over the cubicle wall.

"Did I hear you right? Today's your birthday?"

Ella looked up at her co-worker, Debbie During, better know as DD.

"Yeah," Ella sighed.

"You should have taken the day off," DD offered and then disappeared.

"Yeah," Ella sighed again.

She arranged the box of white mail to her right side and turned on her desk lamp. She pulled her reading glasses from her purse. The eyes were getting more and more tired with each birthday. She pulled the first envelope from the box and opened it. Address change. The second envelope was a complaint and the third was a threat. It still amazed her how upset people became if their magazine was not in their mailbox the exact same day each month.

Several envelopes in, Ella came to a letter from a Mrs. Whitmore in Nebraska. The lady wrote that she had been a subscriber for over thirty years and collected each one of the magazines. Ella had visions of stacks of glossy covers in Mrs. Whitmore's house.

Ella pushed her chair back. She needed coffee. The break room was empty for once. She poured her coffee and then added the cream. Staring dreamily into the liquid as she blended the cream, she thought about her life. She envied Mrs. Whitmore.

"I bet she has someone to celebrate a birthday with. She's probably a happy person surrounded by her glossies."

"Morning Ella."

Ella straightened up. It was Peter Hastings the editor of the magazine. She smiled at him. He filled his coffee cup and left the break room.

For the past ten years she worked for Easterly Publishing, she had prayed that Peter Hastings would discover what a gem she really was. She wanted to be more than she was. There had to be more, right?

She took her coffee and returned to her desk.

DD popped over the cubicle again.

"Did you hear?"

Before Ella could shake her head no, DD filled her in.

"Margaret's got Sandi in the office."

Ella glanced over at the closed door.

"I bet she's giving Sandi the Lead Scanner position."

Ella stared at the door hoping she could see through the wood panels into the plush pink world of Margaret and what was being said. Sandi didn't deserve the Lead Scanner position, she did. She had put in her time. She had done her duty, endured the endless days of doing white mail and being ignored. She was fifty-eight today and time was running out. Sandi was twenty-two and wore high heels. Margaret graded on style of dress -the professional look- rather than work ethics. Sandi took every other day off. Ella was always at work.

The door opened a few minutes later and Margaret and Sandi emerged in smiles. Margaret rang the bell and attention in the office was turned to her.

"I have an announcement to make," Margaret surveyed the room. "Sandi has agreed to accept the Lead Scanner position. Let's all congratulate her."

Faces once looking at Margaret turned to Ella. She could feel her face turning red and as much as she wanted to stop herself from standing she could not. She thought about Mrs. Whitmore collecting magazines, about Peter Hastings with his elbow patches and smiles that would never promote her to the next level. She thought about Sandi dropping boxes of white mail on her desk and then clicking off on her high heels.

"No," Ella said. "I deserve it. I've earned it. It's my birthday for God sakes!"

"Go girl," DD whispered.

Margaret took a step forward as she spoke, "God doesn't have anything to do with your job."

It was like a thunder bolt hitting Ella. She pushed the box of white mail to the floor. She gathered her things glaring at Margaret.

The sun felt warm on her face as she left the building. She paused looking at the sky and smiling. What a beautiful day for a birthday.