Thomas popped a cup from the attached dispenser and triggered the tap.
“It’ll cool down in a bit,” said one of the workmen.
Thomas sipped from the cup. “Why did we get one?” he asked.
“Mr. Destiny ordered them. Said every break room gets one. Big pain, though, carting them in.”
“Why now? We’ve been asking for water coolers for years,” said Thomas.
The workman gave him a look. “Why do you think? You guys are trying to unionize, right?” He waved his hand at the water cooler. “He’s trying to play nice so you think you don’t need to. That’s the game, isn’t it?” He chuckled as he wheeled the dolly away. His companion followed him out.
Left alone with his trainee, Thomas crumpled the empty paper cup into a hard ball and hurled it into the trash can.
“I heard about that,” the trainee said. “The union thing.”
Thomas turned to him. “Yeah? What did you hear?”
“They’re giving out free t-shirts underground. They say ‘Vote No.’ Anybody can have one.”
Thomas felt like he’d just gone down a steep drop on the roller coaster. “Listen, why don’t you go shadow Maribel at the front entrance for a few minutes. I have to run an errand.”
Free of his trainee, he moved as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached the underground corridor. No sooner had he turned down the main hallway than he saw a table piled high with t-shirts in all sizes. Crew members from a variety of departments stood before the table, holding up one shirt after another to find the right size.
After all, money is tight for most of us, and a free shirt is a free shirt. Damn it.
What he wouldn’t do for an unlimited budget. He’d print a thousand “Vote Yes” t-shirts. He’d take out radio and TV ads by the dozen, print a thousand leaflets and hire an army to leave them on every car in the crew member parking lot. He’d hire a plane and write “Vote Yes” across the sky above Destiny Park.
Instead, he stood helplessly by as one crew member after another collected a free t-shirt and ambled away.
Vanessa
After far too many hurricane updates, Vanessa stalked out of the break room.
Back in the office, she searched her bookshelves for relevant manuals. “Hurricanes,” she said. “Weather? Disasters?” She seized a binder labeled “Disaster Preparedness” and hauled it off the shelf, dropping it on her desk with a thud. “Lovely,” she said, paging through the dire material and promising herself to read it later.
In the meantime, Charlotte had delivered a packet from Events Management. The packet contained statistics on one of the event spaces available for the Halloween party: occupancy, square footage, catering and bar equipment. It did not, however, contain any photos. The only descriptive information to be found was the name of the space.
“Aquarium Room,” she read aloud.
She recalled that Discovery had an aquarium-themed attraction. Could there be a hidden room inside the aquarium?
She called Events Management and spoke to an event coordinator, who agreed to meet her at the attraction in a few minutes. Vanessa emerged upstairs in Discovery, near the Coffee Garden, and followed the signs through a tunnel filled with green vines and blooming orchids. The tunnel opened to reveal a rock facade glinting with dozens of waterfalls, large and small.
The sign, crafted in blue glass mosaic, read “Aquaverse.”
Vanessa faced the entrance and felt the mist from the waterfalls blow into her face. Although refreshing, it brought her no closer to discovering the Aquarium Room, so she approached the crew member stationed at the entrance.
“Where would I find the Aquarium Room?” she asked.
The crew member directed her to a side entrance that led to a hallway skirting the perimeter of the attraction. A flight of stairs took her up one more level to reach a plain set of double doors. She pushed one open and stepped inside.
The dark room smelled of wood and water. Vanessa groped for a light switch. The lights revealed a circular room with a broad middle column, like a wagon wheel with an oversized spoke. The wood-paneled outer walls added a luxurious touch.
The event coordinator bustled into the room before Vanessa had a chance to explore. “This your first company party?” she asked.
“Yes,” said Vanessa. “This is quite a space.”
“Usually it’s reserved for corporate clients. I’m surprised they’re letting it go to the crew members,” the coordinator said. “Of course, it will look even better when it’s dressed.”
“Dressed?”
“We bring in plants, lights, table decorations, the works,” said the coordinator.
Vanessa was impressed. “But why is it called the Aquarium Room?”
“Didn’t you know?” The coordinator reached for an untouched light switch. As she flipped it on, the central column lit up from the inside, revealing a glowing cylindrical aquarium teeming with sea life.
As Vanessa watched, a shark spiraled lazily up the column.
Chapter 10
Vanessa
With the hurricane preparations complete, Vanessa never wanted to hear the phrase “hunker down” again for the rest of her life.
She double-checked the list of ride-out volunteers, all of whom she didn’t know.
Except one.
The final roster included Vanessa, a handful of college-aged crew members, and Thomas.
A slumber party with a hurricane outside, Charlotte had said.
Unbidden, the thought of Thomas in red plaid flannel pajamas sprang to mind.
She imagined her pajamas to be green, and printed with flying coffee cups.
Vanessa rubbed her eyes as if to clear away the thought. After one last, absurd picture of the two of them clinking mugs of hot chocolate brimming with marshmallows, she was able to concentrate on the task at hand.
The hurricane bore down with a trajectory predicted to bring the eye directly over the middle of the state.
From what Vanessa understood from the news, the park would be spared the harshest effects, but would still receive a lashing of rain and high winds—even tornados.
She ran one finger down her supply list. The catering department would lay in a supply of nonperishable goods, in case the power went out. The engineering department had already delivered a box of supplies, including flashlights and zip ties, to augment the cleanup bags dropped off by the gardening crew.