The Other McCawber Girl
by Amanda Rohrssen
Chapter Eight
Hey, don’t write yourself off yet
It’s only in your head you feel left out
Or looked down on
Just do your best, do everything you can
And don’t you worry what their bitter hearts
Are gonna say
~Jimmy Eat World, “The Middle”
She had been training all morning. When it finally slowed down, Mrs. Pennyfeather, the owner of the jewelry store, decided to let Ariana handle the place with one other sales
associate. Ariana could scarcely swallow the butterflies fluttering about in her belly and throat.
“You’ll be okay, won’t you, dear?” Mrs. Pennyfeather asked kindly as she gave Ariana a pat on the hand.
Ariana opened her mouth, a look that was a combination of fear and bashfulness flushing her face, but she didn’t have a chance to squeak out a reply.
“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. Josephine will be here to help you. Here’s your store key; keep it safe. Goodnight, dear.”
Before Ariana could even process what the elderly woman had said, Mrs. Pennyfeather had disappeared out of the door. She blinked, then stared across the glass counter at Josephine, who was busily wiping down the display cases with a rag. It looked like it would be just the two of them, whether she liked it or not.
He tucked the pistol inside of his jacket, grinning at the feel of the cold steel against his feathers. It sent a thrill through him like nothing else could, and when combined
with the rev of the Troublemaker, it nearly sent him over the top. A gleeful fit of villainous laughter pitched Negaduck off onto the streets of Saint Canard, hell-bent on
ruining more than a few citizens’ lives.
By late afternoon he’d already knocked over a couple of banks, defaced the statues in Saint Canard Memorial Park, and parked in handicapped spaces wherever he could. He was contemplating terrorizing the residents of the old folks’ home when he caught sight of a bright, cheerful sign on next corner. Immediately his eyes narrowed and he felt sick to his stomach. Something had to be done about this…and he was just the mallard for the job.
“All right, you pathetic peons, gimme all the jewels in the display cases…NOW!”
Gasps of terror immediately followed his order, and a satisfied smile crossed his prickly bill. There were only two chicks minding the store, and by the looks on their faces, this would be an easy heist.
“Oh my God, it’s Negaduck! Don’t hurt me!” Josephine shrieked, tossing her hands up in the air and racing into the backroom. The sound of the door locking behind her was unmistakable, but Negaduck only chuckled in amusement. It seemed his reputation preceded him.
“Just wait’ll she finds out I’ve already cut the phone wires…”
His eyes rested on Ariana, who hadn’t moved a single inch since he’d entered. “And don’t bother with the silent alarm, either. There isn’t anyone coming to stop me! Now, my dear…” he sneered lowly, “why don’t you make yourself useful and get the cash out of register for me while I help myself to some diamonds, hmmm?”
Ariana willed herself to speak, to say anything, but her mouth felt as paralyzed as the rest of her body. She recognized this duck as the one who had chased her out of the wharf district only a few days ago, and she counted herself lucky that he appeared not to recognize her in the slightest.
A flash of steel in the fading sunlight snapped her out of her daze, and she realized he’d pulled out his pistol. With a flick of his wrist, the weapon spun around his index finger, and he eyed her coolly from behind the black mask. She gulped, but not at the sight of the weapon.
“But…it’s – “
“Can the chit-chat, chickie, before I put a few holes through that pretty face of yours.”
Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. Pretty face? Was he patronizing her?
He growled impatiently when she didn’t move. If there was one thing he hated, it was the absence of groveling. Within seconds his finger had pulled the trigger, and the gratifying blast of gunfire and shattering glass filled the air. The mousy blonde clerk jumped and backed up against the wall.
“Now that I have your attention,” he snapped, throwing an empty brown bag at her, “the money?”
Ariana nodded feebly and moved toward the register. While she was fumbling to put the money in the bag, Negaduck scooped up all of the jewelry in the display case he’d just destroyed. Ariana’s eyes flitted between the masked duck and the cash, and she couldn’t help but wonder just who he was. Josephine had screamed some odd name before hightailing it out of there, but she hadn’t quite caught it. He certainly seemed like he’d been through this routine before and that he was even enjoying himself.
“I’ll take that,” he sneered, snatching the bag stuffed with cash out of her hands and slinging it over his shoulder with the other bag. Then he bowed grandly and pocketed his pistol with a devious glint in his eyes. “It’s been fun; we really should do this again sometime.”
That said, he slipped out of the doorway, but she didn’t relax until she heard the roar of his motorcycle fade into the distance. The knob to the backroom turned and Josephine’s head popped out tentatively.
“Is he gone…?” she whispered.
Ariana nodded.
“Good,” she breathed in relief, stepping out of the room. “That was the scariest thing that ever happened to me in my life. It’s a good thing I didn’t lose my composure, or else he might’ve gotten away with…everything…” Josephine’s eyes panned over the store without missing a single empty display casing or shard of transparent glass. Instantly the severity of what had just occurred descended over Ariana, followed by a flood of guilt.
“Wow…” Josephine breathed with finality, “are you in trouble.”
“Did you really stand up to him all by yourself?” Gloria breathed in amazement.
“Yup.”
“That’s crazy! You could have been killed! Weren’t you scared?” asked Barry.
“Apparently not as scared as Ariana. I tried to stop him, but he still got away with everything.”
“But Josephine, you’re practically a hero! At least you stood up for the store, which is more than anyone else does these days! I’ll bet Mrs. Pennyfeather’ll give you a raise! And if she doesn’t, she’s nuts!”
“But I…wasn’t…that’s not what happened…” Ariana offered feebly from where she stood a few feet outside of the cluster of store employees. Her voice wavered like a feather in the wind under their skeptical stares.
“You say that now, but wait’ll he comes back! They always return to the scene of the crime! She’ll be hiding in the ventilation system next!”
This ignited a burst of raucous laughter. Ariana’s cheeks burned scarlet. The urge to retort with the truth bubbled up in her throat, like shaken soda pop, but she kept her lips tightly closed. This time she would control herself. Let them laugh, let them jeer. Being a scapegoat was better than being an outsider, right?
“You’re lucky Mrs. Pennyfeather didn’t fire you,” her co-workers continued to chatter, apparently oblivious to her unease or, perhaps, thriving on it. “I’m actually surprised she didn’t.” “I’ll bet she just feels sorry for you.” “If you were my employee, I would have canned you!”
“It’s lucky I was there,” Josephine cut in, drawing the attention back on herself for which Ariana was undeniably grateful. “He didn’t get away with nearly as much as he would have if I…”
Her voice faded away as Ariana climbed the stairwell in the back that led to the rooftop. Tears threatened to cascade down her flushed cheeks but she didn't care. Unheeded, they numbly rained down accompanied by the bitter taste of salt that may as well have been poison. Blindly she made her way to the edge of the rooftop and loosened her fists in favor of gripping the railing lining the roof as if the building was about to collapse.
She worried that if Mrs. Pennyfeather walked in and heard her co-workers talk, she’d change her mind and let Ariana go after all, and that was the last thing Ariana wanted. She couldn’t fail again.
Yet somehow she’d already managed to mess things up, and it felt as though no matter what she tried to do, nobody genuinely liked or cared about her. Why couldn’t she be like everybody else? What was wrong with her? What was it about her that made people turn up their noses at her or altogether ignore her? Maybe she’d better give up now before things got worse, before she really hurt somebody the way she’d hurt Krysten. She didn’t deserve the life she wanted, anyway. She wasn’t good enough for anything – not a job, not her family, not even a friend like Beth.
Her gaze drifted out over the bay, the light shimmering off of the surface like glittering diamonds, and she wished she could be one of them. They experienced no fears, no worries, no sadness – only tranquility, a beautiful tranquility that, were she one of them, would consume her soul forever, and she would drift along on an endless journey and never be alone.
She sighed. What was the use in wishing if nothing came true?
He ran faster than he dared, his muscles pumping underneath him in a flurry of flesh and feathers, and a raw, untamed scream of laughter erupted from his spindly throat as he
turned his head and spotted his arch rival losing ground. The rough roofing bit into the soles of his feet and the pain felt good to his deranged mind.
“You’ll never catch me, duck!” he snarled over his shoulder.
The edge of the roof was fast approaching, but rather than slow down at the sight of it, he sped up, his black cape snapping in the wind like bat wings. With a single effortless leap, the fugitive was soaring through the air, and when his feet touched the pavement of the neighboring roof they did not stop.
“Says the duck I sent away over two dozen times in the last year!” shouted the distant but fierce voice of his enemy.
A smile poisoned with evil touched the corners of his bill. No matter how many times that deluded double of his put him in prison, he always found a way out. There was nothing in the world that could stop him. And soon –
A hard jolt halted his internal monologue, and he was thrown off balance. He’d run into somebody, a somebody who gave a shrill cry of fear as they tumbled over the edge of the building.
“Why don’t you watch where I’m going, lady?!” he roared, frustrated that his progress had been interrupted. Darkwing was only a few dozen feet away now.
Without a second glance at his victim, he shot off into the night, leaving his do-gooder counterpart to save the day and simultaneously end pursuit.
Ariana was suddenly aware that she was falling. A piercing rush of wind whipped through her feathers, and she felt tears streaming from her burning eyes. Someone had run into her, pushed her over the edge, someone wearing a long black cape and a severe blue-eyed glower. He had yelled something at her, something harsh and grating, but she only heard the tone, which was faintly recognizable above the roar of the air blasting in her ears.
The ground was racing to meet her, and it wasn’t until this hard fact hit her that she screamed a second time. Her own voice was barely familiar. It sounded hollow and distant as if it was only an echo. Then everything came to an abrupt halt. The air was pitched out of her lungs as a strong arm encircled her abdomen and cut off her drop. She could barely draw in breath and started to grow dizzy. Only the feeling of the arm and the warm body holding her tightly kept her conscious long enough to look up at the face of her rescuer.
In the darkness no colors registered except for the intensity of his twin blue eyes, so pale that they almost blended in with his scleras. She knew those eyes.
“You…” she breathed. The word barely escaped her bill before everything went dark.
It was unusual for Ariana not to be plagued by nightmares, so she was scarcely surprised to find herself jolting awake out of a sound sleep, the dredges of subconscious horror clinging to her mind’s eye. It wasn’t that she could relive every detail of the dream, or even that she could remember what it had been about, but it was that she could feel it hovering over her, weighing on her and suffocating her like poison gas. It left her shaking a little, her breaths skittering in and out of her bill in shallow leaps, and cold pricks of sweat dampening her forehead. It wasn’t every morning that Ariana would wake with so much foreboding, but it happened more often than not.
Even so, she adored the morning. The breaking dawn, the promise of a new day, and the crisp air that crept through the thin panes of glass and cooled her feathers. It was at this time of day, at this moment, that Ariana felt alive. The only thing better than waking from darkness was skating over it, the blades cutting their own path through the muddled hues of a frozen pond. It would be a few months yet before she could skate again, but she always had the morning.
It wasn’t until her eyes lighted on the blue and gray tones of her room that the events of the previous evening invaded her memory on the coattails of nightmare. Her pounding heart stilled at the remembrance of a set of blue eyes staring down at her, and a strong arm encircling her waist, silently promising protection and safety. She was alive.
How had she gotten back home? How had he known to bring her here?
In the hopes that Morgana may have answers, she sprang from beneath the thick sheets and padded through the manor. The hard wooden floors felt icy on her feet and sent chills rippling up her back. It was in the sitting room that she found her sister, lounging by the bay window, sipping black tea and staring out at their private rainfall.
Ariana’s light steps drew Morgana’s green eyes toward her, but it was moments before they returned to the present.
“Ari,” she smiled briefly. “You’re awake.”
“Yes,” said Ariana. “So it would seem.” She hesitated for an inexplicable reason, then ventured, “Morgana, how did I get here?”
Her sister blinked, then furrowed her unmarred brow. “What do you mean?”
“Last night,” Ariana clarified. “I was at work, and the last thing I remember is falling off of the roof, and –“
“Ariana, you’re not making any sense.”
“But somebody caught me. How did I get home?”
Morgana placed her teacup gingerly on the coffee table and looked at Ariana in a way that made her bristle.
“Maybe you were dreaming. You know, you still scream in your sleep.”
“Not all the time.”
“You kept me awake last night. I’m not used to it anymore. There was screaming every night at the castle in Transylvania, remember? It was like our lullaby.”
“Only after Mom died.”
“What do you want for breakfast?”
Ariana followed her sister dutifully through the house, oblivious to the seamless way Morgana had shifted the conversation, until she realized that something was missing. Her earlier defensiveness made her bold.
“Morgana?”
“Hmm?” The blood red robe grazed her calves as she paused.
Ariana pointed to an empty space along the front wall. “What happened to the couch?”
A flicker of fear overtook Morgana’s features briefly, then was gone. “What couch?”
“The one that was sitting right here,” Ariana pressed. “It was white.” And it was made up of a bunch of safes.
“Oh,” Morgana said, feigning sudden recognition. “That couch. I decided to get rid of it. It didn’t really go with anything.”
Tired of this game, Ariana decided to have out with it. “Were all of those safes yours?”
Now Morgana’s face visibly paled, which was surprising given that it was already white.
“I…don’t know what you mean.”
The tightness in her voice only strengthened Ariana’s resolve.
“Yes, you do. That couch wasn’t really a couch at all. It was just a bunch of safes covered with a sheet.”
“All right,” sighed Morgana, as if she was about to unload a heavy weight. “I’ll tell you. Just…promise not to tell anyone else, okay?”
“Okay.”
Morgana bit her lip, then continued. “It’s where I was keeping all of the money I was taking.”
“Taking?”
“Oh -- no, not taking. I meant making.”
“From the pizza topping business?”
“Yeah, that’s right. From that.”
“But I thought you said it fell through…”
Morgana fumbled only momentarily before her natural grace took over. “Oh, uh, well it did. Those were the profits I made from selling out to the competition.”
Ariana felt dissatisfied with this explanation. Morgana had never been one to quit, especially in the face of an adversary. She was much like their father in that regard – stubborn.
“But where did they go?”
“I didn’t need them anymore,” Morgana explained carefully. “I put all of my savings into a bank.”
“A bank?”
“You know, where normals store their money.”
“Oh, you mean like Father’s vault.”
Morgana shook her head. “No, they don’t keep it hidden in their homes like we do.”
“But Mr. McDuck has one; I saw it. It has a red dome and a big gold dollar sign –“
“He’s one of the few exceptions,” Morgana interrupted. “Most normals put their money into a bank account, and the bank has their own vault they put all of the money in. They keep track of your finances for you so your money won’t get mixed up with anyone else’s.”
Ariana blinked. “Really?”
She’d heard of a bank before while in Duckburg, but had never fully understood what it was or how to use it. They’d been robbed an awful lot, but the city’s hero, Gizmoduck, had put a stop to it. Ariana wondered if St. Canard had a similar vigilante who could protect citizens’ assets.
It also seemed terribly inconvenient to keep money locked away in a different building rather than keeping it at home, but Ariana was still adjusting to normal life, and she wanted to experience it to the fullest extent.
“I’ll do it, too,” she said.
“Do what?”
“Set up a bank account.” With determined steps she disappeared up the winding staircase and returned moments later with an envelope full of money and a sheepish expression. “…How do I do it?”
Now that she was, for the most part, settled within the city, Ariana found it much easier to get around. Her stride was more confident, her demeanor freer, and there were even times when she dared to hum a sweet melody to herself as she passed through. The dead trees of winter were steadily giving way to the bright and cheerful hues of spring, and a light breeze wafted between the leaves, sending a soft rustle to follow her.
Although practically every other facet of her life was comfortable for now, her work life continued to be less than ideal. Ever since the robbery her co-workers had become more and more haughty toward her, teasing her about anything from the clothing she wore to the way she spoke. It didn’t feel to Ariana like good-natured teasing, either. There was a hint of malice in their eyes and in their tone that Ariana wasn’t sure she was imagining, and the way they snickered among themselves gave her a general feeling of unease. The only person in the store that treated her with any sort of outright respect and kindness was the owner, Mrs. Pennyfeather, but the elderly avian was rarely around.
Today would be no different.
“Ariana, good, I’m glad you’re here,” Gloria said briskly as soon as she entered the store. “We’re starting a new promotion this week and we need all the signs hung up in the windows. The stepstool is over there.”
The other woman pointed toward the back closet, and Ariana felt her spirits sink a bit. She had hoped that Gloria had had another reason to be “glad” to see her aside from the fact that it meant she could delegate responsibilities to her that weren’t hers to delegate. For weeks now Gloria and Josephine had shirked their duties on to Ariana, and Ariana had been working her hardest to do the job of three people while they stood behind the counter and gossiped. She longed to become friends with her co-workers, but it seemed like no matter what she tried to do to please them they only disliked her more.
She was very aware of the fact that it was unfair of them to do this to her, that they were taking advantage of her, but she had all but given up trying to stand up for herself. The few times she had hesitantly tried to make a plea were met with scorn and a reminder that she needed to “make up” for what she had “let happen” to the store two months ago. At this point she found herself almost believing she had been responsible for the burglary somehow. That she should have been able to prevent it.
They had taken to calling her “Craven” whenever Mrs. Pennyfeather was not around, and though Ariana felt a flood of outrage when she heard the nickname, it was quelled by an equally powerful twist of guilt, which was enough to keep her quiet and focused on Gloria’s, Josephine’s, and her work duties. So it was with resoluteness that Ariana retrieved the stepstool from the back closet and began hanging the obnoxiously bright SALE signs in the front display windows.
Every time she heard the muffled snickers of the other two women behind her, she wondered if they were making fun of her under their breath. She couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she couldn’t help but feel that she was the object of their ridicule. It seemed a natural conclusion; she had been the object of ridicule for many people throughout her life. Even so, that didn’t make the sting of it hurt any less. She wished she knew what she could do differently to be accepted. She had already tried everything she knew how to do and nothing seemed to work. It left her feeling despondent, whereas outside of work she was perfectly fine…most of the time.
The little bell above the door chimed as a young couple entered, and Ariana glanced over her shoulder to watch them. Her first impulse was to greet them and find out what they were there for, but Gloria and Josephine were right there. She figured they would step in and help. Josephine glanced up her way, annoyance clear in her gaze, and Ariana turned around and pretended to tend to the sign. After a minute or so, Josephine’s voice rang sharply through the store.
“Can I help you with something?”
The couple smiled at one another before the tall, lanky man answered, “We’re here to look at engagement rings.”
Immediately Josephine’s attitude shifted. “Oh, that’s great! Princess cut or…?”
His fiancée nodded enthusiastically. “Please! What else is there?”
“I know, right?” Josephine gushed, leading them toward the display at the far end. “It’s got to be the prettiest of all of the…”
The conversation faded in Ariana’s ears as she began to feel a familiar sense of envy creep in. Rarely did the feeling invade her senses, but when it did, it was very hard to think of much else. Her mood sank farther as she thought of moments in her life when the chance for love had passed her by, and how empty her life seemed sometimes without somebody to share her heart with. But love was simply not meant for somebody like her.
“Hey Ariana…what do you want to be when you grow up?”
She picked at the grass by her side, not daring to meet his eyes because she knew they were on her, and she could feel herself flood with shyness.
They were sitting on a grassy hill overlooking the river below. Surrounding them were the vibrant buds of wildflowers, which Ariana had often picked in her younger years as gifts for her mother. A breeze washed over them, caressing her blonde hair gently with invisible fingers, and she closed her eyes, pretending for a moment that it was him instead. Even though he was sitting next to her, so close that she could feel his body heat, she knew there was no way to make her daydreams real. Terren liked a girl from the village, and Ariana was too afraid to tell him how she felt.
“I don’t know yet,” she said softly, her entire body tense under his gaze. “I haven’t been in school for that long.”
“What kinds of things do they teach you there? Do you get to turn people into frogs and stuff?” He sounded so eager that Ariana felt ashamed to disappoint him.
“W-well…not yet,” she said. “I won’t get to learn things like that until…later.” She chanced a glance at his face and felt at once responsible for the crestfallen expression there. “Uh…b-but we did learn multiplication spells…a-and how to mix a few potions…”
“Can you show me something?” He turned to face her, his face alight. His smile tugged at her heartstrings, and she was at once a bundle of nerves.
“S-sure…!”
“Here.” He plucked a blue flower and slid it slowly behind one of her ears. “That one’s for you, and this one…” A second one found its way into the palm of her hand. “This one’s for your magic.”
Heat rose to her face as her eyes fell to the flower. She could feel her hands trembling against her will, but she made a fist around the bloom in an attempt to hide it from him. Inhaling slowly, she began to chant, and her gentle voice barely carried across the small span of air that hung between them. “Creo planta plura per magus…”
Within seconds there were at least a dozen of the same flower blossoming in her hands, seemingly out of thin air. She could hear Terren draw in a sharp breath, and she felt a stab of fear pierce through her. A subtle glance at him calmed her, for his face wasn’t terrified, but amazed.
“Wow…” he whispered, reaching out to touch the newly formed petals. “That’s incredible…” Before she realized it, his fingers had drifted from the flowers to her own fingers, and once again she felt a twinge of panic. “You’re incredible.”
She swallowed hard, trying to ignore his hand brushing hers. She wondered if he knew he wasn’t fingering the flowers any longer. “W-what?” she managed, scarcely able to breath thanks to her pounding heart. “B-but…I’m not! I’m…! You like Bridgette!”
Her hands moved away from him and caught her weight behind her, and she knew her face was completely pink. Terren smiled, the corners of his beak trembling. Was he… nervous? How could he possibly be nervous? He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her for a moment. She sighed in relief; she had felt naked beneath his penetrating stare.
“Ariana…I don’t like Bridgette. She’s…well…can’t you see that I—“
Terren never got to finish what he’d been about to say, because at that crucial moment a loud, obnoxious shout cut him off.
“There she is! There’s the freak now, out with her boyfriend!”
“I’m not her boyfriend!” Terren yelled back indignantly, already on his feet and bristling.
“You can’t chase us away now, bean boy! We told our parents what she did, and she’s gonna get in trouble!”
“Leave her alone!”
But as the small cluster of bullying children tramped down the hill, it quickly became apparent that they were followed by numerous adults…what looked like every adult in the village. And all of them were either wielding a torch or a pitchfork.
“Freak! Monster! Bloodthirsty murderer!” the adolescents taunted as they neared. The insults echoed in her mind and refused to leave, like a bitter aftertaste, and when Terren realized the entire village had come for Ariana, he hiked up his pants and ran as fast as he could into the distant trees. She felt suddenly exposed, and shivered with fear as they circled her like prey.
“Earth to Ariana,” the boy in front sneered, waving a hand in front of her face. “Come in, Ariana. Stop staring off into space and get some work done!”
Ariana blinked, snapping back to reality, and felt her head spin. Standing in front of her was Gloria, her hand still raised as if to wave it in front of Ariana’s eyes a
second time. “There’s new inventory in the back. Josie and I already made sure everything got delivered so all you have to do is put it away. Oh – and order lunch.
We’re getting hungry.”
What could she do? Josephine and Gloria had been there longer than she had, and wouldn’t telling Mrs. Pennyfeather what was going on be like whining or tattling? Maybe all of them had had to start out this way when they were new…or maybe Ariana just couldn’t win. At least, not here.
Once a week she and Beth met for dinner and a movie. They dubbed it “date night,” playing on the fact that neither one of them ever actually had any real dates. It was an evening Ariana always looked forward to because it was her chance to actually be who she was without fearing rejection. It was a natural consequence to finding a kindred spirit. Though she knew Ariana was Morgana’s sister, Beth never inquired into Ariana’s magical abilities; it was a strange and welcome change for the twenty-year-old.
“If you don’t mind my saying so,” Beth was responding, “you deserve better. Maybe it’s time to start looking for another job…but I don’t want to tell you what to do!”
“No, you’re right; I know you’re right. I just…”
Her spectacled friend smiled sympathetically. “I know. I’m the same way. It took me forever to leave Bindler’s.”
“Do you ever regret it? Quitting, I mean.”
“Sometimes. I mean, I’m tired of being ignored, and I’m tired of feeling like a nobody.” Here Ariana nodded empathetically. “But things are kinda hard since I don’t have any income anymore, and it’s not like I have a lot of experience to be able to get another job right away.” Beth smiled. “It’s kind of ironic, don’t you think?”
“What is?”
“Well, you basically started a new job when I quit mine. Our roles are reversed now.” Beth paused, then looked at Ariana seriously. “Do you think I should ask for my job back?”
Ariana had to smile. Here Beth was advising to leave her job, where people took advantage of her and she didn’t feel fulfilled, while at the same time asking if she should take back a job that held many of the same problems Ariana’s did.
“No,” Ariana said definitively, remembering the way Henny treated Beth. “I think you deserve better, too. But maybe I should just wait it out at the jewelry store…it’s only been a couple of months. It could get better, right?”
Beth shrugged. “It could, but it could also get a whole lot worse.”
Unfortunately for Ariana, the latter became true. She had only just entered the store when Mrs. Pennyfeather came up to her.
“I need to see you in my office, dear,” she said in her kindly voice.
“O-okay….” Ariana replied wonderingly. She’d never been called back to Mrs. Pennyfeather’s office before, and the last time she’d met with a supervisor alone, she’d lost her job. The memory nagged at the back of her mind, but she pushed it away. After all, she had been doing a fine job, hadn’t she? At least she was doing her best…though she’d been doing her best at McDuck Studios, too.
Before she could work herself into a tangle of nerves, she entered Mrs. Pennyfeather’s office and sat down.
“Now Ariana, dear,” the elderly woman began. “I want to tell you upfront that I think you’re a striking young lady with a lot of potential.”
Ariana immediately blushed and looked down at her hands. She had never been able to accept compliments. But Mrs. Pennyfeather wasn’t finished.
“That being said…I’m surprised at the level of your work ethic being reported by your peers.”
Ariana’s head shot up, her face a mixture of shock and disbelief. Maybe she’d heard Mrs. Pennyfeather wrong.
“It seems you haven’t been addressing customer concerns yourself or helping with store clean-up, but have been letting the others pick up the slack. I have to say, Ariana, that this disappoints me.”
Even though she knew that none of that was true, Ariana felt sick with shame. “But…” she stammered, “but I do do my work! I do help customers!” Heat rose in her body, but she kept control of her indignation. Mrs. Pennyfeather wasn’t the one to be angry with…though Ariana felt a sense of personal attack. Didn’t Mrs. Pennyfeather know her well enough by now to know this wasn’t true? Of course not. The old avian was rarely in the store. She only had outside reports to fill her in.
Mrs. Pennyfeather raised a calm but firm hand. “You’ve got to realize this is a team effort. You’re young, maybe you just don’t understand the work environment yet. Everyone is assigned certain responsibilities; it’s how a business is run. If someone doesn’t fulfill the requirements of their position, then they need to be replaced, like a broken part. Does that make sense?”
Mrs. Pennyfeather’s voice had taken on a tone that it hadn’t before, one that easily cut through Ariana’s fragile skin and struck already sensitive areas. It was thinly veiled condescendence. The elderly woman smiled once Ariana nodded. “Well, I’m glad we had this discussion. I have faith in you! Now see if you can help Barry shine up those diamond pieces for this month’s birthstone sale.”
Again Ariana nodded, more meekly this time. “Yes, ma’am.”
It was all too surreal.