Yes, Boss-Part One-Eli A. Susman

Yes, Boss 

Part One

A Short Story by Eli A. Susman 

Click-clack-click-clack. Freddie’s fingers tap away at his keyboard. He rolls his neck in a circle and uses the sound of the ticking clock and the air conditioner above him to keep track of time. Only fifteen more minutes, he thinks. Fifteen more minutes and I’ll be done. 

When he came into the office hours earlier his hair was slicked back, and his face felt cool and fresh. Now, a layer of sweat rests on his forehead and his hair has dried and poofed up into its usual curls that disappear after a morning shower. 

“Freddie!” his boss shouts from across the office, his small head sticking out of his office. 

Freddie turns, almost spills his now cold coffee, and says, “Yeah?” 

“What are you still doing here?” he spits his words out. 

“It’s only thirty past.” 

“Go the f home.”

“Yes, boss, I will, I will.”

His boss grunts and slumps back into his office. 

Freddie takes another deep breath as he turns to face his many monitors. Only fifteen more minutes, and I’ll be finished with this report, he thinks. Ten minutes later he chugs the rest of his coffee, wincing as he does. Shit, he thinks, why do I keep drinking this garbage? 

Five minutes later, Freddie clicks the save button on the report, and exhales. 

“Heading out now boss!” he shouts, expecting the typical grunt in response. But he hears nothing.  

Hm, Freddie thinks. Maybe he fell asleep. 

After packing up, Freddie feels something strange. The office is always quiet, nobody ever comes in besides him and the boss. And the boss only ever comes in because he practically lives there in an effort to get away from his husband. Still though, he can definitely hear Freddie moving around, and he had to have heard him shouting goodbye. Freddie grabs his backpack and walks over to the boss’ office. 

“Hey everything alri–WHAT THE FUCK!”

The boss is sprawled out on the floor, butt-ass naked, face to the ground. His body doesn’t move an inch even when Freddie screams. He knows he should check for a pulse, or call somebody, but he doesn’t. Freddie doesn’t even know what to think, let alone do. 

After the brief moment of shock passes, a million thoughts go shooting through his head. 

Is he dead? He looks dead. Should I call someone? Do something? What should I do? How did he die? No, he can’t be dead. There is no blood. Did he overdose? Oh shit he overdosed. But he doesn’t do drugs. Not that I know of. I don’t know anything. Holy shit! 

That’s when the boss grunts and rolls over, exposing his front half and causing Freddie to scream all over again and jump back. His eyes are a dark green shade, like something out of a comic book. 

“What the fuck?” 

“Shit.” The boss pulls his pants back up as fast as possible. “Shit, sorry.” 

“What the fuck?” 

“What just happened?” the boss whispers to himself, staring down at his veiny body. 

“What?” Freddie repeats. 

He looks “What are you staring at me for?” 

“What?” Freddie says again, the sweat from his forehead now dripping down to his nose and his throat constricting out of fear. Maybe he shouldn’t feel unsafe, but he does, very much so. Despite his boss being half his size, his pockets sure aren’t, and keeping this job means the world to Freddie. 

“I passed out, what’s the big deal?” The boss stands up using his desk as support. He grunts again. “Didn’t I tell you to get out of here?” 

“Well, yeah, but…” 

“Exactly,” he cuts Freddie off. “So get the hell out of here.” 

Freddie gulps and uses his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’m getting out of here.” 

He turns, and speed walks from the office, questions circling around in his mind all over again as he heads for the front door. 

Am I gonna get fired? Do I tell people about this? Nobody would believe me. And there’s no proof. Are there cameras in the office? There are, but I don’t have access to that. I can’t tell anyone. I’d lose my job. He can’t fire me for that, can he? 

“Freddie!” 

Behind him, his boss buttons the last button of his shirt and stares him down. Freddie doesn’t turn around, he knows his boss is watching him from across the big office. 

“Don’t you dare tell anyone about this, you understand?” 

Freddie nods. 

“And next time I tell you to leave, you leave.” 

He nods again and pushes the front door open leaving his boss and the office behind. Freddie does not know if he will say anything, or if he will keep his mouth shut. Either way, it doesn’t matter. By the time Freddie gets to the office the next day, everything will have changed.