“Of course you are,” the interviewer replied after scanning her slowly up and down,
side to side, like an MRI machine. He pushed his glasses further down upon his small yet
freckled hooked nose, as though to get an even better look. “Forgive me,” he replied,
frowning. “I don’t see how I could’ve made such an assumption that you’d be married.”
“Excuse me?” Joy’s hand remained in her lap, but she could feel the blood pulsating
through it as it struggled to morph into a fist. She wanted to knock him out and then maybe
pray him back.
Patience Kash
Two cubicles over, Joy’s cousin Patience Kash sat as still and stiff as a statue. Being
thin as a rail made her appear that way no matter how she sat. She swept aside her long
brown hair she normally kept hidden under a scarf; today the tresses peeked out as though
they wanted to be a part of whatever was going on. She’d also worn a long pink skirt and
matching top with sleeves stopping at the elbow. Her shoes, pocketbook, and even her
cell-phone case were pink. She loved being coordinated and could care less if folks thought
she overdid it at times.
Patience squirmed in her seat, making just enough noise to gain attention. She placed one
hand under the chin of her elongated mocha-colored face while her thick glasses perched
precariously on the tip of her pointy nose. She peered over her glasses at the young black
man going over her paperwork slowly with a pen. He pointed the tip of his pen line by line,
and seemingly word by word, as though he were reading a novel.
Waiting for the man to finish his methodical read, she looked at the paneled frosted-glass
cubicle, toward where Joy had gone. She said nothing but began to remember, as she’d
done almost daily since her lay-off, how things were when she worked.
“I’m almost finished,” the young interviewer finally told Patience. “I’m just trying to find
one more item.”
“No rush,” Patience replied with just a hint of cynicism, and then she smiled. She
understood how looking for things, was a tedious task. After all, there were always two
things she could never find during her time in Robbery and Homicide: her spare glasses
and a typo.
42 | NKLC MAGAZINE