Cassette

Joel pulled the cabinet drawer open and found only a journal and a cassette tape player. He knitted his brow and frowned. Would it be nosy to read the journal of someone you will never meet again?

Joel looked around. It was late. Only Martha was at her desk, working late, stuck in her world of jazz piped into her head through earbuds and an iPod. Joel reached towards the drawer, not sure which he wanted to pick up first, the player or the book.

Joel found himself sitting in the cubicle's chair with the player in one hand and the journal in his other hand. He pressed play as he opened the journal. The machine clicked and the cassette hissed. There were no voices or sounds at first. The first line of the journal read, "There was no sound at first."

"Martha is coming," said a voice from the cassette player. It was an indistinct voice, and could have been male or female. Joel looked at the player, raising his eyebrows slowly.

"Joel, what are you doing?" It was Martha, behind him. she had one of those telephone voices that made men smile. She used to work in the phone center, but after being hit on by half the people she spoke with, she transfered to research.

Joel slowly looked up. "Um," Joel said, "Nothing."

"We already picked this desk clean for supplies," said Martha. She was not too tall, but she had some weight on her. It padded in the curves, though, and she still turned heads. Joel always thought she would be very beautiful if she ever learned to smile.

"Nobody thought to check the drawers?" asked Joel. He thumbed the rewind, then hit play.

"We left those for you," said Martha. "Enjoy." Even sarcasm sounded heavenly when carried on her voice.

There was an awkward moment of silence as Joel waited for the cassette player to say "Martha is coming" but the phrase never came, and Martha headed for the exit. She was done for the evening.

"No one will believe you if you tell them," said the voice on the cassette player.

Joel stared hard at the player. This was a new phrase, one that responded to his thoughts. He thought it was strange that the first phrase never showed up, and he was going to tell Darren the next day. Darren was a huge X-Files fan, and believed that all things unexplained were just being covered up. This would have been right up his alley.

"Why not?" asked Joel. After a minute of silence, he started to feel silly.. He put the player down on the desk top and turned his attention to the journal.

"There was no sound at first," read the journal, "Then it started to speak to me. Everything it said was true, and often helped me to avoid something awkward. It warned me about a wet floor, an elevator that locked up, even heavy traffic."

"Reading that journal is nosy," said the player.

Joel glanced at the player and thought about what he read. "It is getting late," he said, mostly to himself. He pressed stop on the player, closed the book, and brought them back to his desk. When he left the building, they were tucked away in his bookbag.