"Pam?"
She snaps her head up and peeks over her desk to see Michael staring down at her. She blinks, takes a deep breath, and plasters a wide – very fake – smile on her face.
"Yes?" she asks in a small voice.
"You going to get that?" he questions discreetly.
It takes her almost a full six seconds to realize that her phone has been ringing for a whole minute. Straightening her back, she pulls her hand almost violently towards her phone as she tries to snatch at her receiver. She fumbles, drops the phone with a loud "clunk", and hears the echo of the dial-tone drifting around her.
"I – uh – sorry, Michael," she says as she hangs up the phone.
Pam can feel his eyes on her. She knows what he is thinking. Looking up, she sees that he is watching her carefully. Finally, after what seems like an eternity, he shrugs and drums his fingers across her desk.
"They’ll call back. No big deal." And with that, he turns around and walks back to his office.
Michael’s been acting weird for himself. He’s been acting. . .well. . .normal. At least towards her. The rest of the office has to deal his irregular and daft personality. However, when he’s around her, he behaves. Which is extraordinary . . .At least to Pam, anyway.
It’s been this way for three months.
He’s been acting like this ever since he got the call one morning from Jan, informing him about Pam’s delicate and serious "situation." Now looking back on it, Pam wishes that she had never reported to Toby about her incident. All three of them know. She just can’t believe that Michael has been able to keep his big trap shut for this long. Remembering Jim’s crush towards her, Michael couldn’t keep the secret for a day. As for he and Jan’s relationship, that got out as soon as he got back from Jamaica. So how is it that he can permanently sew his mouth shut for Pam?
Because this was serious.
She remembers the day she came back to work. She had told everyone that she had come down with the flu. Pam can still hear his voice as he called her into his office. When she closes her eyes, she sees his body language as he stands next to his desk. She can recall her first thought as she gazed at him.
He knows.
Pam closes her eyes and remembers...
***
"Pam? Can I see you in my office, please?"Her legs felt stiff as she crossed the room and shut his door behind him softly. His eyes were huge, and his hair stuck up as he had been running his hands through it over and over again. His thumbs twitched as he held a manilla folder in his hands. It took her less than a second to notice that he was staring at her intently.
He knows.
"Michael...."
"Is this true?" he cut her off. There was a tone in his voice that she had never heard before.
Sadly, she nodded. At her answer, she could see his eyes glaze over and he looked away.
"Wow. . .I had no... I mean.." His words were faint, and before she knew it, she was turning towards to door.
"I have to get back to the phones," she had said abruptly.
"Pam!" he called after her. "Wait!"
She stopped, her hand still on the doorhandle. Slowly, she turned around to face him. His face was bright red and he seemed to be shifting his weight from one leg to the other nervously. It occurred to her that he had probably never, ever had to deal with something like this before.
"Um," he began, "It’s just that – " He closed his mouth. After a minute, he looked back at her again. "Are you okay?"
"I’m fine."
He looked down, fiddling with the folder in his hands again. A small "oh" came from his lips, and he nodded weakly. As she stared at him, she found her own throat tightening. The familiar sting in the corner of her eyes returned as her sinuses started to swell. Anger flew straight to her heart. He was treating like she was fragile. He was acting like she was. . .broken.
"If you need anything, just tell me."
She was already heading out the door.
"Thanks Michael!" she called lightly over her shoulder. "I’ll remember that."
***
She blames herself.
It wasn’t like it had happened in a darkened alley, or as she woke up from a deep sleep. Hell, she had invited the guy inside her home. Stupidity is one of the main emotions she feels when she thinks back on it. Sure, she feels the text-book definitions of grief: shame, guilt, fear, and sadness. But stupidity is a big one. Pam knew something was wrong when she had first spoken with him. Warning bells had gone off inside of her head, however, she had ignored them, and had paid a huge price.
Rape victim.
She’s looked the words up on the internet. Read articles in magazines, and even look them up in the dictionary.
2. Rape: any act of sexual intercourse that is forced upon a person.
1. Victim: a person who suffers from a destructive or injurious action or agency.
It’s still hard to believe that the words apply to her now.
She’s watched "Law and Order" before. Rape victims were always seen as small, weak, and pitiful. That isn’t her. It’s not who she is. She’s still the same Pam she’s always been. She is Pam. Pam, who enjoys sketching. Pam, who is always up for a good humored prank. Pam, who moved out all on her own, who has changed her life. Now’s she’s Fancy New Beesly. She’s the same.
Sure, she hasn’t really felt the desire to paint since her attack. Yeah, it’s been months since she’s pulled a fun prank. Even when Karen asked for her help in pranking Andy by replacing his "Drew" name plate with his old one; only to pretend that the new one had never existed, she had declined, claiming that she didn’t really feel up to it.
Come on, it isn’t a big deal that she hasn’t decorated or painted the walls of her new apartment like she planned. Why does it matter that she feels better about sleeping on the couch, away from her bedroom? She hasn’t been in her bedroom since it happened. Her bed is just uncomfortable, that’s all.
Suddenly, she’s very aware that she’s zoned out again and that she’s look at the back of Jim’s neck. He still doesn’t know. She hopes it stays that way. They haven’t really talked since Roy almost smashed Jim’s face into the ground. He’s still polite to her, which is nice. But she’s not sure he even cares about her anymore. Jim hasn’t acted like he has for about five months now. So, she really doesn’t feel the need to tell him that on a night she was planning on going home to watch a cheesy chick-flick while making spaghetti-o’s , was the same night that she was raped and almost murdered by a complete stranger.
It seems odd, in the ironic, slap-in-the-face kind of way that since her incident, it’s been easier to let him go. Pam isn’t really sure if she deserves Jim now. Not that she deserved him much before. Who would want a woman who has been violated? She’s what her highschool teacher would call "damaged goods." Even if Jim dumped Karen, and came rushing to Pam’s doorstep proclaiming that he loved her, she wouldn’t jump into his arms like she would have only a few months ago.
If they became couple now, Pam’s certain that he would get tired of all her hang-ups now that she’s carrying around "baggage." No man wants a woman with emotional baggage. He’d probably realize soon that she is unstable and weak. He’d get tired of her night terrors and long showers (scrubbing her skin raw has become a tradition every evening). Pam is positive that the sex with Jim would lead to tears and disappointment with flashbacks of her terrible experience. She knows that Jim would leave, and then she’d be a rape victim who was dumped by the only man she ever really loved.
He’s better off with Karen. He’s better off with woman who doesn’t have problems like hers. Ever since that concept entered her mind, it been easier to watch Jim laugh with Karen. And she’s okay with it. It’s better this way.
Just then, she notices Jim glaring at her, his eyebrows raised in question. Quickly, she darts her eyes back down to her keyboard.
It’s all her fault.
***
When the clerk had asked "Paper or plastic?" she had almost picked plastic. As she watched her groceries tumbled down the stairwell of her apartment while she clutched a broken paper bag, she wished she had.
"Perfect," she muttered. Surprisingly, she was able to pick up the contents of her bag quickly. Glancing around the room, her eyes scanned for her can of peanuts.
"I got it!" she heard a voice yell from the bottom of the stairwell.
The loud voice made her jump. She hadn’t noticed another person in the stairwell with her.
When she looks back on it, she remebers that she hadn’t heard the stairwell door open or close.
A fairly young man came bounding up the stairs after her. He looked about her age, maybe a little older. Not too bad looking, with sandy hair and gray eyes. He smiled brightly at her. In his outstretched hand was her can of peanuts.
"Is this yours?" he had asked warmly.
"Oh! Yeah," she blundered. "Thanks."
For some reason, her stomach was twisting in knots, making her want to dash back to her apartment. Grabbing the can, she juggled her groceries in her arms as she tried to open the door. He quickly grabbed the door and swung it open for her. His quick actions made her jerk back.
"Here," he said with a smile as wide as the door he was holding.
"Thank you."
He looked around at her other bags that she had set down. She was already bending down her pick them up.
"Hey, let me help you with that," his voice sent another nervous wave down her body. "You look like you need help."
"No, thanks. I’m fine. You’ve already helped me enough tonight. I don’t want to bother you," the words tumbled out of her mouth, and when she looked up she saw that he looked slightly hurt.
"No, it’s no problem. I live on the next floor up. I was right behind you when I noticed that you seemed to be having trouble with your bags. I wondered if you might drop them. I’ve had those dumb bags break on me all the time."
In the back of her mind, Pam was almost positive that she had never seen him in her building before. But, as she reminded herself, she really hadn’t been living here that long.
"Really, it’s fine. I’m fine. I can handle it. Thank you."
She was already holding her bags ungracefully. He smiled at her again, and held his hands out toward her.
"I insist," he persisted.
"I’m fine."
The words came out a bit harsher than she wanted. The smile was now gone from his face and was replaced with a deep frown. Looking down bashfully, he stuck his hands in his pockets. Slowly, he raised his head and peeked at her.
"I was just trying to be nice," he said in a soft voice.
Guilt soon overrode the sickening nervousness that was storming inside of her belly. Taking in his appearance again, she noted that he really did look like a nice guy. He probably was just some stranger trying to do a good deed. He helped her, and here she was being rude to him.
"Okay," she mumbled as she handed him a bag of food.
They both moved out into the hallway. Walking toward her apartment, she tried to squash the guilt and wariness that ached inside of her. Pam could hear him behind her as she stopped at her apartment door.
"I’ll just set this on your counter and leave," he spoke as she opened her door.
As he had said, he had set her groceries on her counter , but he didn’t leave.
***
"Hey, Pam."
Pam looks up to find Jan standing next to her desk. Pam shakes her head, amazed that she didn’t even hear her come in.
"Hi, Jan," she tries her best to sound bright, but it just comes out tired. "What can I do for you?"
"Actually," Jan begins, "I would like to talk to you."
Pam can’t help but be surprised by this, however, she tries not to make it noticeable.
"Oh, okay."
"Can I speak with you? Maybe in the conference room?"
Pam nods and stands up, following Jan into the conference room. She thinks she hears Dwight stand up, and her suspicions are correct when she hears Jan say sharply; "This doesn’t concern you, Dwight."
Pam shuts the door behind her, and tries to pretend that her co-workers aren’t staring at Jan as she shuts the blinds in the conference room. The room seems colder than Pam remembers, and the chairs don’t feel as cushy. An odd sensation overtakes her, giving her a sense of deja vu like she is in a job interview.
Pam sets at the end of the table with her back facing the door. Jan sits on the far right, she folds her hands in front of her and sets down a file with Pam’s name written across it. Jan smiles timidly and laces her fingers together.
"So," she starts, "how are you, Pam?"
"Good."
Jan raises her eyebrows.
"Good!" she seems happy to hear that.
"Good," Pam repeats. There’s a beat of silence that makes her insides come alive. "Am I in trouble?"
Now it’s Jan who looks surprised.
"What? No! No, no, no. Not at all. I just wanted to see how you were doing. I wanted to know if Michael has been. . .doing anything inappropriate," she chuckles and Pam shrugs her shoulders.
"Everything’s normal. Michael’s been. . Michael," Pam mutters quickly.
That is far from the truth. Michael’s been downright formal towards her. Jan’s head is tilted up, gazing down at her with squinting eyes. Pam has seen that look before. It’s the same look Jan get’s when Michael has done something particularly stupid or offensive. It’s the look Jan gets when she knows something is wrong.
"Pam." Jan says this very quietly, and Pam can feel the long stream of tears beginning to push behind her eyes. "Pam, Toby says you’ve been much more quiet lately."
"I’ve been tired," she shoots back defensively. Jan nods.
"You’ve been having trouble sleeping?" Jan states with steadiness in her tone.
Pam doesn’t have the heart or the energy to tell Jan, that she hasn’t been sleeping at night. Between the fear and the nightmares, it’s hard to get a good night sleep. It’s hard not to remember. It’s just hard.
She doesn’t even think to make a "That’s what she said" joke.
"Yeah, but I’m fine."
The two are very quiet. The air is so thick, Pam is afraid is will crash all around them. After what seems like an hour, Jan scoots forward a bit. This act makes Pam even more uncomfortable.
"Pam," Why the hell does she keep saying my name like that? "I think we both know why I’m here."
Pam is now openly avoiding her gaze.
"Toby says that you’ve been withdrawn. That you’re not participating or interacting with your co-workers much. He says that you sneak in when you first come into the office, and that you slip out when it’s time to leave."
"Toby said that?" she whispers.
"Yes. Both he and Michael are very worried about you. After someone who experiences a traumatic event, such as yourself, they often become very depressed and introverted," Jan is speaking with the tone that her mother has used when Pam calls upset and in tears.
"I’ve always been introverted," Pam points out. Jan smiles.
"More than usual."
This annoys Pam, as Jan acts as though she knows her better than anyone. Jan doesn’t really even know the first thing about her. The only one person really ever understood her, won’t even look at her anymore.
"Pam, you’ve experienced something horrible. Something that I can’t even imagine having to go through." Jan’s words are bringing tears to her eyes. "Tell me, who else knows of your incident?"
Pam looks up at the ceiling, pretending to think long and hard, as if she’s counting the people who know about her rape.
"Well, there’s you, Michael, Toby, my parents, and my sister."
"So, no one else in the office knows?"
"I hope not."
Jan nods again, this time, however, she’s grabbing her briefcase and pulling a long, thin slip of paper out of it. It takes Pam a moment to realize it’s a pamphlet, and for an insane moment, she wonders if Jan is going to offer her another internship in graphic design.
"This is a pamphlet about people who have been victimized. You might want to look at it."
As she talks, Pam realizes that this isn’t a friend coming to a friend in need. Corporate is probably making Jan do this. After all, Dunder-Miflin loves to take care of their damaged employees. Pam tries to contain a bitter laugh, but it get stuck in her throat.
"Here is a number to a good therapist. I highly recommend you visit with them. He could really help you, Pam. They specialize in –"
Jan stops abruptly, and Pam follows her gaze to the door. She now realizes that the door is slightly open, and Michael’s large nose is peeking out through the crack. Pam hadn’t even heard him open it, and apparently, neither had Jan.
"Michael!"
In one swift motion, Jan strides to the door and slams it, not even bother to look and see if his nose got caught in the jamb.
"Ouch!"
In utter horror, Pam realizes that this "confidential" meeting hasn’t been confidential at all, and that the entire office has mostly likely heard Jan’s monologue about victims and therapists.
"I’m sorry about that, Pam," Jan sighs, clearly frustrated.
"I need to go," Pam stands up and leaves. "I’ll think about it, Jan," she says as she avoids her office mates eyes on her. She doesn’t have to look up to know that Jim is staring at her as well.
Later, as everyone is leaving -and after Jan as had a long talk with Michael - Jim stops by her desk for the first time in ages. Pam pretends to be very interested in her Solitaire game which has been going on for about a half-hour now.
"Goodnight, Pam," he says softly.
"‘Night," she replies in an equally soft voice.
When he doesn’t leave, she switches off her computer quickly and grabs her jacket. Only for a moment does she feel Jim’s fingers brush her elbow before she practically sprits for the door.
"I have to go. Bye, Jim."
And then she’s gone. Leaving Jim standing alone in the office.
