"Did you hear what I said, Michael?"
"Yeppers."
He wasn't lying when he responded.
Even while distracted watching as his staff began their nightly exodus of the office that had started with Stanley at 5:00 on the dot and little by little followed by the rest, he still half focused on what Jan was yammering on about. He took the after-hours call from her figuring a conversation this late had to be personal in nature.
Boy was he wrong.
Quite the contrary, she was all business, demanding an action plan for David Wallace. Seems the video presentation and sales reports were not enough for the new finance guy who was way nosier in the way he ran things than the previous CFO had ever been.
What he didn't hear was her telling him not to use Yeppers. By then he was busy checking his drawer for the item he planned to fix it all with, including the company's financial troubles.
She went on in detail for another twelve minutes during which more of his people left, the most recent staffer to pass by his door was Toby. Upon catching sight of the devil himself, Michael reacted with guttural noises and exaggerated retching.
"Enough with the sound effects. I expect your outline by Friday. No excuses this time. I don’t care if you have travel plans, just get it done."
Hanging up the phone, he then checked his wallet for the wrinkled paper, the other piece of his own action plan.
While on the call, the office mostly emptied out, exactly what he needed before he could get down his business. Strangely enough, Dwight and Angela, who in the past were often the last ones to go, of late had been among the first, leaving only Pam and Jim, who upon looking up again also seemed to have slipped out while he was smoothing the paper now laid on his desk.
Michael stepped out from behind it, walking to the door to peek around for anyone else from the film crew. Seeing no one he returned to the window to look out for any remaining cars.
It was that time of year when a golden sunlight flooded the parking lot even at the late hour it was.
As if on cue, the happy couple appeared in his line of sight, walking hand in hand to where Pam’s new Ford Focus was parked, the glow from the sky bathing them in it.
But before they arrived at the car, they broke apart, pausing at the crack that splintered and spread out from beneath her parking spot. He could only assume they stopped so Pam could warn Jim to avoid it, just like he himself had advised her a few months back while on the time travel adventure she insisted they never speak of.
Michael watched in disbelief as Jim’s next step landed right on top of it. Shaking his head, he went to throw up the window to yell out to them, forgetting once again they still didn’t open.
And then he saw her bend down in front of him.
“No, no, Mhmm. Oh Wow. Nope, nope, nope.”
Even though he was proud of the new Pam, with her new confidence and the assertiveness to go after what she wanted, he couldn’t believe she was doing this.
It wasn’t that it was too soon. He could tell these two were going to go the distance. In fact, he was so confident this moment was on the horizon, he'd already been working on the toast he would give at their wedding.
But there were some things that were still supposed to be done a certain way, and that meant by the man and not while he was standing on a crack.
Michael’s voice got louder as he shouted at the glass.
“Don’t let her. Jim, you big galoot, get down there. Ask her first!”
And then, as if he heard Michael’s yells from above, he was bending down to meet her. Without Jim’s broad frame blocking the view, he was able to make out just what it was they were doing and it wasn’t what he thought. But in seeing what they were both crouched down to investigate, he was as mesmerized as them by what it was.
Verdant green poked out from the center of the crack at their feet, the stem seeming thicker and heartier than what should be have been possible to grow from the middle of pavement. A cluster of yellow petals formed a blossom that sat atop the abundant stalk.
Michael watched as they rose and stepped away leaving the flower to keep growing from where it hadn’t been expected to sprout, Mother Nature however having her own plan for it.
Up in the sky, she was also performing her magic, swirling the colors and hues together, marmalades and violets uniting to form a cotton candy sunset.
Caught up in the sugar-coated view, Michael stayed at the window, even after Jim opened her door, kissing Pam gently on the crown of her head as she slipped into the driver’s seat. He lingered longer still staring out the glass, borrowing from the setting sun a beam that spread across his cheeks, watching as Jim jumped into the passenger side and together, they drove off in the direction of the fluffy pink clouds.
Only once they were completely gone from his sight did he turn back to his desk and the task at hand.
From out of his drawer, he pulled it out, letting it hang from the once sparkling chain, the gold plating long since flaked away, revealing the tarnished brass underneath. But the center piece still gleamed, the glass catching the reflection of his lamp as he gave it a test spin.
Placing the lottery numbers back in his pocket, he began to chant the inscription from the rings and followed with a series of made-up incantations that he thought might make it work again. But just as every other night he tried, time still continued to move only forward and only one second at a time.
When after an hour he heard the cleaning crew show up, he thought to call it quits for the night. He set the amulet back in the drawer, grabbed his jacket and nodded to the woman wearing the vacuum cleaner entering his office as he passed her on the way out.
Before leaving though the front door, he stopped to admire Pam’s painting again, and heard whispered in head, his own words of advice.
“Never, ever, ever give up.”
Racing back to his office, he chased out the cleaning lady and shut himself inside while they worked in the bullpen and kitchen. Not so patiently, he paced, watching from the blinds to see when they finished and left for the night.
As soon as they were gone, his attempts started again. He spun it forwards and backwards, while walking forward and backward, even hopping on one leg. Standing, sitting, with his eyes open and closed. He tried spinning it while reciting every spell he could remember from the Harry Potter movies.
“Wingardium Leviosa.”
“Riddikulus.”
“Lumos.”
When none of that worked, he tried nonsense words.
“Timetraveleunum.”
“Lotteriwinum.”
“ImpressumoneJanilovelevisnon.”
Still nothing.
For hours he stayed there spinning until the grumbles of his stomach became louder than they had been during his time traveling days.
He sighed before placing the trinket back into his desk. Pulling out a baggie of trail mix from the drawer he mumbled to himself, “there’s always tomorrow to try again,” before he popped a handful into his mouth.
Yawning and focused on picking out the nasty flaxseeds from his snack, he passed the empty lobby… it must be later than he thought with Hank already gone. Stepping out the door into the night, he barely looked up as he beelined to his Sebring parked right outside the entrance.
Elvis’ ‘Can’t Help Falling in Love’ was playing on the radio as he started the car. Turning the volume way up he backed out of his spot and drove from the Dunder Mifflin parking lot, never noticing a Red Corvette sporting a vanity plate reading WLHUNG, idling on the far side.
>>>>>>>>>>><<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
If this were a movie, before the credits begin rolling, while Elvis’ song crescendos, there’d be a few quick scenes:
Up in heaven, Gabby admires her new wings. We get a peek of another angel there too, but never see the face.
On earth, we see Randall typing the name Gabrielle into an Internet search engine.
After Michael discovers his package, again, fed up he drives to corporate to report Packer to HR. While waiting to meet with Kendall he strikes up a conversation with a woman in the lobby waiting to interview. She introduces herself as Holly Flax.
We get one more peek at Pam and Jim kissing in the kitchen as the line, “some things were meant to be”, plays.
Song fades.
Up comes a saxophone and Ingrid’s Time Machine plays again (I just love this song).
