"Patent Pending" part 3

Over the next few weeks, John took his friend’s advice and decided to take a vacation. It had been a long time since he had done so, and he figured that he could get some ideas down on paper this way. Watching movies and reading books, he jotted down his ideas in point form in his notebook when inspiration struck. A new kind of wine opener, a great idea for a murder-mystery, even a few scratches and scribbles for a dance song he couldn’t get out of his head. Feeling refreshed and once again like he was in control of his own destiny, he returned to work on a sunny Monday.

No sooner than having walked through the sliding glass doors, however, he heard a strangely familiar melody floating on the air. The driving bass drum of the song seemed to be in harmony with the accelerating beating of his heart. His eyes widened as the sliding doors hummed closed behind him. A man in a white shirt and red plaid tie walked by and smiled at John.

“Great song, huh?” the man quipped. John smiled weakly as he eyed the round muzak panels on the pockmarked white ceiling tiles from where the song was coming.

John tried to ignore the melody and fumed off towards the elevator. He pressed the UP button and waited in front of the bronze doors for the red number above the elevator to tick down to one.

“Hi John!”

John looked to his left to see Cathy, a fellow patent clerk. Cathy had been a friend of his for several years, since he started working for the patent office.

“Hello, Cathy,” he replied.

“Did you have a nice vacation? Go anywhere fantastic?”

“No, just spent some time at home. Working on a few projects… you know.”

“Oh really? If I had had that much holiday time saved up, I would have gone on a cruise in the Bahamas, or something like that. Life’s short, you know. You don’t want to go wasting it on work.”

John laughed and did his best to shrug it off.

“Well, you know me. Always hard at work!” The elevator doors opened and the two of them stepped inside.

“Say, are you doing anything this Sunday? Mark and I are having a dinner party. We’d love to see you there.”

“Uh… yeah, I suppose… that would be nice,” John replied.

“Great! Dinner’s at seven, so come on by at about 6.”

“Uh, great, no problem. Thanks, Cathy!” The elevator doors opened and John waited for Cathy to exit before following her to the junction where their paths would diverge. The thought of spending an evening among regular people softened the blow he had felt only a moment earlier. “Oh, should I bring anything?”

“Hm… no, I don’t think so. We have it covered. Oh, wait. If you’d like, you could bring a bottle of wine! Mark found this cool new gadget that he’s been dying to try out. It’s a wine opener that sucks the cork out.” Cathy was already halfway down her side of the aisle towards her cubicle.

“Wait, what did you say?” John said in an edgy tone.

“Wine! Red or white is fine….”

“No, after that.”

“Um, Mark found a new toy? Not THAT kind of toy, if that's what you were think...”

“A wine opener?” John interrupted. Cathy nodded. “That uses a pump to get the cork out?” Cathy cocked her head and smiled.

“Yeah,” she said with amusement. “John, you work in a patent office. You look as though you’ve never heard of a new invention before.” She giggled and continued towards her cubicle.

John was left standing there, leather bag in hand, looking as though he had already worked a ten-hour workday. Utter defeat and shock was haphazardly painted across his face.


For the rest of the day, John couldn’t focus. The piles of paper on his desk that demanded attention were like moths fluttering around an intense burning light that was glowing inside his head. He tried to bat them away, but they kept circling. His leg wouldn’t stop bouncing as he chewed on the end of his Uniball™ gel ink pen. He jumped when a familiar voice interrupted his defence mechanisms.

“J, buddy! How was the vacation? Meet any hot muchachas?”

“Oh, hey Dave. I didn’t see you there. No, no ladies. Just stayed at home.”

“Well, you sure are jumpy for a man who just got back from vacation!” Dave chimed. “It must have been quite a downer. I know how vacations can be so depressing…” he scooped on the sarcasm.

John stood up. “Yeah, well, I guess I must have caught something yesterday. I’m not feeling too well,” and he walked past Dave towards the men’s room.

The door closed behind him and he went to the sink. Turning on the cold water, he filled his cupped hands and splashed water on his face. Looking in the mirror, he asked aloud “What the hell is going on?” The cold water felt good, but unreal at the same time. Think. There’s no way, he thought. I didn’t tell anybody! Not even Dave. The only way they could have known is the notebook. Wait, the notebook. Where is it?
John rushed out of the restroom and back to his cubicle, bumping into a woman on the way, spilling papers on the floor. Back to his desk. He found his leather bag and tore through it, searching for the notebook.

“What are you looking for, buddy?” came Dave’s voice. There was a quizzical smile on his face.

“Where is it, Dave?” he shot back, eyes glaring.

“Where is what?”

John nearly blurted out the answer, before quelling the impulse. The fewer people who knew about it, the better. John ignored the question and went back to searching, pulling papers out of his bag and then moving his search to his the drawers of his desk.

“Look, John, whatever it is, is it really that important? Whatever it is, I’m sure that it’ll turn up. Maybe you just forgot it at home.”

Home. If his notebook was at home, he needed to get it.

John looked up at Dave. “I need to take the rest of the day off.”

Before Dave had a chance to answer, John had already scooped up his leather courier bag and was storming out of the office on his way home.