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Paper Rings
chapter fifty six
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EVELYN HAS ALWAYS TENDED TO HOVER AROUND THE BULLPEN BEFORE. So it wasn't too much of a surprise when she ended up sitting on Dwight's desk. However, it was a surprise to see that she was talking to Dwight. The day went by like that. Evie hovered around Dwight like a drone, making sure he was okay.
A candy bar dropped on Dwight's desk before she set down a can of coke. Jim looked up, flashing a smile over at the bespectacled woman. "Evelyn," Dwight greeted her, turning slightly in his chair. "Look what I found."
He hit his space bar and music began to flood from his speakers. Almost immediately, Evelyn seemed to recognize the song. "No way," she blurted out. Jim watched in confusion as she moved in to peer over Dwight's shoulder. He looked happy, bopping his head to the song.
"It's Cupid!" she exclaimed. "I used to listen to this song all of the time." She turned toward Jim with an excited smile. A part of her wanted to grab his hands and make him dance with her. The other part wanted to give Dwight the biggest hug for playing it. Softly, she began to sing along.
The music didn't seem to bother anyone in the office. Phyllis tapped her shoes along, Oscar humming to it. Pam began moving her head along with the music. She felt so happy seeing her co-workers accept her music so quickly. It made her heart feel full. Dwight pushed out his seat and stood to his feet, offering his hand to the brunette.
She didn't hesitate to place her hand into his. He spun her with a big smile before bringing her closer. A laugh bubbled out of the girl's throat as they swayed to the music. "This isn't exactly a slow dancing song," she reminded him before putting some space between them. "Watch my feet."
It was like she was right back at her childhood home, in the kitchen again. She'd be standing on her father's toes as he danced her around the room, avoiding hitting her mother while she cooked. It always smelled so good and the music would be playing from their record player in the living room.
"There you go," she encouraged. She looked up at Dwight with sparkling eyes as others around the office watched. The bespectacled man grinned big, giggling softly under his breath. "I like this song," he admitted, earning a laugh from his dance partner.
Jim sat back, his eyes taking in the woman before him. Her long skirt swished around her legs, her shoes moving silently over the carpet. Dark hair fell in tresses down her back, moving with her like water. She resembled a beam of light, illuminating the office with her contagious laughter and earth shattering smile.
For once, it felt like a normal day. Michael hadn't grilled his foot and Dwight hadn't run head first into a giant pole. They were there to work and be present. "You're a good dance partner," Evelyn said. Their hands fell apart and Dwight huffed, clearly out of breath, taking a seat at his desk. Her hands moved to her waist with a sigh.
The door to the break room popped open, Michael's voice tearing the employees away from what they were doing. "Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he asked. "Phyllis... Oscar... Ryan, who is supposed to be dead." Confusion played on the woman's face as she slowly sat down on the corner of Jim's desk. "Can I ask you all a question?"
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EVELYN
Cue the dramatics.
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"Do you know what it's like to be disabled?" Michael asked, his voice cracking. Phyllis slowly raised her hand. "Um... I had scoliosis as a girl," she replied. Michael scoffed. "Never heard of it. No... a real disability. Not a woman's trouble."
"Scoliosis is a real disability," Evelyn argued, "It's a sideways curvature of the spine." His sharp gaze landed on the brunette. He obviously didn't care. He was too much in his own feelings. "When I was a teenager, I was in an iron lung," Creed said. Both Evelyn and Jim turned curiously toward the older man. "Wha– How are yo– No, it– Look, the point is... I am the only one here who has a legitimate disability. Although I'm sure Stanley has had his fair share of obstacles," Michael continued.
"I'm not disabled, and neither are you," Stanley replied in a bored tone. Frustrated, Michael threw his crutch across the room, kicked up his foot, and let it rest on the man's desk. "Okay, what does this look like to you, Stanley?" he asked. Stanley clearly wasn't amused with their boss.
He looked at the appendage wrapped in bubble wrap with a blank expression. "Mail boxes, et cetera," he replied. Michael glared at him in disbelief. "Shut... it," he hissed. "Okay, well... Well, you know what?" The employees watched as he hopped angrily on his uninjured foot toward his office. "Disabilities are not things to be laughed at or laughed about," he continued, picking up his thrown crutch. "You people are jerks. Imagine if you had left Stevie Wonder on the floor of that bathroom instead of me."
"Oh, we wouldn't," Phyllis told him, "We love Stevie Wonder." Evelyn met Jim's eyes. Of all people to say that, they never expected it to be Phyllis. "Cold," Jim whispered, the woman beside him struggling to maintain her blank expression. "I burned my foot!" Michael suddenly shouted, kicking out his injured foot. He paused, heaving heavy breaths.
"Okay," he huffed, agitated, "twenty minutes, conference room. Everybody's in there!" Evelyn pouted. She had just started really enjoying her day. She glanced over at Dwight, noticing the confused look on his face. He was staring at Creed, silently, taking in every bit of the old man's features. "Dad?" he whispered.
Her mouth opened in surprise, her head turning toward the camera. Something isn't right, she thought. Creed only stared back at Dwight while his papers printed.
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"While we are waiting for our special guests to arrive, I wanted you all to take a look at a few of the many, many disabled icons who have contributed so much to our society," Michael said as everyone made their way into the conference room. Evelyn sat down beside Jim, sitting between him and Angela. "Quick question," the man next to her said.
"Uh, why is Tom Hanks on the wall?" he asked. "Twice," Ryan added, eliciting a snort from the brunette. Michael turned slightly toward the wall. "Good question," he replied. "Forrest Gump, mentally challenged. Philadelphia... AIDS."
She shook her head in disbelief at their boss. "I think that's from Big," Kevin stated. Michael turned back toward the picture, squinting at it. "I don't think so, no," he replied. Kelly then spoke up. "Yeah, he's dancing on a piano with Robert Loggia."
"He grew into a man overnight," Michael. "A rare disability. It still works." Michael sucked his teeth, making a face at the camera. He then huffed out a sigh, looking over the group. "A crossword puzzle, Stanley? Seriously, are you learning nothing here?"
"Mhm," Stanley replied, not bothering to look up from his crossword. Michael's face twisted in confusion. "What do you mean, mhm?" Evelyn and Jim shared a look. She sank lower in her chair, leaning toward the man unconsciously. "I mean I'm learning nothing," Stanley answered. Michael's eyes rolled skyward.
He was getting even more annoyed now. He would have snapped had it not been for their special guest. Heads turned toward the sound of Michael's name being called. Out the window, they could see a man in a wheelchair rolling in. "Yes, right here," Michael replied. He crutched out of the way so their guest could enter.
"This, ladies and gentlemen, is our special guest," Michael announced. He smiled over at them, clearly not understanding just what he was doing there. "Sorry I'm late," he sighed. "Somebody parked in the handicapped parking space." A look of guilt passed over Michael's features, but he played it off well.
Evelyn folded her hands in her lap, chancing a glance at the man beside her. Jim was grinning out of discomfort at the whole situation. "Hey, everyone. I'm Billy Merchant. You may have seen me around here before. I'm the properties manager of this office park."
"You are so brave," Michael said. Billy glanced around the room, eyes flickering toward the cameras for a few seconds before reconnecting with his audience. "You are so brave," Michael continued. Billy looked confused, but thanked him nonetheless. "Actually, I've been meaning to come by here for a long time—"
"But, it's hard for you, right?" Michael asked, interrupting him mid sentence, "because you're in a wheelchair." Evelyn visibly cringed, hiding the lower half of her face behind her hand. Even Pam looked completely stunned. Billy snorted, clearly uncomfortable. "No, I just have a lot of properties to manage," he clarified politely.
Michael continued, ignoring him. "Let me ask you something," he began, looking out at all of his employees. "How long does it take for you to do something simple? Every day, like— like brush your teeth in the morning."
"I don't know, like, thirty seconds," he answered. Michael sighed. "Oh, my God. That's three times as long as it takes me." Jim chuckled, sucking back a sharp breath. His shoulders trembled as he struggled to compose himself. That explained why his coffee breath was so bad.
"How did you get in your wheelchair?" Michael asked. Billy glanced toward Michael curiously. "This morning?" he asked. "Just like every other morning. Just climbed on in." There were several scattered bits of laughter in the room. He looked pleased to have withdrawn that kind of reaction. "Hey, hey, hey, hey! Not funny, not funny!" Michael scolded his employees.
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JIM
Michael... is comparing grill marks on the bottom of his foot to full loss of motor activity in someone's legs.
[ JIM STARES AT THE CAMERA, SILENT. AFTER A WHILE, HE SIGHED AND SHOOK HIS HEAD. ]
JIM
Michael.
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"Hey, hey, relax," Billy told Michael. "I'm just, uh, joking around here." He looked painfully confused and painfully out of place. It made Evelyn feel so awful that he's been exposed to Michael Scott and his selfish antics. Michael shifted slightly on his crutches. "Well that's good. He still has a sense of humor."
A few of the employees ducked their heads and hid their faces out of shame and embarrassment. Evelyn wanted so desperately to curl up in a ball and hide. "Listen, I've actually used a chair since I was four years old. I don't really notice it anymore."
"Well, they do. They notice it," Michael pointed out in a harsh tone. "Don't you? You notice it. It's the first thing you saw when he rolled in here, isn't it?"
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EVELYN
I'm going to clamp Michael's lips in his George Foreman grill.
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"So, there are just a couple things I wanted to remind everybody of. First is parking." Michael was now seated right in front of Evelyn, leaning over his crutches as Billy continued to talk. It did seem productive to have a talk on things such as this, so she wasn't entirely against it. However, the implications did make it hard to swallow. She hated admitting that Michael had a good idea, despite it being done for the wrong reasons. "You can't block the freight entrance with your car, even if your blinkers are on. Does anybody have any questions?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Dwight raise his hand. "Yes?" Billy called on him, but Dwight stared back at him silently. Billy waited a beat before calling on him again. Confusion began to sprout on the man's face like wildflowers in the forest. Pam sighed before leaning over toward him. "Dwight, you have your hand up," she whispered.
He glanced toward his hand before slowly putting it down. Evelyn turned to Jim with a worried expression. "Ignore him," Michael huffed. He shifted over, leaning on his right side and toward Kevin. "You know what, you and I. When I clamped my foot into a non-stick—"
"You know what. Michael?" Billy asked, interrupting him. "Let me stop you right there, and leave." He turned to the crowd gathered. "It was nice meeting you all. Have a good rest of your day." Then he rolled out.
"Something's wrong with him," Evelyn whispered toward Jim. He glanced toward her, head turning slightly. He was starting to think the same. "I'll keep an eye on him," he assured her. She nodded, lips pouted slightly. She hoped it wasn't anything dangerous. Poor Dwight.