Hex, Page 2

doctors which all the case workers used, andfollowed it down with her finger. Dr. Willmarth was free, she knew, onThursday morning at eleven.

  Luckily, Jose Gironde was free at the same hour. She made a note to callthe doctor and make an appointment, and to clear the appointment withJose Gironde, and made a duplicate note on the report sheet.

  That would take care of that.

  The paper work, after all, wasn't so very hard. All she had to do nowwas to make the actual calls, and then wait for the written result ofthe examination. When that had come through, she would be able torecommend Jose Gironde for permanent relief, as was obviously indicatedin his case.

  The back injury could not be corrected by medical science. And if Gloriawere to correct it--

  "Your job as a case worker is clearly defined," a teacher had said."Meddling in another's province, without the permission of yoursupervisor, is always uncalled-for."

  In other words, Gloria thought, the _status quo_ has to be kept. Andthat, too, made sense when you thought about it.

  She looked up to see Harold Meedy smiling across the room at her. Shesmiled back, very briefly, and went back to her own work.

  "Interpersonal relationships within the office framework," ateacher--Mr. Greystone?--had said, "are fraught with danger, and shouldbe handled with the greatest care."

  If Harold Meedy wanted to get acquainted with her, that was his affair.She didn't feel that she could conscientiously encourage him in theslightest. Not only was he a fellow worker, which made the wholesituation more complicated than it would ordinarily have been, but hewas a small pudgy man with pimples and an earnest expression. He lookedas if he would be a bore, and a difficult person to get rid of.

  He was.

  Gloria just didn't think he was exactly her type.

  And if he went on trying, she thought regretfully, she would be forcedto do something about it. Of course, Meedy would never know thedifference, but even so, Gloria didn't like to do any unnecessary work.Changing someone's mind was a delicate job, and a responsible one, notto be undertaken for a small motive.

  Even if the person never knew his mind had been changed at all--

  * * * * *

  Mrs. Wladek, in her apartment, shrugged on an old coat and compressedher lips with weariness. Appointment time was near, and a person had tobe punctual.

  Even when a person was going to see a young girl who was strange andfrightening, and who might do--

  _Well, don't be a foolish old woman_, Mrs. Wladek told herself. Rudiwould have told her that. But Rudi was out somewhere, with a girl orwith some of his friends, like a good American boy.

  Don't be a foolish old woman, Rudi would have said.

  But Mrs. Wladek was frightened.

  * * * * *

  It was nearly ten o'clock, Gloria noticed. She did not feel in the leasttired; she was still eager and ready for work. She decided she had timefor one more folder before the first of her appointments arrived.

  She reached out for it and saw Mr. Fredericksohn coming in the door. Hesmiled at her, a tall, white-haired man with a square face, who radiatedenormous efficiency and a certain distant friendliness.

  She did not say hello, but merely nodded. Mr. Fredericksohn liked totake the initiative himself, in all relationships.

  "How are we doing today?" he said, peering over her shoulder.

  "Fine," she said happily. "Just fine."

  Mr. Fredericksohn grunted. "I see Mrs. Wladek's on your schedule today."

  "That's right," she said.

  "Just do what you can," he said. "You've seen her before, haven't you?"

  She nodded. "Once. Last week."

  "She's a--problem," he said. Mr. Fredericksohn was always a little charyof saying anything that might be construed as derogatory to a client,even in the privacy of professional conversation.

  "I'm sure we'll be able to work things out," Gloria said.

  "Well," Mr. Fredericksohn said, and paused. Then he nodded. "You do whatyou can," he said. His voice sounded doubtful.

  She beamed up at him. "I certainly will," she said with enthusiasm.

  Mr. Fredericksohn nodded and muttered something, and went on by.

  Gloria smiled. Oh, she was going to show Mr. Fredericksohn, all right!He just wasn't sure she could handle Mrs. Wladek--and the old womancertainly did represent a problem. Her folder was full of notations bycase worker after case worker. But Gloria's smile broadened just atrifle.

  My goodness, everything was going to be all right. She was sure Mr.Fredericksohn would be happy with her work.

  Though the important thing wasn't her own success, but the peoplethemselves. If you could help them to be bright, and happy, andsuccessful, then that was the best job in the world.

  And she could.

  My goodness, yes.

  * * * * *

  Mrs. Wladek looked at the door for a long time without opening it. Shedidn't want to go in--certainly not. But there was her appointment, andmoney was needed; she had no choice. The cossacks of America had forcedher to this pass, and she was an old woman; what could she do? Fightthem?

  One had to give in.

  She reached for the doorknob and turned it and opened the door.

  There were all the desks, and the men and women working. And near thefar corner, on the left, the girl sat studying a sheet of paper. Mrs.Wladek looked at the blond hair and the pretty face and the slightfigure, and shivered.

  But she had no choice; she went across the room and when she had almostreached the desk the girl said: "Good morning, Mrs. Wladek."

  How had she known? Mrs. Wladek had made no sound in walking to the desk.Yet the girl had known someone was there, and who that someone was,before her head had been raised. Truly, the girl was frightening.

  Mrs. Wladek eased herself, feeling her bones creak, into a chair at theside of the desk. She said nothing.

  "How are things going?" the girl said in her pleasant smooth voice.

  "I am fine," Mrs. Wladek said deliberately. She did not inquire aboutthe girl's health. That would show her; that impoliteness would show herwhat an old woman thought of her!

  "That's good," the girl said. "That's very good. And how is Rudi?"

  "Rudi is my son," Mrs. Wladek said.

  "I know that," the girl said, and smiled. "We met last week, don't youremember?"

  "I remember you," Mrs. Wladek said. Then, grudgingly, she added: "Rudiis the same. He is fine."

  "That's fine," the girl said. "And has he found a job yet?"

  Here it was necessary to lie, Mrs. Wladek knew. One could not say thatRudi did not look for work. One had to say: "Work is difficult to find.He tries, but there is no job."

  "And how about yourself?" the girl said.

  "I am an old woman," Mrs. Wladek said. "Who would hire an old woman?"

  The girl nodded. "It's been a long time since your husband died," shesaid.

  "In an accident with an automobile," Mrs. Wladek said. "I remember thattime. It is sad to think of."

  "And Rudi hasn't found any work in all that time," the girl said.

  "He looks hard," Mrs. Wladek said earnestly. This was a game that had tobe played, she knew, a conversation that started and finished each timeshe came for an appointment. "He looks but work is difficult to find,"she said.

  "I understand," the girl said. "But I'm sure you and Rudi will both findwork soon." She paused and her eyes closed.

  Mrs. Wladek felt something happen.

  It was ... she felt ... a stirring, a changing--

  She stood up suddenly and the chair clattered, balanced and rocked backupright. "What are you doing?"

  "Doing?" the girl said.

  "I go to look for work," Mrs. Wladek said. "You make me want to look forwork!"

  "That's fine, Mrs. Wladek," the girl said. "That's just fine."

  "But I want to look for work!" Mrs. Wladek said, horrified. "What do youdo to me?"

/>   The girl only smiled.

  Mrs. Wladek spun and ran for the door, her eyes wide; but she collidedwith a desk and backed off, and then managed to find her way. The doorbanged behind her.

  Gloria sat at her desk smiling, filled with satisfaction. Of course, areaction like Mrs. Wladek's was only to be expected, but when it wasover she would be looking for work.

  Gloria released the little doll she had held throughout the interviewand let it fall back, out of sight, into her desk drawer. The doll wasshaped into a vague female likeness.

  She didn't need it now.

  Her work was done.

  Mrs. Wladek was going to look for work, and that would adjust her to theworld. She would be a functioning