now."
"And doing it better."
"He used to leave early every day. I mean, I do feel bad for the guy. But, you know? This is kind of--kind of pushing it. Don't you think? How long's he gonna be gone?"
The news editor, Craig Menzies, turns out to be Arthur's truest ally during this period. He lobbies on Arthur's behalf, arguing that the paper should leave him alone as long as he needs. But after two months Accounts Payable informs Arthur that he must return in the New Year or lose his job.
Menzies suggests that Arthur soften his reentry by attending the Christmas party--it'll be a relatively painless way to see everyone in one go. The party involves prodigious amounts of booze, posturing, and flirtation, which means the rest of the staff should be too occupied to pay much attention to him.
Menzies greets Arthur and Visantha outside the office and leads them up, where they immediately bump into a group of colleagues.
"Arthur.
Hi."
"You're
back."
"Arthur, man, good to see you."
None of them appear glad; they seem abruptly sobered.
Menzies intervenes. "Where are the free drinks kept?" He shepherds Arthur and Visantha away.
Intermittently, staff members approach Arthur, repeating how good it is to see him. The brave ones raise the topic of his absence, but he interrupts: "I can't discuss that.
Sorry. And things here? Same as ever?"
In the far corner of the newsroom is a Christmas tree, its base surrounded by presents wrapped in brilliant red paper and tied with curled golden ribbons. Children rush over to collect theirs, shaking little boxes that mustn't be opened quite yet--the company has a tradition of giving gifts to employees' kids ahead of Christmas. Menzies and Arthur had forgotten that children would be at the party, but are keenly aware now. Menzies positions himself before Arthur and Visantha, standing erect and speaking loudly to block sight and sound of the young ones in the corner.
Clint Oakley circles Arthur, Visantha, and Menzies from a wide radius, throwing glances and touching his lips to an overfull glass of punch. When Visantha and Menzies step away to get a plate of hors d'oeuvres, Clint swoops. "Good to see you, buddy!" He slaps Arthur's shoulder, sloshing punch on the filthy carpeting. "Are you gracing us with your presence full-time now, or is this just a one-night stand? We miss you, man. You gotta come back. Puzzle-Wuzzle barely works without you. How long you been off now?" He continues to talk in this jackhammer fashion, never allowing Arthur to respond. "Nice of us to let you in here so you can drink our liquor. Eh? Good of us, ain't it. My kids got their free Christmas presents. Some nice shit this year--I made 'em show me. Just to see how cheap the Ott Group is. But it's some not-bad shit. Like, toy guns and Barbies and whatever. I shouldn't have peeked. Not supposed to before Daddy Claus comes down the chimney, right? But I never could hold out. You know, like when it was Christmas morning and, like, your parents were asleep and shit, and you snuck down and pulled open the wrapping paper? You know what I mean, right, my Hindu buddy? You did that when you were a kid, right? I know you did! Only, don't go stealing a Christmas present for the kiddies this year. You don't get one this year, buddy. I'm gonna get me some cake." He struts away.
When Menzies returns with the hors d'oeuvres, Arthur asks him, "Does Clint know?"
"Know
what?"
"What
happened."
"How do you mean? With Pickle? I'm sure he does. Why?"
"Doesn't matter. I just needed to check. Have you seen Visantha?"
On the cab ride home, he and his wife find nothing to talk about.
He digs into his pocket. "Not sure I have change. Do you?"
As arranged, he returns to the paper in the New Year. He drops by Kathleen's office to signal his arrival, but she is on the phone. She covers the receiver and mouths,
"I'll come see you later."
He sits in his cubicle in the far reaches of the newsroom and turns on his