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them.
     
    In the days that followed,
Johanna found herself avoiding both her friends. For the first
time, she felt happy about not having a phone. It meant neither of
them could easily reach her.
    After work on Friday, her
manager brought her back to the warehouse. She had never been there
before and was overwhelmed by its sheer size. “What do I have to
do?” she asked.
    “ Count the books. All of
them.”
    “ Who will be helping
me?”
    “ It’s just you. No one
else is available. We need this as soon as possible so our
accountant can submit it with our year-end assets summary.” He
handed her a clipboard filled with blank forms. “If you need more
forms, there’s a copy machine up there.” He pointed to a door
connected to the main floor by a rickety set of stairs. “I’d better
unlock it for you.”
    He soon returned and
handed Johanna a couple of extra pencils. “Use a new form for each
shelf, and be sure to write the shelf number on top.” He showed her
where to find that information. “Normally, we would ask you to
write down the ISBN for each carton of books.” Johanna felt faint.
“But seeing that you’re doing this alone, we’ll make do with just
the total number of cartons on each shelf. That is, unless the box
is open. Then we’ll need you to count the books inside and give us
an item count.” He pointed to a tall metal ladder on a runner.
Every bank of shelves had one. “You can use that to inspect the
boxes on the top shelves. Make sure they’re not open. If they are,
we’ll need an item count. And that’s it. Have a nice
weekend!”
    Johanna felt overwhelmed
but knew the only way to get past it would be to begin. Start at the top , she
told herself, while I still have
strength .
    She shivered as she
started counting cartons. The wind howled outside, and it didn’t
feel like there was any heat inside the warehouse. Hours passed.
She hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, when she had consumed a peanut
butter and jelly sandwich that she brought from home. It was
closing in on midnight, and she was cold, tired, and hungry. She
looked at the sections she had finished. Maybe, if she were lucky,
she was ten percent done. She’d have to work faster if she wanted
to get done on time. But right now, she needed sleep. She walked to
the door and tried to pull it open. It was locked. She looked
around for a key but couldn’t find one. Not hanging on a nail
nearby; not in the desk in the office; nowhere. She was stuck
there. I can die here and no one will miss me until Monday . She carried her coat and bag up to the tiny office and
closed the door. It wasn’t much warmer, but at least she couldn’t
hear the wind whistling quite as much. She sat at the desk and put
her head down and immediately fell asleep.
    She woke up with a blazing
headache and a crick in her neck the following morning. Then, her
stomach rumbled. She looked through the desk again for something
that had caught her eye the night before. She found it tucked
between a box of staples and a container of paper clips—a granola
bar. She took it and got herself a cup of water from the water
cooler. She nibbled the bar and took sips of water, praying it
would fill her up enough to keep her going until someone let her
out. After her impromptu breakfast, she returned to counting. It
was mindless work and she allowed her thoughts to wander back to
the foundling home. She had been miserable there, but at least it
was hot in the laundry. Too hot, perhaps,
but she would welcome that steam right now. Then she thought about
the cafeteria. The food was like pigswill, but at least it filled
her stomach three times a day and she didn’t have to worry about
where her next meal would be coming from. I should have stayed longer. Saved a little longer. I
wouldn’t be stuck in here right now, if I had.
    That evening, she
guesstimated she was halfway done with the inventory. Though
exhausted, she rummaged through the rest of the warehouse to see if
there