On her last day at work, Rita took home the cactus she’d kept beside her desk for twenty years. Her manager asked her to leave it behind.
She reminded him that she’d bought it herself. He offered to buy her a larger one.
Rita asked why he wanted that particular cactus….
Rita had worked at the same office for twenty years. Her cactus had been there for twenty of them.
She bought it after someone put a cup of coffee on her papers. The little pot marked a useful boundary.
At first, it stood beside the telephone. Later, it moved beside the printer. Eventually it stood on the spare chair next to her desk.
People left notes under it. Please check this. Please ring that person. Please do this before you go home.
Rita moved the notes into a tray and put the cactus back on the chair.
Her manager, Colin, said it was nice to see something growing in the office.
Rita said it mostly needed people to leave it alone.
On her final Friday, she packed her mug and cardigan. Then she lifted the cactus into a box.
Colin hurried out of his office.
You’re not taking that, are you?
I bought it, Rita said.
He knew that. He just thought it belonged there now.
Rita said she belonged at home now, and she wanted it beside her own window.
Colin offered to buy her a bigger plant.
She preferred this one. She had kept it alive for twenty years.
He said they could arrange a replacement for her home before the end of the day.
Rita asked why the office couldn’t have the replacement.
Colin looked towards her desk. The spare chair now stood empty.
He said a bigger plant might not fit.
Fit where?
On the chair.
Rita pointed out that chairs were meant for people.
Colin lowered his voice.
I know. That’s the problem.
He looked towards the meeting room, where the new manager was describing his plans for more regular team updates.
Rita asked what her cactus had to do with meetings.
Without it, they’ll notice we’ve got room for one more.
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