She wants to keep sleeping, but her body will simply not allow it. She rolls over and peers at the alarm clock. It reads 2:15. The light streaming through the slats of the blinds verify that a good part of her Saturday has already been consumed by her wondrous 14 hour slumber.
Pam sits up and leans her head against the wall. The last two weeks have been hard.
Day One
It's 10:48 A.M. Jim has not arrived yet. Nor has he called in sick. Pam has not heard from him since last Friday when he left a message regarding a doctor's appointment. She has not seen Jim since last Thursday. It was the day he confessed to complaining about her in-office wedding preparations. She wants to be mad at him, but she cannot. He confessed to save her from the embarrassment of falsely accusing Angela. He always looked out for her. Her lips form into a sad smile.
Michael assigns Dwight the task of locating Jim. After an hour of pointless integrations, Dwight leaves the office grinning from ear to ear and muttering something about stake-outs.
At the end of the day there has been no word from Jim. Dwight has not returned. A knot forms in Pam's stomach.
Day Two
Once again, Jim is not at work. Nor is Dwight. The knot in her stomach tightens. It is a familiar knot.
Last Halloween she had the same feeling of despair when Michael called Jim into his office. Her stomach tightened so much she thought she was going to be sick. He had been in there for what seemed like an eternity. She couldn't lose him. When he had emerged she had to touch him; she had to make sure he was still Jim, that he was still real. She reached out and grasped his hand.
"What happened?" "It wasn't me." "Oh, that was like crazy cuz I was like…" "Yeah, I know"
And then he walked away from her. The knowledge he was not fired did nothing to relieve the knot in her stomach. It felt as though she had lost him anyway.
"Hey Jim…wait… stop… um, I'm sorry for pushing you toward Cumberland…seriously, if you left here, I would blow my brains out…" "Come on."
It was only with those words, "Come on," that the knot loosened and slowly dissipated. It was only with those wonderful, magical words that Halloween 2005 was spared from being the worst day of her life.
The presence of the mailman stirs her from her daydream. The knot is still there. She looks at Jim's desk. He is not there. The knot winds even tighter. She flips through the mail. It is composed almost entirely of familiar business envelopes. The only exception is a smaller white envelope that has been sloppily addressed to Michael; it bears no return address. She takes the stack of mail into Michael's office and leaves it on his desk.
Fifteen minutes later Michael emerges from his office. It looks as though he is near tears. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again. He turns back towards his office, but chooses against it and once again faces the employees.
"Okay, I… I have an announcement to make. Gather… Gather around everyone. Um, I just got this…this letter and um…well I'll just read it. 'I am very sorry for the incredibly short notice, but I must announce my immediate resignation from Dunder-Mifflin…Jim Halpert.'"
The entire office is deathly quiet. Everyone is stunned. The knot in Pam's stomach sends radiating waves of despair through her body. She is certain that she is going to be sick, but she can't move. The silence is broken by Creed.
"Which one is Jim?"
Michael promptly starts sobbing and goes back into his office. Creed, completely bewildered, sits in his chair and ponders why half the office is frowning daggers at him. Pam is in shock.
Suddenly a disheveled Dwight comes rampaging through the door. He is wearing the same clothes as the day before. He looks as though he had not slept; it is likely that he has not. He catches his breath and smiles broadly.
"I have an announcement to make. I have just gotten back from my grueling all-night stake-out of Jim's apartment. Though he never showed up, I was able to talk to his roommate… or shall I say former roommate. Jim has left Scranton and taken all of his belongings with him. In short, Jim has quit."
Dwight smiles triumphantly. Now Pam cannot breathe.
Day 9
A week has passed. Pam is a zombie. She doesn't feel alive, but she knows she is not dead. Her mind is utter chaos. She has not processed a complete thought in seven days. She doesn't know if she has slept.
The office has the atmosphere of a funeral. It is somber. It is quiet. No one talks unless it is absolutely necessary. Kelly is silent. Michael is silent. Dwight, who is ecstatic about this turn of events, is silent; he wants to soak it all in.
Ryan now sits at Jim's old desk. He has been assigned the task of managing Jim's old clients. Michael is so dejected from Jim's departure that he completely ignores the opportunity to train Ryan. For this Ryan is grateful.
Everywhere silence. Pam sits at reception, unmoving. She stares at Jim's desk. She can form no thoughts, but she can picture Jim sitting there, though his image is getting fuzzy. A voice jars Pam into consciousness for the first time in a week. It is Ryan.
"What?"
Pam realizes she has been staring at Ryan.
"Oh, nothing."
Day 12
Pam arrives at the office two hours early. She takes her normal seat at reception and begins staring at Jim's desk. And there he is. He glances up at her once in a while, frequently in fact, but the spaces between his glances still feel like a lifetime. She wants to hear his voice, but he does not speak. She tries to imagine his voice. A memory pops into her head.
"It's okay. Um, I know that Jim had like a crush on me when he first started, but that was a long time ago so…" "It wasn't that long ago; it was on the booze cruise." "Jim had a crush on me on the booze cruise… or he told you about it on the booze cruise?" "Uh mm… okay, shuuut-it Michael. I'm done; that's it; I'm out."
Pam has still not heard his voice. She asks him a question.
"Jim, do you have a crush on me?"
Jim does not look up. He shows no signs of hearing her. After a few minutes he glances up gives a little smile and raises his eyebrows ever so slightly. He busies himself with work again. Pam is desperate for his voice. Another memory pops into her head.
"What? Do you want to tell me something? You look like you want to tell me something. You look like you have something really important to say and you just can't for some reason. Come on, you can tell me. Jim, you can tell me anything."
Jim will not speak in her memory. She looks again at his desk. He is still working. She hears a door close; Angela has just walked in. She looks back to his desk, but he is gone.
It is almost five. She has tried to remember Jim, but he has been absent from her memories all day. She settles her brain enough to again. Another Jim-less memory pops into her head.
"Shalax, Pam. Stop Pam-MSing. That's pretty good. Um, actually, I'm sending Ryan on a top secret mission. Tell her what it is." "Updating emergency contacts?" "Well, is that really a priority?" "Is it a priority? Oh, I don't know. Um, what if there's a tornado, Pam? People's legs are crushed under rubble. Please, would you be so kind as to call my wife? No, I can't. Because we don't have any emergency contact information. Because Pam said it wasn't a priority."
Emergency contacts. Pam rips open the filing cabinet. Larissa Halpert: 117 Vonburgen Street. Pam is near tears. She clutches the file to her chest.
"Thank you Michael."
It is 5:55. She rings the doorbell. A slender woman who is perhaps in her early fifties answers the door.
"Hello?"
"Hello Mrs. Halpert, my name is Pam, I work at Jim's office…er, um I mean old office and I was wondering if…"
"Come on in Pam."
Pam enters. She does not know what to do or say. She did not think that far ahead. Larissa seems to know what she is after.
"I imagine you were just as surprised as I was when Jim left town. His roommate came over and showed me the note he left. I worried so much about him that first night; this is so unlike Jim. He called me the next day. He didn't say where he was and he didn't tell me why he left. He just said he was 'embracing reality.' I thought he had gone crazy. I still don't know where he is or how to contact him, but I made him promise to call me every night. Jim was born and raised here; I imagine he just needed a change of scenery. He'll probably come around sooner or later. He has a good head on his should…"
The phone rang. Pam looked at it desperately. Mrs. Halpert spoke.
"Go ahead dear. That'll be him now. I bet you would really like to see if he's okay."
Pam snatches up the phone.
"Jim, it's Pam; I've been so…"
The line clicks dead. Pam is devastated. She has still not heard his voice. She slides down the wall, still clutching the phone. She is crying. She cannot stop. Larissa takes the phone from her hand and hangs it up. She sits on the floor next to Pam and holds her. Everything is clear to Larissa. Everything is becoming clearer to Pam.
The thoughts in Pam's head began to come together.
"He left. He left because of me. He left because he is in love with me. But that doesn't make any sense. He loves me; why would he leave me?"
A small glimmer from her hand distracts her. Her thoughts connect further.
"The ring. Roy. The engagement. I'm getting married in two weeks. 'Embracing reality.' He couldn't love me. I'm not available..."
Pam yanks the ring off her finger.
"The hell I'm not!"
She stands up. She walks towards the door. She knows what she must do. Larissa knows too.
"Good Luck Pam."
It is 11:30. Roy is waiting on the couch. He is no fool; he knows the end is near. Pam wastes no time.
"Roy, I can't…"
Roy waves his arm; he dismisses the comment as something already acknowledged. He leans his head forward and rests it in hands. He stares at the floor. Pam speaks again.
"Roy, I'm sorry…"
"Pam, just… I don't… just…"
Pam leaves her engagement ring on the coffee table and walks out. It is nearly midnight. She can't remember the last time she slept. She does not know where to sleep tonight. Her family would ask too many questions; it is too late. She would find no relief in a hotel room. She gets into her car and begins to drive.
She rings the doorbell. Inside, the lights flick on. The locks are undone. The door opens.
"Hello Mark, I don't know if you remember me from the party, but I know that since Jim is gone that maybe…"
"Hello Pam. Yeah. Upstairs. Last door on the left."
The last two weeks have been hard. Pam slips down the wall and sprawls on the bare mattress once again. She melts into it. She drinks it in. It is the perfect bed. It was perfect sleep. Correction: It was nearly the perfect bed, the perfect sleep.
"Jim, where are you?"