749632 - 26. the prince

by red jones

part twenty-six of ?

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only emotional neanderthals read that slop. as soon as the words to shari were out of kari’s mouth, she wanted to take them back. not because she might have hurt shari’s feelings, but because she might have revealed her own thoughts, at all, however ambiguous, to another person. kari wade lived in apartment 4-c, on the fourth floor of a ten story apartment building in a medium sized city of the planet earth of the modern world. shari blaine lived in apartment 4-b, larry payne in 4-a, and harry slade in 4-d. to shari and kari, larry and harry were typical male losers and creeps. shari loved romance novels and dreamed of getting hired to write them herself. kari had not actually read a romance novel for years, nor did she have any inclination to write one. her great secret was that she dreamed them. she dreamed them sleeping and she dreamed them awake. she dreamed them in her lonely room, she dreamed them at her job as as a second class social coordination technician at the r-99 corporation, and she dreamed them on her way back and forth to the offices of the r-99 corporation. the dreamed ones had different names, but were all the same. they were kyle, or jason, or carlos, or rodrigo, or prince khan, or prince mobo. they were always a prince. they would inherit their father’s kingdoms and empires. but first they suffered. their suffering blazed forth smolderingly from their dark eyes. they had suffered in battle, but also at the hands of treacherous women, human and otherwise. and their agony could only be quenched in the arms of a real woman. a woman like - excuse me, young lady, i think you dropped this. what? oh thank you, thank you so much. kari smiled at the woman who had picked up her paper bag with the strawberry croissant in it. another narrow escape. at least i did not walk into a door, she thought. * kari, shari, larry, and harry did not know it, but they were about to be thrown together in a manner unsuspected by, and incomprehensible to, any of them. to be continued

749632 - 25. the walker

by red jones

part twenty-five of ?

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ali 35 bumpo had a lot of time on his hands, and he liked to go for long aimless walks in the city streets at any time of the day or night as he waited for his fate to be decided. ali had an application pending to be employed as a third class cultural transition statistical analyst at the department of metaanalysis. what he did not realize was that his every movement was tracked by the employment department and that the ideal of the employment department and all the other departments in control central was a world in which all citizens stayed in their allotted work spaces and living spaces at all times. so, although he had not yet been notified, his application had effectively zero chance of acceptance. ali took little notice of the people he passed on the streets. but some of them took notice of him, nondescript as he was, because they saw him repeatedly. a few thought he might be following or tracking them . shari blaine was one. she thought ali was a creep, and called him mister anybody in her mind. but she did not take the step of reporting him or complaining about him to any authority. another person who noticed ali was pope joan x. pope joan was a sidewalk inspector who walked the streets all day looking for cracks in the sidewalk - of which there were not that many - and in addition to her official duties as a sidewalk crack detector, she routinely reported creepy individuals like ali to the street polce. the street police already had a fiie on ali. they responded to pope joan ; thank you for your input. we welcome all input from concerned workers and citizens. would you like to make a formal complaint against this individual? if you do, you will probably be required to testify at a hearing at department of social order headquarters. joan replied - no, thank you. ali continued walking the streets. next

749632 - 24. the applicant

by red jones

part twenty-four of ?

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shari woke up. it was the first day of the rest of her life. she was going to begin the twentieth job interview of her life. but this was the big one. the job she had been dreaming of all her life, and studying and preparing for all her life. and she was going to win - she was going to get the job. the job of romance novel writer. but first she had to get up and take a shower and get dressed and make herself look nice and have a cup of decaf and a cup of low fat cherry yogurt and get out on the street to get to the personnel office of the woolly mammoth maxmedia corporation. shari lived in apartment 4-b. larry payne lived in 4-a, kari wade was in 4-c, and harry slade in 4-d. shari tried to avoid all three of them. larry was a cipher, harry was a creep , and kari was a modern woman just like shari, but one day shari was in the elevator with kari and kari noticed that shari was carrying a copy of “every flower is a flame” by her, shari’s, favorite writer, daria desmond, and kari laughed and said, only emotional neanderthals read that slop, so after that shari avoided her just like she avoided larry and harry out on the street, it was cooler than shari had expected, but she did not want to go back and get a heavier sweater and risk being late for the interview that would change her life. the street was not as filled with creepy men as it often was, so that was good. and then she saw him. maybe. shari had ben seeing this one guy on the street over and over for weeks or months. she thought. he was so completely ordinary looking that “he” might actually have been different people. in her months of being out of a job, shari had no schedule for going outside, so it could not be that he just happened to be on the street going somewhere at the same time she was every day. he never spoke to her or tried to make eye contact and was more often than not on the other side of the street. shari thought of him as mister anybody. she wished he would just disappear. next

749632 - 23. the dreamer

by red jones

part twenty-three of ?

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harry woke up, as usual, he had had trouble sleeping. he had bad dreams. he lived in constant fear that his dreams would cause him to wake up screaming and cursing and saying inappropriate things, and that his neighbors would report him for screaming and cursing and saying inappropriate things. so far, no such thing had happened. harry’s apartment was 4-d , larry payne’s apartment was 4-a, shari blaine’s was 4-b, and kari wade’s was 4-c. harry avoided all three as much as possible, which was not difficult, as all four of them were modern world persons. shari and kari were modern women who hated men. larry always had a goofy expression on his face, and did not look like the kid of person harry wanted to associate with, or be associated with. harry did not have anywhere in particular he “had to” go to, as he was out of work and had been for some time. so far, he had resisted applying for permanent drone status. his chances of finding work were not good. he had no particular skills, jobs were disappearing from the face of the earth, and he made a generally poor impression on the h r representatives, human and otherwise, that he had to interview with. harry had no opinions on anything, and no inclination to argue with anybody about anything , but he had a surly look on his face that made a bad impression on observers. the persons and other creatures he encountered in his dreams did not view him favorably either. * harry was walking down a dark road. dreams in which he was walking were generally not that bad. it was the ones where he was being held prisoner or was unable to move … so, he was walking down a dark road, and a long black limousine, with no lights and no visible driver or passengers, suddenly appeared and bore down on him… next

749632 - 22. 8-5-t-p

by red jones

part twenty-two of ?

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although he did not know, and only occasionally wondered, what he was doing, larry’s job was not a difficult one. he sat in front of a screen. the screen could be flat on the table, pulled upright, or set at any angle, according to his whim or preference. pictures, or sometimes groups of words - never more than eleven words at a time - would flash on the screen. the pictures or word groups would come up one to five at a time for between two and eight seconds. larry would then randomly punch in four numbers or letters on the keyboard. at the bottom of the screen. there were twenty six letters, eight numbers (no zero or one) , a question mark (?) and an exclamation point (!), for a total off 36 symbols. he was required to make at least one hundred responses an hour. it was understood that any employee who consistently failed to meet the one hundred an hour minimum would be terminated. over the course of his five to fifteen years on the job, larry had seen many fellow employees come and go. the responses were understood to be random, “triggered” by the pictures or phrases. no one was never asked to “explain” their responses. any responses over one hundred and twenty-five an hour earned him bonus points on his monthly point count. * an iguana, a wombat, and the words “feeble hallelulah sunflower” flashed on the screen. larry punched in - 8 - 5 - t - p. he did not remember, but he had punched in “8 - 5 - t-p” 402 times in his years on the job. in larry’s years on the job, he had punched in approximately one hundred million (100,000,000) responses. there are 1,679,616 possible four key combinations on a 36 symbol keyboard. therefore larry, by the law of averages, should have punched “8 - 5 - t - p” about 59 times. but he had punched it 402 times. what did that signify, and to what or whom? * virginia woolf, isaac newton, a siamese cat, and a chocolate chip ice dream cone flashed on the screen. larry punched in r - 3 - u - k. * the days and months went by. next

749632 - 21. on the job

by red jones

part twenty-one of ?

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larry had a job in a downtown office building. working for the modus operandi 66 corporation, which occupied 85% of the 125th floor of the building, which had 189 floors - the 23rd tallest building in the city. he reported to it four or five days a week, and had done so for somewhere between five and fifteen years. larry was not good at math. he had a desk - actually a chair and a small table with a screen on it - assigned to him. the small table had his number - 7653208764 - on it, and he tapped his id card on the table every morning - and occasional night - that he reported for work. then he got to work. he was allowed to bring one beverage, not more than 12 ounces, and a single donut or pastry not more than 250 calories, to the table. he worked for three and a half hours, got a forty-five minute break, and could bring back with him another beverage of not more than 12 ounces and another donut or pastry of not more than 250 calories, then he worked for another three and a half hours, and was then free to go. there were eighty-seven other tables like larry’s in modus operandi’s space on the floor, of which about sixty were occupied at any time of the day or night. there were no windows. the tables were spaced about eight feet apart in every direction. the occupants were not prohibited from talking to each other while they worked, but few did. larry rarely spoke to his his fellow workers.either at his work table or at the building cafeteria on the 130th floor. after the five to fifteen years he had worked there. larry still did not know what the job was or what he was doing at it. he was just glad to have the job. next

749632 - 20. working man

by red jones

part twenty of ?

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larry woke up at the same time every morning. larry was a good person, according to himself, but in his dreams, which he never remembered, he was often a bad person. it always took him a few minutes, when he woke up, to remember what he was and who he was. he was a human being. he lived on planet earth. with many other people who also lived on planet earth. what else? he had to get up and get dressed and “face the day”. and - maybe - probably - go to work. he, larry, belonged to the 41.2 percent of persons on the planet who had to go to work. down from 53.7 percent a mere ten years before. it was not fair but there it was. he had to do it four or five days out of seven. he remembered he had eaten macaroni and cheese the day before which meant it had been wednesday. so today was thursday and he had to get up and go to work. not that he would have stayed in bed if it had not been a day he had to go to work. he would have gotten up and gotten dressed and sat and looked out the window and daydreamed about - what he daydreamed about. we will save that for later (maybe, if we get permission). larry lived on the fourth floor of a ten floor apartment building in a medium sized city on the planet earth in the modern world. there were three other apartments on the fourth floor of the apartment building. larry’s apartment was 4-a, shari blaine’s was 4-b, kari wade’s was 4-c, and harry slade’s was 4-d. larry avoided all three as much as possible, which was not difficult, as all four of them were modern world persons. shari and kari were modern women who hated men. harry had a mean look about him that made larry a little nervous when he occasionally encountered him in the corridor or in the elevator. larry put on his thursday clothing. a red t-shirt with the words “you are awesome” on it, which he had won at a raffle at his workplace. a pair of black jeans with the words ‘hand-sewn” stitched on the back left pocket. and a pair of gray mocassins with “hand-stitched” stitched on their inner soles. he took a bottle of mineral water out of the tiny freezer beside his bed. and he was ready to roll. another day, another dollar. he liked the phrase, although he was not sure what it meant, or what a dollar was. next

749632 - 19. eva

by red jones

part nineteen of ?

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after leaving poor larry locked in the black car, the woman in the black suit with gray stripes pushed open the door of al’s place. willie was sitting alone at one of the four small tables, looking down at his cup of cold black coffee. there were no signs of any other persons. hello, willie. hello yourself. i bet you thought i would never get here. willie did not answer. where is al? the woman in the black suit with gray stripes asked. in the back. poor al - he has a tough life. not as tough as mine. if you say so. who was the woman in the black suit with gray stripes? her name was eva plantagenet. she was one of the first 10,000 experimental amalgamations, of three persons chosen at random from the available fragments of the time - matter continuum. the three persons were: dorothy walker, a debutante from the upper east side in 1924. dorothy’s sister, cecilia. and jasper jones, a ruffian eva’s number was 07rf-j8j7. she was a special agent, number 0023-h. al came out of the back room, wiping his hands on a faded blue towel with red polka dots. what did you do with larry? al asked eva. i left him in the car. what did you think i did with him? next

749632 - 18. jasper

by red jones

part eighteen of ?

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dang, thought jasper, this is one long and lonely highway. even longer than the one between thomasville and paris. and lonelier than the one between harristown and south eden. jasper had walked a lot of long and lonely highways, it was what he did. it was the loneliness that got to him. jasper liked to talk. and he had a lot of things to talk about. but no one who wanted to talk to him about them. it had not always been this way. when jasper was a little boy he talked all the time. nobody paid any attention to him. but nobody laughed at him or told him to be quiet. and in those days he did not have so much to talk about. just the things he saw and experienced himself. grandpa read the newspaper from front to back every morning. when grandpa finished with the newspaper he tossed it aside. jasper, who had learned to read in school, and was the third best reader in the school, would retrieve the paper and read it from front to back. he liked the comic strips, especially mutt and jeff and the katzenjammer kids, but he liked the front page news about wars and peace treaties even more. the sports pages and the society pages, not so much. jasper wanted to talk about the things he read in the paper, especially the wars and peace treaties and the generals in their uniforms and medals and the diplomats in their black top hats, but did not find much of an audience for his observations, especially from mother and grandpa and kid sister sally. mrs lincoln, the teacher in the little red schoolhouse, told jasper he was a bright boy - meaning the term as a sincere compliment, not as an expression of derision, like the men in the barber shop and the pool hall. she would have been saddened, but not terribly shocked, to see jasper walking down the long and lonely highway talking to himself. the moon came up over the highway. next

749632 - 17. dorothy

by red jones

part seventeen of ?

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what are we going to do about dorothy? i did not know we had to do anything about dorothy. is she ill? if she is, send for doctor parker. we parted ways with doctor parker last christmas. doctor wetherby is our doctor now. of course. as i am in perfect health, i tend to forget these things. dorothy is not ill, but she is still dorothy. being dorothy is not such a bad berth. she gets to live in this fine home on — on something or other avenue - twentieth avenue. thank you, you know how bad i am with numbers. you were saying? i was saying dorothy gets to live in this fine home surrounded by servants who attend to her every need, most of which are quite imaginary. the servants must be paid, especially after the latest ridiculous decrees of the so-called progressive government. people do call it the progressive government, and i believe that is what it calls itself. everything needs a name, or else where would we be? the servants cost money, and dorothy costs money. do we not have money? not so much as we would like. nobody has so much as they would like, not even old jones. yes, cecilia, what is it? i could not help overhearing your conversation about dorothy. of course you could not, as you are a frightful little sneak who listens at doorways and peeks through keyholes. be that as it may, i have a suggestion about what you can do about dorothy. i do not think you are competent to make such suggestions. no, go ahead, cecilia, let us hear what you have to say. delilah and i were walking down twenty-third street yesterday - what were you doing on twenty-third street? and have i not made it clear that i do not approve of your association with delilah? we were on our way to fanshawe’s bookstore, and we were accopanied by delilah’s chauffeur - who i am sure is a complete ruffian. actually goggins is a young woman. who attended bryn mawr. did she graduate? may i politely interrupt? what has all this to do with dorothy? delilah and i were approached by a man - she and the man appeared to be acquaintances.. i do not want to hear another word. and i do not want you assoociating with delilah. what say you, pater? next