The street out front is shaking. My house is shaking. It is still night. A big
truck stops. It lights up the street like day time. The light and noise at my
window wake me. I look out. The truck drops a large box at the front of my
house. I feel it hit. The furniture from my uncle in Cottonbaugh? I don’t think
it would come so soon. Then the truck is silent. I go out in my front yard in
the moonlight and walk up to the box. A door facing me is
slightly open.
I pull the door back and walk in to see the furniture.
No.
Instead I see a cabinet of file drawers. And a row of boxes. I look
through the
first drawer. I find Holiday cards I sent to others that have been
returned to
me. There are letters I had sent to people returned unopened. In the
next
drawer I find plans and descriptions for projects I started but did not
finish.
And listings of things I had to do for others that I thought I did but
were not
quite complete. In another file drawer I see letters from people I knew
in the
past telling how something I said or did hurt them. Or they tell me
about something
I did not say or do that hurt them. There are photos of people who do
not like
me. A lot of them. I look in the next drawer. I see bad reports from
schools I
went to. And bad reports from employers. The reports all say “This has
always
held you back.” And I see lists of important meetings I had missed. In
the last
drawer I find bills I thought I had paid but were not quite paid
enough.
I look in the boxes. They were full of stuff I
didn’t like and threw away. There is old clothing I thought I had given away to
charity stores. There were broken tools I had thrown away. I ask the truck
driver to take the container away. He asks me to pay for the delivery. I tell
him I do not want any of this stuff. Where did it come from? He answers ‘it is yours.’ He will not take
the container away until I take everything out and put it into my house. The
sun is up now. The neighbors complain about the large box on the lawn. They
start to look through the contents. They make fun of me. ‘It is yours.’ Then
they start to unload the container. I ask them to stop. They do not listen to
me. They take the stuff into my house. I say that it is not mine. The police come.
They will do nothing to help me. Keepers come to help unload the container. No
one listens to me. ‘It is yours.’ Everyone helps to take the files and boxes
into my house.
***
It
is quiet. The sun is starting to come in through the windows. I get up
from my
blankets on the floor. I look around the room for the files and boxes
and do
not see them. I open the front door and look out. The storage box is
not there
any longer. I think I am awake now. I see that I am standing up. So I
know I am
not dreaming now. It did not happen. All that stuff did not come back.
It did
not happen. And I have time to get ready for work. I go to Center today.
When
I walk into Wing I see workers are surrounding Jaemes. They are all
smiling and
talking and congratulating him on the completion of his latest project.
One
that he did himself and had worked on a long time now. A project very
important
to The Nation. This is a deep space mission called Hunter.
It will listen
for any messages that other civilizations might have sent out. So far
the rocket
has been successfully sent into space and all the radio systems are
working
perfectly. Signals are coming back on schedule. And the listening
receiver is
on a course to cross through the space of any possible planet that
might be the
origin of radio signals.
I
join the happy group. A few of my co-workers look at me then look away.
Jaemes
sees me and then thanks all the others for their good wishes. He is not
smiling
now as he looks at me. He asks me to come with him into his office.
When we are
inside he closes the door and hands me a piece of paper labeled a Meeting Request Form. “Willson you have
been called to ‘go up the hill’.” I am worried. He pours out two small
glasses
of Acanadian spirits. Then I think about the Helmet padding suggestion.
That
could be why they want to see me. Jaemes adds: “these things happen at
the end
of an important project.” I don’t understand what he means by that. We
both
take a drink. “They always have to happen.” Then he says to me kidding
I think
“Don’t worry about the Hill Willson. Be you own person. I wouldn’t be
the
success I am today if I hadn’t been my own person all the times I was
called to
‘go up the Hill’.” He seems a little sad now. We finish our drinks.
“Well you
better get going. We can talk when you get back.
If you want to.”
I
leave the Wing and walk the corridors towards The Hill. People passing
by look
at me then look away. I still don’t understand. Are they calling me up
to
congratulate me for my idea of padding on the outside of Game helmets?
Why
else? Will they give me an award? I will spend the award money on the
house.
Start on building the work space. My award will add to my latest check
of $2.15
from LoneStar for the Math Guide. I
get to the stairs and people coming down look at me then look away. As
I climb
the stairs just beside me I see Manager of Assessment and Auditing pass
by floating
up to the hill. Lacquered Woman again. She must have a hover disc. But
you
can’t see it because her full skirts cover it. Her face is
expressionless and
she does not look to the left or the right. Always straight ahead
holding the
ends of the scarf she is wearing. She seems to be speaking but I cannot
hear
her. Her Assistants follow running and stumbling up the stairs behind
me. I
have to move aside to let them pass. The man and the woman both hold
the ends
of the scarves they are wearing as they pass up between the other
people on the
stairs. Both wear small radios on their ears. They are laboring to keep
up and
strain to hear what Assessment Woman is saying. They all continue up.
Maybe she
presents the award.
I
leave the stairs and walk to the Management
Citadel. I show the Form
James
gave me to the Security Guard who tells me I have to go to the ‘People
Resource’ section first. First? As I enter the office I see the same
woman who
does not turn her head but turns her eye towards me, breaks a big grin
and
bites the end of her thumb, and tells me it will ‘be just a few
moments.’ I
settle in for another forty minute nap and about twenty minutes later a
Security Guard shakes my shoulder and tells me he is taking me to a
‘secure
conference room.’ I only had to wait half the time. Am I more important
now? We
leave the office and go down another short hallway to a large metal
door. The
Guard enters a code and opens the door. Inside I see a lone chair and a
long
table on the other side. No surprise with that arrangement. The
surprise is
that Pity Woman, Chaplain, Manager Man, Innovator Man, and Lacquered
Woman are
all there seated on the other side of the table. There are smiles as I
sit
down. Smiles! Manager Man’s face is red as he smiles. Pity Woman is
smiling but
the rest of her face still shows pity. Innovator Man smiles and looks
impatient
at the same time. The Chaplain has his usual big smile. I wonder if he
is
asleep yet. Lacquered Woman is not looking at me with hate now. But
really not
looking at me at all. Maybe I am more important now.
They
all look at one another and the Chaplain begins ‘how do you like your
job here
Brother Willson?’ So he is still awake anyway. I wonder why they don’t
have one
of the padded helmets on the table. I tell them I like my job very much
and start
to tell about my project and the progress at the University. Innovator
Man
slaps the table but not very hard. I stop talking. He tries to smile
again. Manager
Man then says ‘we see bright things in the future for you here
Willson.’ The
Chaplain adds ‘trust in what the next day could bring.’ Now they will
tell me
about how much they like the helmet idea? Pity Woman looks at the
others and
then says ‘we need your help.’ A silent pause. Then the Chaplain adds
that Management
is ‘concerned’ about Jaemes. I must look surprised because I am. I feel
sick. Now
Lacquered Woman is looking directly at me as she speaks. The first time
I have
ever heard her. Her voice sounds like metal. “We do not communicate
well with
Jaemes.” How do you get a voice to sound like metal?
That is all she said and I won’t soon forget
the sound of that. ‘And if he were to leave’ Pity Woman adds ‘we would
be
looking for one of our smart young Engineers to replace him.’ Think
Willson!
Manager
Man ‘we suspect Jaemes has a drinking problem. You know it is illegal
to drink spirits
in The Center. Have you ever seen him drink?’ ‘Why no!’ I answer. “No.
Never.
No. Nothing like that. Never.” I move around in my chair. ‘You would
report it
if you saw drinking in the Center?’ “Oh yes. Yes. I Would. Yes.
Dangerous. Equipment.’
Innovator Man then says ‘Willson, a smart young Engineer who wants to
advance
will make his own opportunities.’ ‘Yes sir” I answer, ‘I make things. I
just
made an automatic-adjusting reciprocal
coupling last week.’ They all look at one another. Pity Woman
asks ‘has
Jaemes seemed unhappy because he feels he is not contributing as much
as he
used to. We want to be sure before Engineering gives him another
project.’ I
answer ‘No he is happy.’ Manager Man again ‘We believe he has a
problem.’ And I
say ‘he has a lot of problems and has helped me solve a lot of the
others that
come up when we are planning parts of the projects.’ I think they are
not
smiling as much as they were trying to do at first. Pity Woman asks
sharply ‘we
think you might be the right kind of person. Do you see yourself as
Head of The
Wing?’ ‘Well no’ I answer ‘Why would I see that? Jaemes is Head of The
Wing.’ They
start to look at one another. All of a sudden Innovator Man slaps the
table “we
are done here!” The Chaplain jumps as he wakes up. They all stand and
silently
leave the room.
I
don’t remember much about getting back to The Wing. My legs were weak
when I
stood up. Then I was running down the stairs and stumbling back through
the
corridors. I almost knocked down several people. I went straight to
Jaemes’
office. As I looked in he motioned me to enter. I close the door.
Silently he reached
down and picked up the bottle of spirits. We had another drink
together. As I
left the office I said ‘it is OK with me if I don’t have to go up there
again
for a while.’ He nodded. I did not have to tell him what happened there
as he
handed me the bottle of spirits. Now I see why the small blast furnace
is
always ready. I stood aside as I opened the door and tossed the bottle
in. There
was a slight increase in the glow as I quickly closed the door.
***
A
truck left a large box at the front of my house again this morning.
This time I
was awake and the box was not so large. This really is the box of
furniture
from my Uncle in Cottonbaugh. I open it. Slowly. There is a small table
and
some chairs, a small cabinet, and the frames for a bed. I will have to
get the
rest of the padding and blankets for the bed. With the other pieces of
furniture I was able to buy over in Grid I have enough for the house
now. And
new projects to fix up the surfaces of the furniture. I see this large
box also
brought me a few smaller boxes. These have some of my old school books
and notebooks.
I will have to thank my Uncle. And I see the journals I kept from my
‘adventures’
in the Ready Reserve that year I
took
off just before the end of college. My military time. My time in Alta.
Military
time was not required in College. But it looks good on ‘your permanent
record.’
Shows ‘responsibility’ and ‘leadership.’ Or so we all were told. So I
tried it
and did well enough in most things. It took me practically the entire
time to
learn when to take my hat off or to put it back on. And I’m not sure I
ever got
that right. I learned how to starch my uniform so it kept sharp
creases. It
made it hard to walk. And I could shine boots. Shine metal. All the
military
skills. And listening to ‘leadership’ and ‘instruction.’ I would hear
things
like ‘Can’t get you a helmet Willson, your heads too big.’ and ‘keep
your head
down if you can.’ Well I did get a helmet anyway, which I needed for
that two-week ‘training field trip’ to a combat
zone. Where ‘you will train in the use of the radios Willson.
You won’t
need a gun to do that. Won’t be able to hurt yourself.’ The field trip
became over
a month and a very long month. I will stop and see Lewis later today
and tell
him I have my journals back now.
***
(continued
on Page 2)
Contents