As the moon replaced the sun in the sky, the three of us sat there, looking into the sea from my porch. I sipped lemonade, while the other two merely looked onward, listening to the crash of the waves onto the shore. In order to break our silence, I set me lemonade down on a marble pad on the table.
“How has your trip been?” I asked.
“It has been swell, just swell,” one answered. He then excused himself and went inside to obtain a drink.
“My vacation has been mediocre at best,” Herald responded. He took the other man’s seat, and stared off into the moon.
“Mediocre? Why has the trip been so dull for you?”
“My work is interfering.”
“Forget your work and relax. Grab a drink and cool down, tomorrow will be a better day.”
“I doubt that…I doubt that.”
“It’s just the six of us Herald, me, you, him, and our wives,” I consoled. “There is no reason to think of work.”
The other returned to find his old seat taken, and so he sat in the older of the chairs, which creaked as he sat. He uncapped his beer, took a sip, and put it on a separate marble pad.
“I feel as though they know more then me -- that they are keeping something secret from me. I am alone there, but still being watched. I work, but get no reward other then money. I talk, but get no feedback. I calculate, but get nothing done. My life has been a waste…” Herald continued.
I asked, “Who are ‘they’?”
“‘They’ are the workers, the peons, the average. ‘They’ are the dull, the satisfactory, the normal. ‘They’ watch me, but give no feedback. ‘They’ are keeping something from me, and I want to know what it is.”
“They are keeping nothing from you. No one is watching your every move, Herald. Stop being paranoid and relax, let yourself go.”
“‘They’ are torturing me without knowing what they are doing. I am here -- here -- but my mind is still on work, on those people, on my boss.
“About a week ago, I was sorting paper clips, shuffling paper, and organizing files. Nothing out of the usual, mind you, but still tedious, boring, and dull. Tired and sleepy, I felt as though I had made a mistake, as though, I needed to go back and redo everything -- and so I did. I spent my time meticulously working on reorganizing papers that were correct, and recalculating things that I had already double-checked. Finally, my shift ended, and I stood up to punch out, making sure to not step of a crack in the floor. ‘Don’t step on a crack. Don’t step on a crack,’ I said to myself. Everything seemed so distant, so disconnected. I knew I was still at work, but I sensed that something more was happening. They were watching me to make sure I did not step on a crack. They were making sure I was still here. I could see them -- all of them -- observing me, studying me…experimenting with me. That is what I was: an experiment. Nothing more.
“Walking faster, I made my way out of the fortress of darkness into the sunny streets. Cars drove by without a care. They did not care about me, about my work, about my story. ‘Who is that man?’ It does not matter. ‘Why does he stand there?’ No one cares.
“Am I just an experiment?” he asked.
He brought me out of my deep trace, and I responded, “Of course not. They are not allowed to experiment on people without their consent.”
He let out a sigh of relief, but I could tell he was not content with my answer. He wanted more -- he will always want more. I thought of him as normal, but he thought he was special. Paranoid -- he was simply paranoid. Over stressed, over worked, and under paid.
“The horror. The horror,” I accidentally whispered.
“What was that?”
“Nothing…merely nothing.”
“If you two don’t mind, I’m tired of all this talk about work. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
He left, leaving Herald and me alone with the crash of the waves, the sound of the wind, and the light of the moon. I too, then let out a sigh; not of stress, nor of relief. I guess it was just to let out noise.
“I’m dying,” he said. “I can feel my body deteriorating…life is slipping out of my fingers.” He stood up, and walked toward the shore, slowly motioning for me to follow. I did.
“Life has let me down. I will show ‘them’ that they cannot hinder my life. I will show ‘them’… I will show ‘them'...”
With those words, he stepped forward into the water, and looked at the moon. He slowly sank away…into the ocean, into the darkness.
“The horror. The horror.”
Post has been edited 1 time(s), last time on Oct 9 2007, 1:54 am by A_of-s_t.
