ask for mister black and tell him red sent you - 3. walking around

by nick nelson

part three of twenty-nine

for previous episode, click here

to begin at the beginning, click here

one day bob was not hungry when it came time for his 45 minute lunch break, so he decided to take a walk around the block instead of getting his usual two slices of plain pizza. it would be good exercise. he had noticed his waistline had grown about half an inch recently. bob was a little surprised to see how many people, like himself, seemed to be just wandering aimlessly in the streets. of course he could not really tell, since he could not read their minds, but the impression he got was that they were just wandering around with no particular purpose . it was a nice day, maybe that was the reason. walking around, just walking around. sort of looking at the other people just walking around sort of looking at the other people. he guessed that was what life was all about, especially when you were not working. maybe that was what people did in the old days, before buildings and jobs and civilization and such. bob did nor have a very clear idea of what the “old days” were like, or much curiosity about them. when the 45 minutes were up, bob went back to work. he did not wear a watch, or have to look at his phone to see that his time was up. he had a natural sense of time. he was in the top ten percent of humans in having this quality. 4. bob is dead

ask for mister black and tell him red sent you - 2. bob

by nick nelson

part two of twenty-nine

to begin at the beginning, click here

bob was a human being. he got up in the morning and went to work five days a week. he occasionally got a holiday, such as the fourth of july or thanksgiving or christmas day. his hours were from eight a m to four p m every day, with a 45 minute break for lunch. when bob got up in the morning he usually had a cup of coffee, a glass of orange juice, and a toasted bran muffin for breakfast. then he dressed and went to work. there was no dress code at his job, so he wore the same thing almost every day - black pants, and a blue short sleeved shirt. he never wore a tie, although he did own a red one and a yellow one. occasionally he wore a white shirt instead of a blue one. bob lived and worked in a metropolitan area that did not have much divergence in the weather throughout the year. occasionally bob would have to wear a jacket or a sweater when he went out outdoors. he owned a blue jacket and a red sweater and a green sweater. he took a bus to work. the bus ride took approximately forty-five minutes - the same length of time , as it happened, that he had for lunch. bob worked for a company that produced advertising brochures for small and medium sized businesses. bob worked in the editorial content department (the department changed its name every six months our so). his title was editorial technician (this title also changed every six or eight months). bob’s job was to produce the words that went into the brochures. the brochures were not written from scratch - there were sets of templates that were used, and into which the particular attributes of the customer’s business were inserted. a single template rarely sufficed, so they had to be combined in some way. the hardest part of the job was avoiding mistakes in describing the customer’s businesses. this involved researching the jobs on google or other information sites. the other hard part of the job, for bob, was prioritizing the different assignments he was given. different “producers” - the sales and marketing reps who obtained the jobs from the customers - would give him assignments and each wanted their own given priority, so keeping them all happy was a problem. in addition, bob had to deal with the “product department” - which oversaw the final determination of each brochure’s combined visual and verbal content. the verbal content was considered secondary to the visual, so the “editorial technicians” like bob felt they were treated like inconsequential drones who were always slowing things down. on bob’s forty-five minute lunch break, he almost always had two slices of plain pizza and a diet dr pepper at a hole in the wall place across the street from the office building. to venture any further away involved risking being late getting back. although no one ever made a big deal if he was a few minutes, or even five or ten minutes late... 3. walking around

ask for mister black and tell him red sent you - 1. the escape

by nick nelson

part one of twenty-nine

ben rogers had been held captive in bill wilson’s basement for thirty-three years. but ben never lost hope, and kept waiting for bill to let his guard down and give him a chance to escape. finally, one night, ben got his opportunity. bill came down into the basement to bring bob his evening meal. usually he was careful not to get too close to ben, who was, of course, chained to the wall. but tonight. as he leaned down to put ben’s tray on the floor, a piece of stiff paper - a postcard?- fell out of his shirt pocket and floated through the air toward ben’s feet. after a moment’s hesitation , bill leaned forward to retrieve the postcard… and that was all ben needed. in a flash he wrapped and smashed his chains around bill’s head and neck, knocking him cold. ben quickly got bill’s keys out of his pocket and freed himself. he wondered if he should take the time to strangle bill or otherwise kill him, but decided against it. all he wanted was to get away - as quickly as possible! ben stumbled up the basement steps. although he had always tried to keep in shape by doing sit ups and other exercises in his chains, his legs were still somewhat uncoordinated. he found himself in bill’s kitchen. again, he was tempted to stop and find some food - some food other than the powdered doughnuts and pepsi cola that bill had been feeding hm for thirty-three years. no, he thought, better to just put some distance between himself and the house, before bill could rouse himself. when he got outside the house, it was dark , and kind of chilly - winter must be coming. the cold fresh air almost overpowered him. relax, he told himself, don’t take such deep breaths… he had bill’s keys in his hand. but there was no car parked in bill’s driveway or directly in front of the house! there were several cars parked a little ways up and down the street. might one of them be bill’s? he couldn’t take a chance trying the keys on them. somebody might be watching from any on the windows on the street. it might be just as well. he had not driven in thirty-three years. he thought he still could, but who knew? and maybe some or all the traffic rules had changed. ben started to walk. a wind picked up, and he now was really cold. he realized he was not wearing a jacket, or shoes. could he take a chance on asking somebody for help? anybody he asked might be a pal of bill’s. bill was a police officer, and a stranger might be one of his fellow police officers. better to just keep walking. into the night… maybe he could steal a bicycle, or a motorcycle… if he could get to the highway, he could start to hitchhike. that was it… hitchhike. but did anybody hitchhike any more? after the first shock of being free began to wear off, the first thing ben noticed was how ordinary everything looked. had not everything changed in thirty-three years? hadn’t anything changed? but it all looked the same… the same houses, the same lawns, the same occasional trees bending over the sidewalks … the same lights in the windows from the tv’s. well, maybe the lights were a little bigger and brighter… yes, that was it. the televisions were bigger and brighter. time had gone by. he had not just dreamed the whole thing… 2. bob

in the museum

by nick nelson

the museum opened in the morning at its usual time. the clown, the magician. the philosopher, the soldier, the detective, and the assassin took up their posts in the gallery and waited for visitors, of which there had not been many lately. at around ten o’clock the guide appeared, accompanied by a woman of indeterminate age, and a chlld who looked to be about four years old. these, the guide began without preamble, giving his standard speech, are all specimens of a vanishing civilization. this is a clown - but as there is no longer anything to laugh at or about, his services are no longer required. it might be added that he survived a long time after his obsolescence, more than any of these others. this is a magician - but the age of miracles is past. this is a philosopher - but as everything is now known, his speculations are quite pointless. this is a soldier - there are of course, no longer wars, or anything to fight them over. this is a detective. crime is not only obsolete but unimaginable, so she has no reason for existing. and finally, this is an assassin. anger, resentment, jealousy and competition are no longer, so who would wish to hire her? the woman nodded at the conclusion of the guide’s speech, and the child stared at the six fossils with its thumb in its mouth, and without any appearance of interest. the clown thought he recognized the woman and the child from a painting that had hung in another part of the museum since he could remember, but he did not say anything. the guide departed with the woman and the child. the next day the guide returned with the woman. there is no longer any need for procreation, he told the six fossils, so this woman, formerly the madonna of - of - of some godforsaken place - will now join your ranks. the six fossils, who all shared the trait of good breeding, welcomed the madonna to their ranks. the next day the guide returned with the child. there will no longer be stages of human development, the guide said, so this child will now be one of you. please make him comfortable. the next day the guide returned alone. there is no longer any need for the retention of obsolete knowledge, or for its display, he explained, so now i join you myself. the guide crossed into the display area and took a seat. will we continue to be fed? the clown asked the guide. i do not know, the guide said. i guess we will find out, the philosopher said.

the friends

by nick nelson

derek and louise and adam and constance were best friends. they went everywhere together and had some great times together. they especially enjoyed dressing up in funny costumes and taking each others’ pictures. and going skiing, and going to the beach, and getting blind drunk. everything changed when adam murdered constance and was sentenced to life imprisonment in the state penitentiary. derek and louise often visited adam in prison, and put flowers on constance’s grave. but it just wasn’t the same. one rainy day, after a particularly depressing visit to adam , derek and louise stopped at a mcdonalds after returning to the city. i think it is best if we stop seeing each other and start new lives, louise said to derek. you, of course, can continue to visit adam in prison and constance in her grave if you like, but i have a new job in columbus ohio and i am going there on wednesday. i am almost all packed and ready to go, so i guess this is goodbye. louise got up and left the mcdonalds to go back to her apartment to finish packing for her trip to columbus. derek felt very sad. the good times he had had with louise and adam and constance were the best he ever had. he wondered if he should treasure them forever, or if, like louise, he should start a new life.

west virginia

by nick nelson

john porter and mary williams moved around a lot in their jobs. their child, joey porter, constantly found himself going to new schools, and he was a person nobody seemed to notice or want to talk to. when the family moved to middleville he went to school for almost three weeks before anybody except a teacher or school administrator spoke to him. and then it was only to say things like “excuse me” or “watch where you’re going” or “get out of my way.” even the police persons and security guards who roamed the school corridors took no notice of him. one day, after two months at the school, joey was sitting alone in the cafeteria eating his lunch of a tomato and cheese sandwich and potato chips, when a girl sat down beside him. joey’s first thought was that she was sitting there because there was nowhere else to sit, but looking around he saw there were many other empty spaces, even a couple of completely empty tables. “excuse me,” the girl said. joey turned to look at her. she was an ordinary looking girl, white, with brown eyes and short brown hair. he recognized her as a group of about twelve kids who hung out together, with two girls for every boy. “we were talking about you,” the girl said to joey. “we decided you were the person in the school most likely to kill themselves, the one most likely to be a serial killer, and the one most likely to start a new religion.” “thank you for sharing,” joey answered. it was his standard answer whenever he did not know what to say, which was most of the time. the girl got up. “there was a fourth thing,” she said. “but i can’t remember what it was.” she walked away. he never spoke to her again while he was at the school, but he did find out her name, which was josephine harris. the human brain is a mysterious organism, constantly pulsing with strange rhythms emanating from no one knows where. joey thought he “forgot” about josephime harris, but of course no one ever really “forgets” anything. years later joey got a job as a bus driver. one of his regular routes was between syracuse new york and kansas city missouri. one night he was driving his bus back to syracuse from kansas city and was passing through west virginia. there were only five people on the bus. none of them were traveling togteher. it was about three o’clock in the morning and all five seemed to be asleep. suddenly a woman seated right in the center of the bus woke up. she checked something on her phone and then rushed up to the front. please, let me off here, she asked joey. the bus seemed to be in the middle of nowhere, with no buildings in sight. i am sorry, ma’am, joey replied, but i can only let you off at a designated stop, or within fifty yards of it. please, let me off, she begged him. there is a stop about ten miles away, joey told her. it is not a regular stop and will be closed for the night but i can leave you there if you request it. the woman sighed. all right, she said, if that is the best you can do. she went back and got her suitcase from the overhead rack and sat down in the seat directly behind joey. they reached the dark little stop and joey let the woman off. at no point had she looked joey directly in the face. as she got off the bus, joey suddenly thought she looked familiar. it was josephine harris! or was it? joey could never be sure. he wondered about it sometimes, but after seven or eight years he forgot about her, and six years after that he was sitting in the diner next to the station in indianapolis, drinking a cup of black coffee when he had a seizure and fell across the table in the booth, dead.

orangutan

by nick nelson

sometimes i wish i was an orangutan eating peanut butter cookies on a cloudy day no one would pay me no mind and i could wait for night to fall and for the stars to come out except that they don’t any more, do they? it is always dark at night now nobody dances in the shadows but maybe i just don’t see them concentrating as i am on eating my peanut butter cookie and wondering if it is going to rain i have a lot of thoughts these are just some of them would you like to hear some more of my thoughts? that’s all right you don’t have to pretend