A Journal of a Journey

A Story by Namus

What about you? ..Did you ever meet such a person?

A Journal of a Journey

“Come away,” she whispered.

Here I sit, a wreck of a human being, writing out my last words before I leave this world.

But it was not always so. I was happy, and full of vigor. I looked forward to each new day ---full of new ideas, I walked with a spring in my step, I worked them out; I spoke with an accent of authority---and baffled my competitors. I was the envy of many, desired by many more.. until one day she walked into my life.

It wasn’t late. I was standing by my board, staring hard at it, with a marker in my hand. Well do I recall, it was a blue marker. No, it wasn’t late. It was just 9 pm by the clock, and I stood there anticipating a sleepless night when there was a knock at the door.

And there she stood. Like something, the like.. the likeness of.. I mean, something like what I had never seen before.

I have trained myself never to look surprised. It only gives satisfaction to the unworthy opponent. My training did not fail me. I gave a mock bow and said, “What can I do for you?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she said, unabashed.

And in she walked. She stretched herself on the sofa with the ease and the grace of a dolphin, and looked at the whiteboard. “That’s not going to work,” she said.

“I haven’t written anything on it!” I said, still fighting any outward appearance of being taken aback.

There was an expression on her face which may have been a smile. “You are presuming too much about the chemical properties of the substance,” she said. “You haven’t factored in the quantum effect that’s going to show up at this point.”

“That’s going to be negligible,” said I, doubts creeping in showing no symptoms on my smooth face---“presumably,” I added as an afterthought.

“You presume too much.” She got up and walked to the board.

We talked. And I can talk. I can talk as you’ll have no idea when I am outpaced. But one thing was clear. I was not the authority on the subject any more. But man, did we connect!

Then she put me to sleep. I can never forget how peacefully I slept.

When I woke the next morning, she was gone. I didn’t expect to see her. But I knew she would come, again. And she did. Again, and again.

* * *

At work everything was uproar. The young talent, the fountainhead of the team, had finally outshone every expectation. There were shaking hands, there were patted shoulders, there were rounds of applause---nobody saw my smile fading and my mouth drying as I received all the adoration. For the first time in my life I even needed to usurp the credit that was somebody else’s.

There was one other person who was not exactly happy.

“There, Mr. XXX,” (well, there is no need for you to know my real name,) said the Executive Director, “this is definitely a very big breakthrough.”

“---But?” I said.

“Well, you see, this approach requires us to redesign the very fundamental blocks. Not many organizations are prepared to do that.”

‘The only question is,” I smiled, “who will be the first to do it though.”

Yes, I can sting where it hurts, and these management people are not exactly my favorites. But mostly it was praise and chatter. I saw the Human Resources Head running all over the place. Other people were hardly working. There was a mood of celebration. I think I saw some balloons!“

* * *

You are not concentrating.” She said, “Are you tired?”

“No, I can go on.”

“We can do something else.” She sat down, “We don’t have to always work.”

“I’m fine. I---” I said, inching towards the sofa.

“You can sit here. I don’t mind.”

We did ‘something else’. We played cards. She wasn’t good at it. She has problems holding them. It was pleasant to see her fail at something.

“When it is built, will you travel to Mars?” ---She’s very innocent about certain subjects.

“Me? No. There are other people to do that. I’m merely the designer, an architect.”

“So other people will get to go, not you?”

“That’s right.”

“What will you do?” she said, brushing the hair above my forehead, touching me for the first time.

“Well, the patent’s getting prepared.” I said, not without a smirk, ”When it all works out, I guess I might buy an island by the pacific and settle there.”

“Is that how you think this will work out?” She said dreamily.

“No doubt! Listen, are you still sure you don’t want to put your name on it?”

“Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

* * *

“Well, Mr. XXX,” said the Human Resources Head, swinging from left to right and back on his chair behind his desk,“we may have to reframe the patent application.”

Does she know everything? Things were slightly different at work the next day.

“Ah, what is it now? Do I care to know?”

“You might,” said he pleasantly, “You see, the panels E to Q were reported to have been designed at the Ricci Lab, and.. the Propulsion Department claimed---”, he fumbled with various folds of a large paper he was handling, “the Thrust Engine, here---”, he tapped the paper here and there, ”--- and here, these also..”

“Oh, that. No, they just received the design.” I waved my hand, “The copies were sent to all the relevant departments.”

“They seem to have something different to say!”

“I see.” I was getting angry now, “I am under the impression though that there are video recordings of all the parts when I was presenting them. And there are too many other proofs---”

“You make it sound too judicial, Mr. XXX,” he said with an irritating smile. “We are friendly people here. Surely we can find a way that fits all?”

* * *

“Do you even like me?” I put my tired head on the backrest. I was on the sofa most of the time these days.

“I’m sorry?” she turned back, bewildered. Still holding the marker, the same blue marker.

“Do you.. do you consider me anything?” said I, exasperated, “Anything at all?”

“LLL,” (well, that’s my first name) she said with concern, “what are you talking about? Are you alright?”

“Answer me.”

“Of course I do. That’s why I came to you,” she said. “---Now, the inflection point of these equifolds are..”

The kitchen lay untidy. She had never shown much interest in it. I had spent the evening wondering about whether I should clean it. May be that’s all I’m good for. I wash the dishes while she works out my formulae.

* * *

My sister SSS called me in the morning. She asked me if I was alright. Did she have an inkling? But we went into nothing very extraordinary. That was how the day began.

The work environment turned from ‘friendly’ to hostile in no time. My judicial approach was now the only approach. But apparently there were no recordings---in fact, there were no presentations, but regular weekly reports---and it was outrageous of me to have suggested they exist.

From the fellow Research and Development colleague to the coffee-machine operator, each eyed me with vengeance. It was generally known that I had not behaved properly. And most people had no problem considering me their mortal enemy based on that one line.

One of the office drivers swore loudly as I passed, and the the elevator guy lifted a finger.

Finally, the Human Resource Head called me to his room. He bade me sit, and suggested without much delicacy that I take a leave of absence.

“We must maintain harmony at workplace, Mr. XXX,” he said with an effort to regain his pleasant manners. “Things are getting out of hands---”

“Whose hands? Mine or yours?”

“These are no jokes, man! Particularly the attack on the cab-driver…”, he smiled again, “Too much work, I’d put it as. Gets to your head. You know, the best of us sometimes need help---”

“What, did I strangle him---he just got away alive? Or, did he run before I could, you know, catch” (I whispered) “him?”

“You can defy the whole world Mr. XXX, but a certain Ms. SSS got in touch with us today. She’s your sister, isn’t she? Says she has had contact with you, and you’re not acting right…”

So that was the purpose of the call. To show that we had had contact. I came away bitter with the parting words, “If you have grievances, I suggest you talk to our legal department…”

The night didn’t improve things either. It was a silly idea to play chess with her.

The next day, my entry-card stopped responding. The guy with the logbooks grimaced and said he didn’t know what the problem was and grinned at his fellows.

I’ve seen the lawyers too. Nice people.

* * *

She was all over the kitchen. She glided, she strolled; she wiped, she glossed; she cooked; she looked under the sink, she looked at the dishes; she ate my pasta, and was all praise---she has her own way of showing she cares, although bringing in the uncomfortable feeling that she read my mind.

“Want to play Chinese chequers, LLL?”

“No.”

“Want to build a card house?”

“Not now.”

She finished the last of the dishes, and came smoothly like a docile creature to where I sat on the floor, my head on the sofa---to sit by my side. We hadn’t mentioned work throughout the evening. She kept her head on my shoulder and let out a heavy sigh, much like a dog. Like her heart was breaking. I couldn’t help patting softly her forehead.

“I’m not trying to be morose, okay?” said I. “I’ve to go through these documents by tonight, and tomorrow I’m meeting both those lawyer chaps.”

“And they will get you all the money?”

“I don’t care about the money.” I don’t know what I care about.

“Why fight?”

“I must.”

* * *

“We’re very sorry about the entry-card incidence, Mr. XXX,” said the Communications Director, “It was a technical fault, and we apologize. We hope you’ll think no more about it.”

“Of course. Thoughts don’t come to me often.”

I sat facing the Executive Director, the Human Resource Head, the Communications Director, and I don’t know who else---even the General Director, who sat chewing his drooping jaws. I was invited, and let in through somebody else’s card.

“You have been a very valuable resource, Mr XXX.” said the old man.

I smiled mysteriously. I know exactly how to make these people feel out of their depths.

“Very valuable, in deed. We will always prize your past contributions, and offer due credit.”

“How’re you feeling today?” butted in the HR guy.

“However,” said the Executive Director, waving him down, “in face of the recent incidences, we’ll have to---”

“---let you go.” I finished the sentence in a sing-song voice.

“Man!” said the HR Head loudly, “This is serious! You are attacking people! The lift operator might be pressing assault charges.”

“Oh, him too, did I? Or, did you forget who you named the last time?”

“You raise grave questions about our integrity, Mr. XXX,” said the General Director, drooping his jaw, “Our difference is irreconcilable. It is for the best that we part.”

I looked down, smiled, and looked up again. “Yes, it is for the best,” I paused and watched them benevolently. “You see, I wanted the preliminary setup to sink in before outing with the Version One. But it will be much easier to wrap things up now. I’m sure there are no hard feelings?”

Their faces blackened instantly. None of them was as good an actor, they couldn’t stop the effect of the pang showing. And they came to see my ashen face!

The old man blurted something out about “amicable adjustments” and “friendly partings.”

“Absolutely!” said I. And I got up, and shook hands with them all.

It worked. My bluff was not only plausible, but extremely likely. What are the odds that a goose that laid the golden egg once might not do it again? In fact, when I come to think of it, it was probably not a bluff at all.

But they wouldn’t give up the bit they had already. And neither would I.

Leaving my car aside, I walked along. I sat on the bench by the lake, and looked out. No thoughts of future, no thoughts of the present came by me. In deed, thoughts didn’t come to me at all. I just looked, and looked.

Water. Endless blue water.

* * *

“Come away,” she whispered.

I had never seen her this affectionate before. She hung around my neck and whispered in my ear, “Come away. There is nothing left in here.”

I couldn’t tell her of the chance of aggression and spite wherever we went. I couldn’t bear just then to hear her talk about my presumptions.

“I can’t.” said I. “I’ll have to see it through.”

Why am I fighting? It is not even my invention. But I think I know the answer. It’s not theirs either. It’s mine. A gift. The sweetest gift I have ever received.

* * *

But things rapidly turned ugly from there.

First there was a police case. Then there were two. Men after men came forward as witnesses describing how I had verbally and physically abused people. At least a dozen people complained that I had threatened them with murder. No less than twenty people swore to have seen me roaming around these people’s houses, with a large kitchen knife in my hand. A tobacconist appeared to have seen me trying to break into one of them. There were restraining orders. An arrest order loomed large.

SSS magnified her story about my strange behaviors. There too, she found willing witnesses to testify on her side. If there were papers to sign, she would definitely have done. A double threat of my losing my liberty hung over my head.

I had to move. I had to run.

But instead, I lied down, and slept. This time when I woke, she was there.

* * *

I tried to pack the things I liked to take with me. But I soon discarded the backpack. What did I like to take with me? My notes, my cellphone, the sonnets of Shakespeare?

It all fitted in a small plastic bag. I took my toothbrush, the shaving things, and a pocketbook. And I took the blue marker. It was at least ours.

She stood at the door waiting for me, not hurrying me up, but with an urgency in her eye. I walked to her. She held my hand. And she lead me away. I went where she took me, I didn’t know where.

* * *

And here I sit. Writing down my last words to this world. Her tentacles are all over me, she is pulling me gently, caressingly away---it’s time to go, far from here. Not to Mars, nor to Jupiter, nor to any other planets, not the milky way, nor anything we can see. Someplace far, very very far. Somewhere where there’s no spite, no competition, no pain, no gain.

Goodbye, Earth!

--- --- ---

© 2021 Namus

Author's Note

Here's a story I wrote while I had “locked myself down”, um, completely.. even without internet last May. Written all in one sitting, and by complete ‘pantsing’ (by that the writer dudes mean ‘no-plotting’, I'm told) it’s essentially fubar. I started hating it almost the moment finished. I only made little edits later, repaired some of the gaping flaws, but… as I said, FUBAR!

I hate it eternally. Other than the ‘multiple interpretations’ thingy it has nothing whatsoever of interest. Not going a-pantsing in forseeable future!