FASTEST COMPENSATION

How quickly we receive and how quickly we lose.

No one said a word. Not a sound. They all knew why they were there. Why bother objecting? Why bother protesting? He fiddled with the fold in his denim jeans at his knee. Just twisted it and twisted it again. He had heard those in higher income brackets were trying to beat this arrangement, but to no avail. Everyone was having to do it. 

"Mr. Daniel Parker," the woman summoned over the intercom. He turned to his name being called and walked toward where she stood. He wasn't nervous. Why be nervous? No one was being spared. No one was escaping. She really didn't even look at him, just as soon as he was within earshot, she pushed open a door and quietly said, "this way." He made his way down the silent, empty hall where she ushered him into a small, dark, nearly empty room. She closed the door behind him. Not a sound was heard. A large monitor in front of him lit up. He read the words, PLEASE STEP FORWARD on the screen. He dutifully obeyed. 

DANIEL WILLIAM PARKER. IS THAT YOU? the screen asked. He quietly nodded. 

PLEASE VERBALLY ANSWER. 

"Y-yes," he said louder, followed by another affirmation, "yes." They heard him that time, he thought. 

Images flashed quickly on the monitor, seemingly in a split-second, some Daniel managed to see, and still others he recognized, such as actual family photos that must have been posted online, certificates such as birth, marriage or death and whatever else they found. He clutched his wrist in his other hand while he looked at everything. He thought he heard yelling in the hallway, but wasn't sure. He watched more images flash on the screen. No, he was certain he heard that. Someone must be fiercely objecting to their outcome. 

Then the monitor went blank. Daniel took a deep breath. The results were about to emerge. He cast his eyes down, anticipating what would occur. What this machine had decided. What all he would lose. 

He heard a beep. He looked up to see DANIEL WILLIAM PARKER, AGE 34, BASED ON YOUR FAMILY HISTORY AND POSSIBLE TURN OF EVENTS HAD SOCIAL DISORDERS NOT BEEN IN PLACE, RESULTING IN THOSE CHEATED OF FINANCIAL GAIN AND THOSE WHO BENEFITTED, YOU WILL LOSE $367,000 OF YOUR INCOME, YOUR EARNINGS AND YOUR POSSESSIONS. 

Daniel stared at the amount on the board. The screen bid him, GOOD DAY, then went blank, waiting for the next person. The door behind him opened and the same woman stood there, holding it open and looking at him. He hardly gave her a glance as he exited, seeing another man ready to go in. He thought he recognized the fellow, but felt certain he didn't. 

"Hey, Daniel."

Daniel looked to the man to see who it was and thought he knew, but the other guy was already heading into the room to receive his own bad news. 

Daniel continued down the hall, thinking of what the outcome meant. He wasn't aware of any fortuitous moments in his life or his grandparents, so how was this amount reached? But he knew it was a waste of time to even ponder. 

$367,000. 

Well, he knew it was coming. They all did. Everyone did. Slowly he made his way down the stairs. He was about to proceed to the second set of stairs and decided he would use the elevator. He pressed a button and waited for the door to open. Finally the door did open and inside stood five very excited African-Americans. They looked at him but hardly removed their smiles. He in turn didn't look at them much before he just stepped inside and pushed the button to close. He turned to stare blankly at the elevator door. 

As noisy as church mice, the people behind him whispered and shushed each other. Daniel maintained his gaze. There was snickers. Absolutely quiet murmuring, followed by more snickering and laughter. Daniel said nothing. 

"I don't care," a woman in the elevator snapped, followed by yet more whispering and laughter. 

Daniel looked down. He all but felt his face burning, but wasn't sure if it was rage or embarrassment. Still more laughter. He didn't think the doors would ever open. As soon as they did, Daniel stepped out as an absolute racial minority, surrounded by African-Americans. He looked for the exit sign and turned to head toward the door. Each person spoke loudly, over each other, so no one was really listening and of course the hysterical amusement. 

And he knew they were just all looking at him as they smiled and laughed. He was now the face of their fortune. He provided their means to celebrate. 

Daniel stepped into the even louder gathering to reach the exit. It was the most noisy, flustered group of people he had ever been around. As he stood, he felt himself truly getting over-heated, as tho he may pass out any moment. He just wanted to get to the exit not far ahead of him. 

He wondered if they'd believe maybe he was awarded a balance of sorts as well, but they could tell he wasn't happy and they knew why. They all knew why. 

Daniel walked out of the building and took a deep breath of air. One young woman was talking to some other individuals and she turned and looked at him, as if she was surprised to see him there. Slowly she turned away and Daniel strived to make his way to the steps. 

He then realized outside was really no better. People were louder, laughing, cheering. If anyone noticed him now, they didn't care. This was fine by him. He just wanted to get to his car, while he still had a car. The whooping and hollering never let up. His head pounded ferociously. He raised his hand to his forehead. He tried to maintain his gait, but he seemed to be slowing a bit. 

"Are you okay?" 

Daniel looked up to the speaker and saw two black men standing in front of him. 

"I'm . . . .," he began. He looked beyond the man toward his automobile. 

"Just right there, . . . " he said, "my car." 

"Do you need any help?" the other man asked. That was when Daniel saw the small girl with them. 

Does he need any help. There was a loaded question. Seemed certain to be the story of his life from there on in. Daniel gave an absolutely startled reaction as he felt hands go around his elbows. Each of the men were assisting him. He motioned to his vehicle and they slowly moved him toward it. Once they arrived, Daniel leaned on the hood. 

"Thank . . . ." he said, almost choking, his throat was so dry. He tried again. He didn't want to look pathetic. 

"Thank you," he croaked. 

"Ya know," one of the men, the older fellow, began, "they really had the departure sequence set up so people wouldn't necessarily be leaving with one another." 

Daniel swallowed and managed to stand to his feet. 

"You mean so those who gained money didn't have to be around those who lost money, as I just did." 

"Well, yea," the man said, "they were wanting it to be as painless as possible in certain situations." 

"Well, . . . "Daniel began quietly, then let his thoughts trail off. He still had a headache, but was managing to stand upright without everything spinning. He turned to look at the men. 

"Thank you for seeing me to my car, . . . " he said, but only saw the two men and the little girl walking away from him. They moved further away, getting lost in the crowd. Only at the last minute did Daniel see the little girl turn and look back at him, then turned away. She gave no smile, she didn't stick out her tongue. She glanced back at what it must mean to be helpless and irrelevant to her. Loud throngs of cheers erupted from the crowd of people. 

Daniel got in the car and looked at all these persons as he cranked the motor. Most of the people were around the entry, but many were standing around on the steps and along the walkway. One woman was walking away from the group, making very loud conversation. Daniel watched as someone must have called out to her, so she responded back, then the distant acquaintances all burst into laughter. And he watched them. 

Daniel comprehended a supposition might be he would plow into this gathering, but he saw no reason to do that. He wanted to leave. He didn't want to get away from this black mob, he just wanted to return to what he had of a home, his wife and children. He put the vehicle into drive, then heard the utterly hellacious screams.

 Daniel looked around for the source and saw people motioning overhead. He in turn looked up from inside his car and saw struggling figures at a window. The persons were scuffling, struggling, slamming against the glass, until finally the glass shattered. There was unbelievable shrieking from the ground below as now two men plunged through the broken window and were propelled to the ground. Daniel heard the strike, but he lost sight of them when they hit because of the crowd, followed by more yells. 

He couldn't tell what race the men were. Surely one was white and angry over his privilege penalties. Maybe the black man was trying to calm him down and assist him. Or restrain him. Daniel didn't know. He couldn't imagine why two black men would be fighting like that. He allowed his isolated thoughts to run with a potential reason. One got more money than the other? If white people were giving up money as he had to do, they were getting money they couldn't spend fast enough if they tried. 

Daniel drove out past the front of building, moving very slowly, but wanting to see if he could potentially get a glimpse or even some idea of what transpired. People were running in front of him to reach their vehicles and also behind him. They were like him, just wanting to get away from these events, but while his reasoning had been materialistic, theirs was tragic. One black man struck the hood of his car. Daniel looked at him, startled. He couldn't understand what the man was saying, but the man then turned and walked away. 

Daniel looked, then slowly ventured forward, looked again, and motioned forward again, then the little girl from earlier stepped in front of his car. She was crying. Daniel wondered if she was alone, if he needed to assist her, then he saw the older man who aided him also step out and take her by her hand. Should he see if they needed to reach their car? Where was the young man? Surely he wasn't one of those who fell. Daniel watched and just accepted he would never learn what happened. Ever so gradually, he inched his way along out of the parking area and away from this establishment. He wanted to never come near here again. As he pulled out, police cars, rescue vehicles, an ambulance, all pulled into the area. 

Daniel drove away. There was nothing he could do there. No way could he assist. Nothing he could contribute, other than the fine he was required to pay, no doubt like a loan for the rest of his life. And it was his life, as compared to whoever fell. They no longer had theirs. 

Daniel wondered if it was the young black man who fell, the one who aided him? Could he have gotten inside and up to that floor, he thinks it was about the sixth floor, could he have gotten there that quickly? 

He wasn't sure if one of the men, or both of them, were black. He didn't think they were white. Handing out money for compensation and now the lives lost. Where would the money go now? That would be for someone else to decide.