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His nose twitched as he stared across the room at the little furry creature scurrying round and round in his spinning wheel and going absolutely nowhere. He concluded it had to be a total waste of time, all that running and never getting anywhere but right back where the hamster started.
The little brown hamster stared straight ahead as he ran near top speed. Round he went without any thought to the futility of the trip he was taking. Every once in a while, he would steal a glance at the rabbit watching him from a few feet away. Those big dark eyes just gazed at him with the rabbit's nose constantly twitching. The hamster started to count how many times the nose would twitch, but he soon realized it was a lost cause to try and keep up with it. How could someone stand for their nose to move like that? It seemed to him it was a terrible waste of energy and time.
It bothered the hamster more than it should, and finally, he jumped out of the wheel and put his face against the bars of his cage. “Will you stop doing that?” he asked in desperation.
The rabbit blinked and replied with a question, “Quit what?”
“That confounded twitching!” the hamster squealed with annoyance.
“Uh, what twitching?” the rabbit asked as he moved his large ears forward to better hear.
“Your nose! Your twitching nose!!” the hamster yelled even though it only sounded like a high pitched squeal to the rabbit.
“Oh, that,” the rabbit shrugged. “I don't ever notice it.”
“Well, I do,” the hamster declared. “You do it all the time and it's starting to drive me crazy!”
“Really?!?”
“Yes, really!” he replied with his irritation growing. “Sometimes hours go by and that's all you do. It would be different if you moved or scratched yourself, or something, instead of just lying there twitching your nose!”
“I don't think I can stop,” the rabbit offered. “It's what I do.”
“Well, try doing something else,” the hamster ordered.
“Why don't you try doing something else?” the rabbit asked as he felt his anger rising at the hamster's snooty attitude.
“What do you mean?” the hamster inquired.
“Running round and round in that contraption and never going anywhere,” the rabbit replied. “I get so tired of watching your little legs pounding like they're really getting somewhere.”
“Uh, I enjoy it,” the hamster said in defense.
“Yeah, well I find it annoying,” the rabbit declared. “And besides, that thing squeaks and sometimes it hurts my ears!”
“Well, then don't look over here at me,” the hamster suggested with a huff.
“It's a total waste of time,” the rabbit smirked.
“Waste of time?!?” the hamster shrilled in anger. “That's coming from someone whose whole purpose in life is to twitch their nose? And you call my running a waste of time?!?”
“It is,” the rabbit answered. “And I would greatly appreciate it if you didn't do it anymore.”
“What?!?” the hamster snarled. “If I could get through these bars, I'd come over there and claw that nose off your face!!”
“I wish you'd try!” the rabbit growled back at him. “I'd kick you so hard your head would spin as fast as that wheel of yours!!”
“Yeah?” the hamster smirked. “Bring it on!”
The rabbit's ears slightly drooped and he said, “Yeah, I would if I could get through these bars! You come on over here and I'll show you!”
“I would gladly do it, but I can't get through these bars either,” the hamster declared with a slight hint of resignation.
The rabbit stared and his nose twitched. The hamster briefly bared his teeth before turning and climbing back inside the wheel. He started running again as he fought the impulse to glance toward the rabbit. Even without allowing himself to look, he was certain that nose was still twitching. It always did.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The young woman looked up the path and then downward before taking a quick survey of everything around her. She had to make sure no one was able to hear what she was about to say.
“Fatin, you're scaring me,” the young maiden Sabreen declared.
“I don't mean to,” Fatin said. “I just want to be careful.”
“If you have to be that careful, then it's better to be quiet,” Sabreen offered. “The elders cannot punish you for thoughts they cannot hear.”
“But, my thoughts are like the volcano,” Fatin protested. “Surely my head will explode all at once if I try to keep my ideas secret.”
Sabreen laughed and pulled on Fatin's arm. “You won't explode, but if the elders hear you, then an exploding head will be the least of your problems.”
“Ah, what you say is true, Sabreen,” Fatin conceded. “You are a good friend. If it wasn't for you, why I would've been banished by now.”
“Or stoned for blasphemy,” Sabreen added. “I love you, but I fear for you.”
The two girls hugged and then continued searching the underbrush for turnips to take back to their families for the daily meal. Fatin found a small patch and they quickly dug the dirt away with their fingers as they hurried before any wild boars could detect the scent of freshly unearthed turnips and came running. They both knew the lethal power of the boars and wanted nothing to do with them.
They dug out all they could and quickly ran for their homes. As their huts came into view, they felt safe and slowed to a leisurely walk.
“Can't you feel it?” Fatin asked as she clutched the turnips to her bosom.
“I feel nothing but concern for you and your crazy ideas,” Sabreen replied. “You speak of the impossible and I refuse to listen anymore.”
“I cannot help but listen to what's in my heart,” Fatin protested. “I know there has to be a better place than here.”
“I'm not listening...” Sabreen interjected.
“I can see it as clearly as I see you,” Fatin continued. “A place with happy people, a place with good food, meat to eat, all types of vegetables and not just turnips.”
“It doesn't exist,” Sabreen declared.
“It does, too,” Fatin asserted. “It has to be a beautiful place. A place where people can come and go as they please. A place where you can speak your mind when things are not right and not be afraid of somebody beating you.”
Sabreen stopped in her tracks and turned to her friend and yelled, “Stop it, Fatin!! There is no such place! You waste your time imagining things that are not possible. Your time and energy should be used in helping finding food instead of foolish ideas! That's the only way we stay alive and not by dreaming dreams.”
Fatin stared at her friend before shaking her head. “This is not living, Sabreen. We're only surviving and barely that.”
“It's all we have,” her friend offered.
“I want more,” Fatin stated. “I want out of here.”
“So, what are you two girls talking about so seriously?” bellowed a voice behind them. The girls turned to find the Constable staring down at them. He towered over them with a menacing look as he held his cat o' nine tails whip in his right hand.
“We were just talking,” Sabreen meekly answered while bowing her head.
“About nonsense, I'm sure,” he barked at her.
Fatin simply looked at the man with as much contempt as she could muster. He represented all that was wrong with her village and he held no respect with her. The burly man turned his attention to her and swatted his leg with his whip as he contemplated what to do.
“What's your name, girl?” he demanded.
“Fatin,” she simply replied.
“And yours?”
“Sabreen, of the family Rashea, sir,” Sabreen answered.
“I see,” he pondered. “You go to your home and take her turnips with you. They are yours now.”
“But, they're mine,” Fatin objected. “It's all we have to eat.”
“Give them to her!!” he roared as he again swatted his leg.
With some hesitation Fatin handed over the vegetables to Sabreen. The Constable nodded his head and ordered, “Now, you run along and take those to your family.”
“Yes, sir,” Sabreen humbly said. She gave a quick glance at Fatin before hurrying down the road.
Fatin watched her friend leave and then pouted, “We won't have anything to eat tonight.”
“Yes,” the man huffed as he placed the whip under his armpit. “Our actions have consequences, and young lady, that is a lesson you must learn.”
“I've done nothing wrong,” she protested.
“I overheard your nonsense,” he revealed. “Why would you dare speak of such things? They only poison your heart and those foolish enough to listen to you.”
“I speak truth, and you know it!” Fatin almost shouted.
The Constable raised his whip to strike her, but she refused to cower and stood glowering at him. Her unexpected determination caught him by surprise, and he couldn't bring himself to beat her. He held the whip in the air and growled, “There is no truth except what the elders tell us!”
“How can you say that?” she barked back at him. “I would think someone in your position could easily see how wrong things are.”
He slowly lowered his whip and let it rest against the side of his leg. “Their wisdom has guided us for hundreds of cycles. Am I to believe they are wrong because some peasant girl not even twenty cycles old says so?”
“If the message bares truth, does it matter the messenger?” she asked as she continued to stand her ground.
A grin spread across the man's face, and he observed, “You may be young, but you've definitely learned the way of smooth words.” He bent over to look Fatin directly in the face. “This is the life we've been given. You may not like it, but it's all we have. There have been others, ones who lived before you and were smarter and stronger than you, who tried to change this life. They failed in their conquest, and you will, too, if you continue down the road of foolishness.”
Fatin looked down at her bare feet to avoid his gaze and collect her thoughts. Finally, she looked off in the distance toward the Great Sea and said, “I know in my heart there is something beyond the waters even though all my life I've been told there is not. Maybe those places are like ours, with a few enjoying a wealth of life and others struggling to survive. I don't know, but I have to believe there is at least one place where all people have an equal chance at living. If it was within my power, I would leave to search for such a place.”
“Big dreams for such a small girl,” the Constable chuckled.
She looked up at him and offered, “Wouldn't you want to go with me?”
The question surprised him. “I can't say I would,” he answered. “I have my life here.”
“But your life is not much better than mine,” she declared. “Neither one of us have the riches afforded the elders. They don't worry about going to bed without eating for the day. They take from the land what they want and leave the leftovers for the rest of us.”
The man's face hardened as he warned, “Be careful, young-ling. Your words are carrying you to speak treason. I've shown you mercy when I should've put whelps on your back. Don't make me regret it and force me to strike you!”
“I don't mean to be disloyal,” she quickly asserted. “I only want to live and not struggle to do so when I see others being able to live far better than me. Especially is this true when the only difference between them and me is where we were born. If I had been born in a family of elders, I do believe I could easily see the plight of the people around me. I would want to help them. Would you not, sir?”
The man looked quickly at the ground to avoid the girl's penetrating stare. He shuffled his feet and then replied, “It's not for me to say. The elders are the wise ones, and we live by their decree.”
She slowly nodded her head as she realized he was afraid to acknowledge the truthfulness of her words. He glanced at her and then ordered, “Now, you go on home before you force me to report you to the elders. They will not be merciful with you as I have.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Hurry on as it's getting near dinner time,” he continued.
She turned to leave but then stopped. Without looking back she declared, “I have no food to take to them, sir.”
He thought for a moment and then reached into his pocket. “Here take this and go to the market. It's not too late to get food there today.”
She turned back to him and saw him holding out a skiis coin toward her. It almost mesmerized her as she had only seen them and had never actually held one. Fighting the urge to grab the coin and run with it, she objected, “I can't take that, sir.”
“Yes, you can.”
“No, I can't,” she persisted. “People in the market will think I've stolen it, and they will beat me and my family.”
“Yes, I see what you mean,” he agreed.
He opened his official report book and wrote a note on one of the pages. After finishing he handed it to her.
“Sir, I cannot read,” she simply stated.
“I know,” he said. “You don't need to read it. Just keep it with you. If anyone questions where you got the skiis then show them this paper. It will tell them I gave you the money and for them to see me if they have any questions.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between the coin and the paper. She grabbed both and took off running but stopped a few feet away. Turning back she ran to the Constable and hugged him. He blushed and gruffly ordered, “Enough of this. Go on before the market sells out of food.”
He watched the girl vanish in the distance as he thought about the things she had said. His attention was drawn to the Great Sea in the distance. Even though it was some distance away he could still make out the bright yellow color of the water. He wondered to himself what was on the other side. If only the girl's words were true. But he knew he would never know as his life was confined to what had always been. With a chortle he slapped the whip against his leg to bring his thoughts back to reality. It was dinnertime. It was time to join his family.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The mass rush of people spilled from the streets into the high-rise buildings. From there some scattered into the elevators while others marched to the stairs. It was Monday morning and businesses were filling with workers as the work week began.
For Tyler Bronson it was another Monday he silently checked off as he counted down toward his retirement. He still had a little over twenty years to go before he would be able to draw Social Security, but that didn't stop him from counting as if it were only months away. If nothing else, it diverted his attention away from the mundane chore that was called work. He earned a living but nothing more with his wife's job picking up the slack in pay. His lack of the needed skills to advance in the company kept his ambitions in check. He had been employed long enough to see people come and move ahead of him on the ladder of success. Some of them used to work for him and he had trained most of the others. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and the aftertaste made him plod along in silent frustration.
As it so happened, this morning he was running late for work. He wasn't late by the time clock, but he always liked to arrive about fifteen minutes early to get a cup of coffee and settle down to a quick read of his messages. Everyone around him hurried to the only available elevator and pushed in. There was no more room for him, so he stepped back to wait on the next one. It wasn't long before the doors to the next one opened and Tyler stepped in followed by a man in a suit. He looked up at him and recognized him as Ruben Scott, an Operations Manager who worked the night shift.
Ruben pushed the button for the eighth floor and Tyler said, “Fifth, please.”
They waited but finally the doors shut without anyone joining them.
“I guess it's just us,” Tyler said in a feeble attempt to break the silence. Ruben didn't respond or even acknowledge Tyler's presence. Tyler wasn't surprised at his attitude and rolled his eyes as he contemplated some choice profane words he could direct at his fellow passenger. He knew he would never utter them, but it made him feel better to think about them. His fellow passenger was known throughout the center as a cold hearted take-no-prisoners manager. He had the highest attrition rate in the company for managers who reported to him. Even the regular agents who worked under him had been known to bid for a less desirable shift just to get out from under his leadership.
Tyler’s attention was jolted back to reality when the elevator came to a sudden stop. It lurched once and then refused to move. They were between floors and the doors didn't open.
“Christ!” Ruben muttered as he pushed the buttons on the control panel in a vain effort to get things moving again. Nothing he did helped.
“I think there's an emergency phone behind that little door there,” Tyler offered. “We can call for help.”
Without saying anything, Ruben flung the door open and grabbed the phone. He pressed the call button and waited.
Tyler looked around the cab as if he was trying to find something of interest or something to help. Ruben slammed the phone door shut and said, “The phone's not working!”
Grabbing his cell phone out of his coat pocket he muttered, “No bars! What a day!!”
“Well, I guess we'll just have to wait,” Tyler surmised.
“No joke, Sherlock,” Ruben smirked which brought Tyler's blood to a boil.
“Look, I was just trying to lighten up a bad situation,” he almost yelled. “You can ease up on the sarcasm!”
Ruben looked at him for the first time. “Yeah” was all he said. Both men looked away from each other until Ruben punched his fist against one of the walls and shouted, “This is great! This is just freakin’ great!!”
Tyler stared at him and didn’t respond. He did wonder if this was Ruben’s way of reacting to everything that worked against him. If so, it wasn’t any wonder why he was so disliked.
After an awkward minute, Tyler offered, “I’m the one getting screwed here. At least, you’re salary and don’t have to clock in. I’m gonna be late and they’ll take it from my pay.”
“Yeah?” Ruben smirked. “I wish that was all I had to worry about.”
“Well, if you were in my shoes that’s what you’d worry about,” Tyler said in his defense.
“Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind right now, so can we skip the small talk?” Ruben almost yelled. “I’ve got to get out of here!”
Tyler didn’t respond. He took a long look at the man trapped in the elevator with him. Here was a guy who made decisions all day long that affected the company and people’s lives, and yet, being stuck in an elevator was freaking him out. How was he able to handle the pressures of such a job and unable to stand a mild inconvenience that would cost him a few minutes? The only thing Tyler could figure was it had to be a matter of control, or a lack of it.
Ruben tried his cell phone again with no success. “I’ve got to get outa here!” he cried.
“I thought we were going to keep small talk to a minimum,” Tyler declared with a grin.
For the first time Ruben took a long look at the man stuck with him. After a moment he smiled and offered, “Hey, man, I’m pretty uptight today. I don’t mean to drag you into my problems.”
“Yeah, we’ve all got them,” Tyler agreed and then halfheartedly declared, “I guess us folks at the bottom of the old corporate totem pole don’t realize what you guys at the top have to go through.”
“Thanks, but it’s more than that,” Ruben revealed. “If I can’t make the 8:30 meeting then I’m toast around here.”
“Surely they can’t hold getting stuck in an elevator against you,” Tyler stated. “That wouldn’t be fair.”
“Fair is the last thing on the old man’s mind,” Ruben sneered. “All he’s interested in is results.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, that’s all that matters with him,” he continued. “You remember Clayton over in Marketing?”
“Oh, yeah, he just disappeared,” Tyler mused.
Ruben laughed and stated, “He got canned that’s why he disappeared. All he wanted was two days off because his sister was in town and he hadn’t seen her in over a year. The old man wouldn’t hear of it. He said the project Clayton was working was way too important for him to take the time off.”
“Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” Tyler observed. “Tell a guy it’s too important to have a couple days off and then make sure he’s permanently off. What happened to the project with him gone?”
“Oh, it got shoved onto me and my teams,” Ruben declared. “We had to finish it and our regular work.”
“I bet with no overtime,” Tyler offered.
“Of course not,” Ruben agreed. “No time extensions, nothing. So, we get Clayton’s project done in time but now we’re behind on the work we normally do.”
“So, the old man’s upset with you?”
“Yeah, he wouldn’t listen to reason,” he continued. “He said it was my failure to realize his vision. So, he gave me the riot act and said that was my first and final warning.”
Tyler weighed Ruben’s dilemma and realized his inability to move up in the company may have kept him employed longer than if he had. Still, he resented being held down, kept in his place as it was, when if all else failed, he could have upper managerial experience added to his resume. That could’ve helped him in finding a better place to work with more pay.
After some more silent reflection, Tyler observed, “Well, that’s gotta be tough, but most of you guys just pass the pain on down the line to us. We have to perform for far less money and benefits while you folks take the credit for our success.”
Ruben slapped his palm against the elevator door and then closed his eyes to calm himself. Slowly opening them he simply said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Such a response caught Tyler off guard, and he actually felt a pinch of pity for the man standing before him. He shrugged and declared, “I guess we’re in the same boat. You just have a better cabin.”
Ruben actually laughed and said, “Yep, stuck on a boat with the only way off being thrown overboard.”
The elevator filled with a whirring sound and then abruptly started moving again. “Thank God” Ruben muttered.
When they reached the fifth floor the elevator stopped, and the door opened. Tyler quickly stepped out and without looking back said, “Good luck.” Ruben didn’t respond.
A little over an hour later Tyler was busy at his desk in his cubicle when he felt a cramp developing in his left calf. He rose from his chair to stretch a bit and then walked over to the outside windows and looked out on the street below. The front entrance to the building was a little to the side which made it easy for him to see people coming and going. It was his favorite place to take a mini-break and silently watch people who were as trapped as he was. He felt comfort in the shared misery no more than a prisoner in a cell took comfort in being able to see another prisoner across the hall in a cell block.
He was about to turn away when activity at the front entrance caught his eye. The security guards were escorting someone out of the building. This was all too familiar for Tyler. He had observed it many times while staring out the window. It was easy to spot the professional attention the two guards gave to this part of their job. Everything they did was scripted, including giving the ex-employee a cardboard box to carry his/her personal items in.
Tyler was about to turn away and head back to his cubical when he glanced again at the scene unfolding five stories below. It was then he recognized the person losing his job. It was Ruben. He continued watching without showing any emotion as a taxi pulled to the curb and Ruben climbed in. Tyler kept looking as the taxi pulled away and finally disappeared from view as it rounded a corner.
Without a word he turned and walked back to his desk. In his usual ritual when someone had lost their job, he put his earphones on his head and found the wav file he had saved to his computer years ago. It wasn’t long until Queen’s Another One Bites the Dust pounded in his ears. Closing his eyes he let his head move to the beat of the drums. Soon someone would take advantage of the new open position in the company and move themselves up the chain of command. At least, in this case they would get a bigger office. Tyler smiled to himself as he thought, a bigger cell is still a cell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Crg reached over to adjust the engine’s plasma flow as he studied the blinking symbols in the hologram in front of him. His tentacles caressed the panel as he ever so slightly decreased the power. One of his twelve eyes stole a glance at his fellow pilot sitting beside him. The glance did not go without notice as Cregan sensed the movement and responded with a snort from three of her nostrils.
“There’s no need to become defensive,” Crg retorted through his fifth tentacle.
“You want me to believe you’re not being derisive?” she shot back at him as two of her tentacles moved to surround the one of his that had talked.
The antennae on his head pointed directly toward her as he tried to read her emotions, “I meant nothing by it,” he confessed.
“We’ve been together on this mission too long for you to develop Vex syndrome,” she continued as her tentacles relaxed and moved toward the ship’s control panel.
“Vex syndrome?!?” Crg’s third tentacle exclaimed. “Whatever would make you think that?”
Cregan looked at her partner with three of her eyes and answered, “You’re showing the classic symptoms: Suspicion, anxiety, and a lack of interest in the job at hand.”
“So, you’ve given up being a pilot for the medical profession?” his fifth tentacle sarcastically declared.
“See, you’re showing one of the symptoms,” she retorted. “I’ve done nothing to deserve your attitude, but you can’t help yourself. It’s got to be Vex.”
Crg moved three of his appendages toward her and all three snapped, “I don’t have Vex!!”
“If you say so,” her third tentacle meekly responded.
Two of Crg’s nostrils snorted while the other four slowly inhaled and then exhaled. His tentacles returned to adjusting various settings on the control panel.
Without looking at him, Cregan’s antennae focused their attention on him. She moved her number one tentacle toward him and soothingly said, “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Taking a deep breath, he replied, “I know. It’s been a long mission for both of us. I’m sorry I snapped.”
“That’s okay.”
Moving his number one tentacle toward her, he grunted and then offered, “You haven’t spoken to me with your number one in a long time.”
She closed half her eyes and said, “I know. It’s been too long.”
A small green light on the panel started glowing and interrupted the moment. Crg’s sixth tentacle made a small adjustment to the ship’s course as his number two declared, “Well, that’s as far as we can go. It’s back home for us.”
Cregan turned her attention to the window beside her seat. She studied the darkness with dots of starlight trillions of miles away. Her number two pondered, “Do you think we’ll ever be able to break through to the other side?”
Three of his eyes looked out his window before replying, “Well, you’d have to first believe there’s something on the other side. With all our technologies we still don’t have a clue if there is or not.”
“Part of me wants to believe there has to be something,” her number four revealed. “It’s hard to fathom that there can’t be.”
“I know,” his number five agreed. “Yet, it’s just as difficult to believe the universe has no end. Our minds will not accept infinity as everything else we know has an end and so must the universe. You know that’s what the great minds teach.”
“That’s true,” she agreed. “But, our minds just as quickly rejects the notion of an end. We’re always left wondering what’s on the other side. I feel that there has to be more. There has to be something. Don’t you feel it?”
Crg felt all of his nostrils flare at the same time. “You know such conversations always stimulate me,” he declared through his number one.
Her antennae stood erect as her number one offered, “That was the idea.”
Their number one tentacles moved toward each other but stopped when a thumping sound came from one of the small cages at the back of the room. Crg’s number two declared, “It appears your specimen with the floppy ears and large rear appendages is not happy with his accommodations.”
Her number two responded, “Well, he’s in a cage. Once we get home he’ll have more of a natural surrounding that should make him more comfortable.”
“Yes, but he’ll still be our little prisoner, won’t he?” his number two asked.
“I know,” her number two agreed. “See that’s what I was saying. If the universe does have an end then we’re no different than him. We just have a larger cage to roam in. It may be the universe, but as long as we can’t go beyond it, then we’re just as big a prisoner as he is.”
Crg’s antennae were totally erect as his number one declared, “You’re stimulating me again.”
“I know.”
He moved his number one tentacle toward hers, “If you don’t touch me, I’m going to explode!”
She closed her eyes and wrapped her number one around his as both lost themselves in the world of ecstasy. In the rear of the room the rabbit’s nose twitched as he stared through the bars of his cage at the hamster running round and round in his wheel.
THE END
Copyright ©2014 by Jerry W. Crews
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