Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Alright... You Asked For It!

Cue the Apocalypse. Kim is hereby posting an excerpt from her short story Kevin. It's a finished work, so it's not likely that anything will be revised, other than typos and such. I don't really know what other preamble to give it, so... Enjoy! (Or don't, you don't have to like it)

Also, it's mine. Any copying of any kind is 100% illegal. Gotta protect my stuffs.


Kevin


Ellis Island.

I’d hardly call it an island. It’s more like a rock dropped in a harbor. It was only big enough to hold the visitor center.

I’m not a visitor. I’m a resident. Bile rises in my throat at the thought of living in such a polluted, over inhabited world.

New York. Not really new, but it sure as hell is new to me. Looking out the window I can see the number of cloud reachers. I wonder if they call them cloud reachers here? They probably have a different name for them. By the looks of all the metal and the smell of the grime in the air, they may refer to them as tall buildings and short buildings. I doubt they have the imagination to come up with an elaborate structure name like “cloud reacher”.

I never thought I’d miss the beauty of home. I spent most of my time indoors. Inside with my electrical processors and a cup of coffee. That was all I ever needed.

Now, though, I’m stuck here. Outside of my tenement. God, I’m probably going to have to talk to other people.

As I walk in no particular direction, I wonder about who will be “collecting” me. The only information I have is my new name, offender number, and that I would be collected at Ellis Island on February 26th. I reread my little identification card again, in case I missed something:


Kevin Brown

#355-27187-51

Earth

Ellis Island 02/26/27


“Great” I mumble to myself, rolling my eyes, “what the hell am I supposed to do now?”

Looking around, hoping for a clue, I see nothing. Just the big empty visitor center. Being on the upper floor, I walk to the railing so I can see the entire establishment. I peer over the edge. In the big open space, down below, are a few groups of people. All of them with a child or two. They must all be visiting. Visiting what, I still don’t know. None of them seem to be paying attention to me, but why would they? Obviously my collector won’t have children with them.

I turn around and rest my elbows on the railing. This waiting is killing me. I feel like that’s all I’ve done since I was arrested. Go here and wait. Go there and wait. Attend your trial and wait. It’s hard to imagine my trial started only two weeks ago. The Magistrate’s words still pound in my ears, over and over again.

Genhuul Fyx you have been found guilty of intentional murder by other means on all accounts. I can give you to a life sentence in an improvement environment. However, due to your complete lack of remorse and utter failure to gain a conscious throughout this entire ordeal, I am sentencing you to fifty years on Earth. After which you can begin conditional release proceedings. I hope, for your sake Mr. Fyx, that while imprisoned on Earth, you gain some humanity. For you are without. Enforcers, ready him for transport. Get this creature out of my sight.”

It was like a theme park automated ride spiel. Only instead of “keep your arms and legs inside at all times” it was “fifty years on Earth”. I hadn’t even any time to adjust to the idea of an off world existence. The next morning I was loaded into a transporter stall, and woke up in the Ellis Island men’s toilet chamber. What a lovely awakening that was.

Where the hell is this guy? This shit always happens to me. I was going about just fine. Minding my own business, making a living the only way I knew how when those damned enforcers showed up; busted down my door without so much as a knock. Wearing nothing but under shorts and socks they paraded me down the hall, in wrist chains. One day I’ll get back home and spit on every one of ‘em. It’s not my fault I’m good at what I do. If the government paid better than methodized illegality, I’d work for them. But, the legitimate guys don’t pay as much, so I’m left with no choice. I got to watch out for me. Nobody I know would choose less money over more money. Nobody.

Wait. I think there’s someone coming. Three people heading my way. A man and a woman, with another woman behind them. Yup. The two in front are looking right at me. These must be my collectors. Why are there three of them? Am I that big a threat? I should be honored, but I’m almost useless without my individual electronic processor. I probably don’t need one correctional enforcer, let alone three.

The guy in front seems pretty normal. That thick brown hair must be a pain to keep clean in this god awful air. He’s pretty lean, though. Even with his long, dark brown, coat I can tell he doesn’t have much bulk to him. Not the ideal build for an enforcer. Hanging from one shoulder was his bag. He must be the all work, socially awkward, probably made fun of while growing up type.

The girl next to him said something, smiling. Her shoulder length, wavy red hair bouncing a little as she walks. Damn, she’s probably one of those cheerful, “I’m going to change your life you’ll see!” people. She’s got thick, black framed glasses and is carrying a white scarf and wool, navy blue, jacket. I can feel her sunshine and rainbows philosophy even at 15 feet away.

The one in the back was just walking. Straight faced, with her black leather jacket, and sunglasses still on. She also had a scarf. A black and red one. It’s must be pretty cold outside. Which means I’m going to freeze my ass off. Great.

The man spoke first, “Hello there, you must be...” he searches his pockets, looking for their orders to collect me no doubt.

The red haired girl just looks at me, slightly wide eyed.

“Kevin” the girl in the back says. “Kevin Brown.” She flips her long, very dark brown, hair off her shoulder then hands him the folded paper he was looking for. From what I can tell she hasn’t’ taken her eyes off me.

“Thank you” the man says, smiling at her. He takes the paper, unfolds it and reads the text. “Ah, yes. Is this you?” he asks, handing me the paper. It was identical to my identification card:


Kevin Brown

#355-27187-51

Earth

Ellis Island 02/26/27


I roll my eyes. “I guess so”.

“Do you have your ID card?” he asks.

“Oh, right” I pull it out of my gray pant’s pocket. Hopefully I can change out of my lock up clothes soon. The steel gray pants and tee-shirt were doing nothing to help my mood.

“All right” says the man, smiling at me. Handing it back he goes on “Everything seems to be in order. I’m William Roberts” he holds out his hand.

I shake it.

William turns to the young, red haired, woman. “This is Lauren Anderson”

“Hi there” she says. Also, shaking my hand. Her eyes are like perfect little chocolates.

“And this is Rebecca Tyler” William tells me, gesturing to the dark haired woman.

She didn’t shake my hand.

“Here” Lauren says, handing me a men’s, black wool jacket. “It’s cold as balls outside.”

I put it on, hoping it’s warm enough. I don’t need this day to get any more miserable.

“You’re welcome, now let’s blow this popcicle stand” Lauren tells me.

Her and William turn around and head toward the giant staircase. Rebecca steps aside, then jerks her head toward the others, telling me to move along. She’s got to be an enforcer. These other two are probably case managers or counselors.

What a fun-filled fifty years it’s going to be.

I catch up to the others, Rebecca follows behind me. As if I’m going to make a run for it. Where the hell would I go?

We reach the bottom of the stairs, and William opens the door for us. It’s bright outside. Too bright. I shield my eyes, but it’s almost burning right through my eyelids.

“Wear these” I hear someone say. It’s too much to open my eyes and find out which woman said it. I feel the pair of sunglasses pushed into my hand. Quickly putting them on, I blink back the water in my eyes.

William pats me on the back, he’s about three inches shorter than me. “It can take the eyes a little while to adjust to direct sunlight. And, don’t worry, that smell is normal.”

I notice it just as he says it. Oh God! What is that? It’s that grime smell from inside, only magnified by a hundred. I put the sleeve of my jacket over my hand and up to my nose. “What the hell is that?!” I ask them.

William inhales deeply. “That, my friend, is New York. The air quality isn’t really worse than home’s. It’s just... different. You’ll get used to it.” He points to a ferry docking at the edge of the island. “The ferry ride will help.”

“Are you kidding me?” I blurt out. “Off world transport, new air, and a rickety old sea cruise all in one morning?”

Lauren smiles at me. “Welcome to Earth.”

Earth.

I hate the word. I hate the idea. I hate that I’m boarding a beat up ferry for the, oh so fabulous, New York.

Toward the front, I sit on the first bench I find. Lauren trots up to the railing overlooking the water. William and Rebecca sit next to me. One on each side. What am I going to do, jump overboard? That’s the life of an offender, I guess. Never to be trusted again.

The vessel slowly lurches forward. It gains speed faster than I thought it could. The frigid sea breeze makes my nose run, but it does help with the smell.

Up front, Lauren stretches her arms out wide. Apparently, boat rides are her thing. She looks like a child. I hope she’s not supposed to be an authority figure.

“Will” Rebecca says “Go get her. It’s freaking freezing.”

“Good plan” he agrees. He jumps up and walks over to her.

I look over at Rebecca. She’s frowning. I let out a quiet scoff. “You look almost as pissed as I am.”

Her face snapped toward me. So much anger behind her emerald eyes.

Hold on.

Her eyes. I’ve only now noticed her sunglasses are gone. She looks me up and down. The anger quickly turns to annoyance as she shakes her head, then goes back to staring straight ahead.

“Do you want your glasses back?” I ask, reaching up to take them off.

“Keep them on” she replies, quickly. “Your eyes aren’t ready yet. Mine have had plenty of time to get used to it.”

“Exactly how long have you been here?” I wonder.

“Oh, diving right into the good stuff” Lauren said, as her and William return to the bench. Well, William sat on the bench. Lauren sat in front of me, on the ground. What a weirdo.

William takes over the conversation, “Good idea. There’s nobody around to hear us, so let’s get it out of the way. I’m forty four years old. I’ve been here thirteen of my thirty year sentence. One count of impulsive murder.”

“Wait, wait, wait” I interrupt. “You’re an offender?”

“Of coarse” William tells me.

I’m stunned. No wonder there was a total lack of professionalism.

“In a way, Kevin” he goes on “We’re all the same, Laura?”

She nods. “I’ve been here six years. Several counts of robbery, including the Royal Scepter of Incartan, a number of Plushio paintings, and endless bank jobs. Not too shabby for being a nineteen year old girl. They finally caught me at First International Bank, turned out my demo guy was in on it. He was offered a shortened sentence in exchange for my capture. It would have hurt less if I wasn’t sleeping with him. I guess that’s why they tell you not to get involved with coworkers. Any who, I refused to rat out my team, which landed me here.”

I’m stunned again. I had actually heard of this girl. “You’re the one who stole the Plushios?!”

She stands up and bows “The very one.”

“You stole from my boss! He was red in the face for days after you stole his precious Day at Sea painting.”

Lauren’s smile falls from her face. “Your boss was Pohlar Verikuss?”

“The mob-boss?” William asks, equally shocked.

“Um, yes my employer was Mr. Verikuss, and what’s a mob-boss?” How was I ever going to learn new jargon for every little thing?

Their moods lightened a bit (except Rebecca’s, hers never changed in the first place) William smiles “Sorry. Here methodized illegality is referred to as organized crime, or if using slang: the mob.”

I slump against the bench. “How the hell am I supposed to relearn English? None of this shit is fair.”

“Oh, tsk tsk. Language Mr. Brown” Lauren says to me, her sarcasm already past irritating.

“Are you guilty of what you were accused of?” Rebecca asks, not turning to face to me.

Of coarse I am. There isn’t a shred of innocence left in me. If there was even any to begin with. “I’m here aren’t I?” I say.

Slowly, she looks over to me. “I didn’t ask if you were found guilty. I asked if you actually are guilty.”

I try to stare her down. Glaring into those piercing green gems, I do my best to intimidate her.

She doesn’t budge.

“Yes” I tell her.

“Then it’s perfectly fair” she states.

William, breaking the tension says “There’s still some ferry ride left, why don’t you give us your story, Kevin?”

Fine. I’ll tell my unfortunate tale. “I was arrested for murder by other means.”

Lauren furrows her brows. “By other means?”

I smile “I’m a hacker. Pohlar hired me to take out unwanted people by using everyday things. You know, so they really do look like accidents. One I caused to be in a fatal auto conveyance smashup. I hacked into the city’s intersection control, tweaked a few lights to go when they shouldn’t, and timed it with high speeds.”

“They’re called cars” Lauren interrupts.

I roll my eyes at her. “I could do just about anything. They were delicate operations, but all successful. Nineteen successful kills, all without ever leaving the comforts of my tenement.”

William stops me and says “Apartments. Tenements are apartments here.”

“Nineteen?” Lauren asks.

“In three years” I add.

“Damn” she says. “You don’t seem to be bothered a bit by having killed nineteen people.”

I shrug “I’m not. Why do I care if these people live or die. It’s not like I know who they are.”

Lauren stands up. “What about their families? What if they had children?!”

Uh oh. I think I woke the beast.

The ferry slowed. “Not my problem” I tell her.

She was speechless, now. It feels kind of good to have upset one of them. This happy family setting was too much for me.

We all stood up as the boat stopped. William was the first to speak “Let’s all go home, yeah?”

He walked to the ramp that led off the ferry and into New York. I follow him. Lauren stays behind with Rebecca.

New York

There are people everywhere. I hate people. They’re the reason I stayed locked up in my tenement (apartment, I mean).

From behind me I hear Rebecca “Laura, do you think you can rustle us up some subway fare?”

“By the looks of all these tourists, not a problem.” she answers.

“Meet us at South Ferry Station” Rebecca tells her.

I look over my shoulder and see Lauren nod, then dive into the crowd.

“Let’s keep moving, then” William says to us.

We do. There are so many people, so many sights, and so many smells. William walks fast, but I keep up. Maneuvering between bodies is all I can concentrate on.

William suddenly stops, he turns to me and says “Here we are.”

I look up and see a sign reading South Ferry Station. “Underground rail?” I ask him.

“Or the subway, as it’s named here” he informs me. “Now we just wait for Laura .”

The wait was shorter than I thought it would be. It’s only been fifteen minutes, and she’s heading this way. That blaze of hair is unmistakable.

She nods to us, and we make our way down, to the subway.

This train is a joke. It smells different than outside, but not better. There are people here too. There seem to be people every which way I turn.

“The ride’s not far” William says. “Why don’t we sit down?” he motions to a few empty seats.

We sit.

Lauren looks to William, “I got enough for dinner tonight too. So you want to eat first or go home first?”

Please let it be to take me home first. I’m not hungry, and I could use a break from the thousands of people.

“Home” Rebecca answers her. “Kevin needs a change of clothes, and to relax.”

William nods “I agree. Let’s stay in tonight. Pizza and some down time.”

Thank God.

We ride the rest of the way in silence.

“We’re the next stop” William finally says to me. “Then home is only a few blocks away.”

I nod.

We get off the train, walk up the stairs and into the fresh (if you can call it fresh) air. The farther we get from the subway, the fewer people I see. I realize the sun is getting lower in the sky. My transport must have been a long one.

A couple of blocks later, I see a brown, dingy building. Little tiny balconies are scattered along the side of it, with ladders connecting them.

William opens the thick metal doors leading inside, and steps back for us to go through.

“Home sweet home” Lauren says as she walks past me, and into the building.

I take off the sunglasses and follow her in.

We walk up four or five flights of stairs. I lose count, starting to realize how tired I am. William leads us down a hallway to a door at the very end. He pulls out a ring with three keys, from his pocket. Selecting the slightly larger key, he inserts in into one the lock, then a smaller key into the lower keyhole on the doorknob. Opening the door, he walks in. Then Lauren. Then me. As always, Rebecca brings up the rear, then closes the door behind her. She re-locks both locks, and a chain at the top.

Great. Must be a bad part of town.

“What is this?” I hear William say.

I walk down the short entry hallway, and into an open room with two chairs, a sofa, and a few lamps. Around the corner, on the other side of the wall of the entry way, is a little kitchen. It looks old and the wooden table and chairs have definitely seen better days. It does, however, smell like food. It smells good. Maybe I am a little hungry.

At the stove, stirring something in a pot, is another man.

Lauren smiled and ran over to him. “James! You’re the best!” she says hugging the young man. He had more muscle than William. His physique was toned, but not massive. His hair was the color of sand, and kind of shaggy.

“I had a free night” he says “so I thought I’d come over and do dinner for ya.”

Lauren smacks him on the ass. “You’re the best!” she says again.

William walks over to me. “James, meet the new guy. This is Kevin. Transported in this evening. Kevin this is James.”

James strides over, and shakes my hand. “Hey. I hope you’re hungry.” He smiles at me.

I half smile back, and leave it at that.

“You’re a good man, James” William says.

“It’s pretty much done. Knock yourselves out” James replies.

William and Lauren peel off their coats and drape them over the wooden chairs. I take mine off, but hold on to it, not really sure where to put it.

“Let’s show you around” Lauren says to me. She takes my coat and leads me to a room on the other side of the kitchen. “This is where you’ll sleep” she tells me. It’s small. The walls are gray, and there are two mattresses on the floor. “Will sleeps in here too. It’s not much, but it’s better than what others have.”

She throws my coat on the mattress farthest from the door, that’s under a window. “And, out here” she continues, walking out of the room, to a white door just outside it. “is the bathroom.” She opens the door. Inside is a toilet, and bathing basin with a shower.

“Toilet chamber equals bathroom?” I ask.

“Yes” she answers. Then, she points to the room across from mine. The door was open and I see two other mattresses on the floor. “That’s where us girls sleep. Cozy isn’t it?” she giggles. “You saw the living room, and there’s a fire escape outside the window in there. That’s it. Let’s eat!”

“Do you want to change first?” I hear William ask me.

“Oh, yeah” I say.

“There’s a tee shirt and a sweat shirt on my bed for you. We’ll have to get you pants tomorrow, seeing as you’re not quite my size” he chuckles.

“Right” I say, and go into the little room to change.

I close the door, and immediately throw off my lockup tee shirt. On William’s bed I see a brown tee-shirt. It says The Beatles in white writing. I shrug. Whatever that means.

I leave the sweat shirt, not needing it, and head for the door. As I grab the doorknob I hear Lauren speaking.

“How long do you think he’ll stay with us, Will?” I hear.

Damn, these are some thin walls.

“Too soon to tell” I hear William answer.

“He’s freaking me out” she says, lowering her voice. “You heard him about not being sorry for killing all those people. It’s like he has no feelings...”

I, silently, open the door, hoping to catch them talking about me. I hate people talking about me.

“Just remember” William tells her “some people don’t feel enough, while others feel too much” then he nodded toward Rebecca, as she plopped down in one of the living room chairs. “Everyone handles their emotions differently.”

What is that supposed to mean? I step out of my room, and close the door. The sound causes William and Lauren to turn around.

William grins. “Shall, we eat?”

I nod.

We go back to the kitchen and sit down at the square wooden table. One of the chairs from the living room was pushed up to it so we could all fit. It was crowded.

Five bowls, five spoons and five glasses of water were already there. I watch as James pours soup into all of the bowls. Now, I’m really hungry.

“Becca!” James calls. “Come and eat.”

“Just a minute” she answers, from the living room. A personal electrical processor was on her lap. It looks a little different from the one I had at home. But it was definitely an electrical processor.

James leaves the table and goes over to her. He closes the processor, and sets it on the couch next to her. “Please? You can do that later” he says. He takes her arm and pulls her to her feet.

She sighs, then comes to the table.

James follows, sitting next to her.

I eat quietly. The others talk about their days, their lives. Lauren makes an inappropriate joke about a politician. I don’t know who he is, so I don’t get it. I’m not worried about it, though. I’ll have fifty years to get it.

After the soup (which wasn’t so bad) James starts clearing up the dishes.

Rebecca stands up too “I’ll help you, before I go to work” she tells James.

Lauren trots over to the sofa. “I figure we better show Kevin how to check in” she says.

“Bring the computer over here” William says.

She picks up the electrical processor, and brings it with her, back to the kitchen. Setting it down in front of me, she opens it up.

“Computer” I say. “Different name, but finally something I can understand.”

William smiles “James, our new fellow here is also a computer guy, quite like yourself.”

“Wait until he gets a load of Interface” James replies over his shoulder from the sink.


Thursday, January 20, 2011

Destiny?

So the school thing didn't happen for Spring 2011. But all is well.

I was really fighting with myself when it didn't happen. I was so pumped, and felt like my "plan" was so right. I was headed in the right direction, and things were going to fall into place. Then, it didn't happen. My paperwork didn't get to me in time, and there was not a damn thing I could have done about it. I panicked. Was this the Fate's way of telling me not to go to school? Was this not meant to be after all? Am I destined to be a bum with a head full of dreams and the gumption for nothing? I really, 100% fully felt it was the Gods telling me I may never amount to anything.

Then! Things took a most interesting turn. The other day, whilst doing nothing particularly worthy of note, I was conversing with mine cousin Andrea. You all remember her. She's the extremely photogenic one, only six months my junior. Any who, I was explaining how I was already thinking of changing my major to art history being as now I had time to lose some focus and think (thinking is bad for me, gets me into trouble). She wondered what I was to do with such a degree in Utah. Perfectly legitimate question. I answered with a laugh and a "girl, I'm not staying in Utah, I'm moving."
"Where?"
"Anywhere! Probably Europe."
There was her light bulb. Bam! You can go places.

Thus, a whole new plan was born.

Destiny isn't stopping me from going to school. I was only being postponed so Andrea could join me. And, that's exactly what she's going to do. We're going to learn, live, and get degrees together.

Now we just need to put all out little brilliant ducks in a row, and our new lives will unfold before us. We're so excited to go to school and learn about the things we love, while securing our future well being.

It's kind of funny. I was so afraid of going back to school, and taking on the overwhelming project of a successful life. Then, I was even more terrified of it not happening, no matter how hard I fought for it. And, now, I'm back to being excited and hopeful. Not only that, I've got someone who'll have my back (and I hers) when things get rough and frightening. Which, they will. Destiny knew I needed a little extra strength, and apparently, someone else did two. Now, we've got each other and we can take on the world. In fact... We're planning to.

Look out!

Saturday, January 15, 2011

Intuition

It has come to my attention that several people are misusing their intuition. A harsh judgement, but quite possibly true. I include myself in this blatant accusation, mind you. How many times have you scolded yourself saying "I knew I shouldn't have done that..." or "I knew that was going to happen..."? Think about it for a moment.

I present to you my theory of misused intuition. People have the "gut feeling" telling them to do or don't do certain actions, make this decision or the other, even fight or flight. We don't, however, actually heed the advice of our inner selves. We think we use our intuition (hence the "I knew that was going to happen!" thought), but truthfully we're only acknowledging the feeling. After our heart nudges at us we go on and charge full steam ahead in the OPPOSITE direction. Then we curse ourselves and shake our head saying "I should have gone with my gut".

Only the other day, I caught myself doing it. I was faced with a sort of dilemma, and "knew" what I should do, but other reasons told me to take the chance. Consciously, I thought, "I have impeccable intuition telling me not to do this... But how will I know, unless I try?"

Then, it hit me. How was I going to know if my intuition was right, unless I tested it. Bam! THAT'S why we don't "listen" to our gut feelings. We want to prove whether we're "right" or not. So many of us would rather know whether our intuition is correct, than avoid strife by listening to it.

Heed my words, all five of you, forget about the fact that your intuition may be spot on; listen to it. Choose to think "my heart tells me to do this" instead of "my heart told me to do that".

All this seems a little confusing now that it's in print. *shrug* Just thoughts.

Any who, enough of that. On to other things...

I've accomplished 14 of my "25 Things to do before I turn 26" list. Pretty proud of myself, actually. I've done more than I figured I would. It makes me laugh a little, some of the things I haven't done are things I was almost certain I wouldn't have a problem with; others I've done are things I didn't think would be touched. Go figure. I'm still working on it, though. Hoping to get one or two more things crossed off.

I'm collecting vintage teacups now. Good ones. None of them matching. I've dubbed it "The Teacup Project". It includes an entire plan of constructing a display for them and throwing real live tea parties. I feel good about it.

Oh! I'm thinking of a different major for school. I know, I know, I haven't started classes yet and I'm already thinking of changing it up. *shakes head* Did you actually expect me to commit to something? Silly readers... Art history and/or psycology are the studies up for consideration, in case you were wondering.

I got a new day planner... It's pretty spiffy.

I think that's about it for my boring life. I partially apologize for the rant on intuition. Wait... Strike that. I apologize for nothing. NOTHING.

Alright, alright. I'll let you get back to your lives now. Peace out.

Monday, January 10, 2011

It's the 10th...

... and I'm supposed to be starting classes today.

I'm not, however.

Thank you University of Utah and/or United States Postal Service for dragging your feet. It must feel nice to have so much power over one tiny person's future.