subrosa: the adventures of bill chase chapter_11

Chapter 11


A scream of terror silenced the patrons in the fast food restaurant. An old man nearly dove off his seat to hide under his table when the garbage flap, the flap that said ‘push’ on it, slammed with a crisp clap. The people in the restaurant were uneasy for a few long seconds as they pondered the weird reality of the seemingly misplaced horror. The sense of timeless unknowing was soon extinguished by the return of movement and sound.

The man who had innocently allowed the flap to slam felt he had to defend himself. He looked around in disbelief before explaining to the workers at the food counter that he had only allowed the flap to shut. His defence was not needed, for no one had accused him of any crime. When he understood that everyone else was as bewildered as he was, he put down his empty food tray and walked over to the old man to ask if he was all right. The old man had recovered in the few seconds that had passed, so was able to assure the self-accused man, and thus the rest of us, that he was okay. During the event the old man’s friend was motionless and expressionless. The event did not strike him as unusual. He looked heavily sedated; not with drugs, rather something more wearing.

I watched the event intently. When I started studying the faces of other people, I began to laugh. I did not want to laugh. It was not funny. The incident seemed tragic. The blank faces sent me into hysterics. I tried to conceal myself but there was no use.

"Control yourself," Jimmy requested, suspecting that I was about to be the next scene.

I wiped my watery eyes with a napkin as I made an effort to gain control over my emotions. A beautiful girl was watching me. Soon she occupied my thoughts.

The two old men, having finished their fast food fix, got up to leave. The man who had screamed stopped at our table to lean over and quietly explain to Jimmy and I that he had been in the Second World War. The sound had reminded him of a certain gun. He had said thename but I did not catch the code. M-16 maybe. The two old men left out the front door. The people in the restaurant went on with their own lives.

Jimmy and I discussed how much of an impact the man had made on us. I appreciated that he had stopped to explain the reason for his alarming reaction to a common sound. It was the most impressive anti-war lesson I had ever had. I might have guessed he had been in the war because he was wearing a poppy on his tie. Remembrance Day was a couple months off.

I wanted to apologise for my laughter. I wanted to explain that it was not at him that I was laughing. I might have been laughing because I was afraid to cry.

I wondered if he might have understood that my laughter indicated my discomfort and that I only wanted to ease my confusion. A sadness filled me as I though about the cruelty of sending people to kill each other.

I watched the beautiful girl across the room. I wanted her. I could not make the effort to get up and talk to her. I assumed she must be with her boyfriend anyway. I was wrong. She soon finished eating; she and her friend walked past us to the front door. She was a dream. It hurt to see her go. I raised my eyebrows for a second in an attempt to communicate. She returned a big beautiful smile. I felt that I had lost something as she disappeared forever out the front door.

Jimmy and I threw away our garbage on our way out to the pickup. He often took the truck to school so that he could go out for lunch. Sometimes, I walked to the school to meet him so we could drive the main street together and listen to a tape of Black Sabbath or Led Zeppelin.

My time was soon over. Jimmy was back in school, there was not much to do on the farm, Suzanne was gone to Toronto and I did not fit into their family well enough to trouble them through the winter.

I rode back with Jimmy to his school. Kathy had a later lunch so I thought I could say hello or good-bye. Jimmy left me in the hallway to run to his next class. I wandered about observing different attitudes for a few minutes. The range of clothing styles was amusing. I mixed easily enough; there did not seem to be a standard unless it was who could have baggier pants. Most likely I missed something that made them all the same.

In the halls were boys holding girls, boys talking to boys about girls or sports and girls talking about boys and movie stars. There was likely more going on than that but I did not care to notice. I wanted to see the students as mating reptiles.

The building was too cold. Cold colours on cold concrete walls, harsh artificial lighting and impersonal classrooms made it look more like a processing plant than a place of learning.

Eventually, I found the cafeteria by following people with brown bags. I sat in the cafeteria to watch it fill up with people. I was certain that they all protected themselves with masks. The masks were needed by the looks of the way they lashed out at each other’s wounds like frightened, hungry for blood, mutant lizards.

Although I was bemused with the scene, I relaxed and became very placid. I almost fell asleep.Humans could be mildly soothing if looked at a certain way. Funny life sacks.

"Hi, little boy. Do ya want some candy?"

Kathy sat down beside me and ripped open her lunch bag.

"What are they doing to you here?"

"Don’t concern yourself. We are being programmed to handle the artificial world man has created to isolate himself from the natural world which no longer exists," Kathy explained.

"That makes sense."

Kathy handed me half of her salmon sandwich.

"Thank you."

"What brings you here?" Kathy asked.

"My feet. And Jimmy’s dad’s truck."

"Good, good."

"And I wanted to see the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Is she here? Does she visit our school?"

"She just sat down beside me."

"Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Cheer up or die," a voice said.

I looked up to see a young man sit down across from us. My fist impression was that he thought he was on top of the world. He was so self-assuredly friendly that I could not help but like him. I almost laughed at him.

"Hi, Sexy. Who’s your friend?" he asked.

"Bill."

"Hi, Bill. I’m Duke."

"What do you think about the whole thing, Duke?" I asked.

"I’m not paid to think."

"I can understand that."

"Bill, can I ask you a question?"

"I hope so."

"Fine. This is the question: Is Kathy your woman?"

"I do not own her."

"Good answer. But tell me this: How old are you?"

"I do not know. How old is the universe?"

"Okay, you don’t want to tell me. Here’s another question, if you’re up for more: why is it that the most beautiful women in the school go find themselves a freak somewhere else and leave us high and dry? Can you just answer me that?"

"I am not sure how that works," I answered.

"Well, I just don’t think it’s the right thing. What do you suppose I should do?"

"Find a solution to the world’s population problem. After that, work on clean air and clean water."

"Thanks, Bill. That should keep me busy."

Duke gave up on me when a few of his friends joined him. They talked while they ate their lunch. They did not pay much attention to me so it was easy for me to listen to them.

They did not seem that different from me. They likely had a slightly different upbringing which would make their ideas different than mine but I was certain our differences were insignificant. They were probably much more aware of their past; they had something to refer to. When I looked into my past, I only found darkness. It struck me that I might have been the mutant.

The crowd faded away when they had finished eating. They might have got up and left. I could not remember. I felt like I was waking up from a dream.

"I’ll skip my last class. We can go for a walk," Kathy said.

"Really? Is that permitted?"

"No, but things like that are only made illegal so that they are more appealing."

"That should make sense?"

"Don’t worry."

She had a strong will, I thought, for a young woman. She was always making her own decisions. Not even her father could tell her anything. It felt good to be part of her life. It was amusing to see that most of the other boys desired her too.

"How many boy friends do you have?"

"They are just admiring my ass, thinking about getting inside these tight jeans."

"I can understand that."

"You might notice that some of the girls are looking at you too."

"They probably foolishly deduct that I must be someone important if you will talk to me."

"You’re a bit out to lunch, but with you it’s a plus point."

"If you say so."

"You’re the kind of guy girls long for."

"What kind is that?"

"Sweet and quietly sexy. Hard outside and soft inside."

I could not decide the best way to perceive things. Programming of young people in stuffy institutions seemed to evade the problem of how to be. It made everyone the same. It made them all quiet and content. They would all fit in somewhere in the artificial world man had created. They would all get jobs. They would all own their own television. They would all die without questioning what they were doing.

"What is the best way to look at the universe?" I asked aloud.

"Who knows? Let it look at you," Kathy answered.

"Okay. I will try that."

I was still uncertain of the meaning of love and marriage but whatever they were, I was certain I could do them with Kathy. When the sun was shining.

We sat on the grass in a small park to watch the squirrels flip about. They seemed unconcerned with worries. They where busy enough running around and eating nuts. I admired their freedom. I wondered if they knew something that we did not know or if maybe they did not know something that we did know.

"Squirrels are great," I declared.

"If you say so."

"I think I have to leave. I might go to Toronto. Suzanne said she could help me find a place to live."

Kathy did not answer.

"Are you going to respond?"

"I don’t know."

"Do you think I will ever see you again? I do not think I will be coming back here. I would love for you to come with me but I would not ask you to forfeit your life here for an uncertainty like me. But if you ever thought you did not want to live here any more," I rambled on.

"Bill, if you ask me to go with you, I’d think about it."

"Will you?"

"Yes." She lay back on the grass to let the sun kiss her face. "I will think about it."



by Joanne B. Washington

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