Level Up

by Craig Anderson

  “Of course. Whatever you need.”

  Now I am definitely wary. This isn’t her style at all. Usually she can’t wait to tell me how busy she is with very important work.

  “Jenkins asked if I could work on the quarterly report, but I am swamped with other stuff. I don’t suppose you could take a quick look at them to help me out?”

  “Actually, I have some capacity this afternoon. Send me what you have and I will take a first crack at them. When do you need them by?”

  “If you could just send me whatever you have by the end of day I can finish them up tonight.”

  She looks at me puzzled. “Isn’t tonight your birthday drinks with Carlos?”

  “How do you know that?”

  “He invited half the office. Unfortunately I can’t make it. Don’t worry about working on the slides, I will make sure they are done and you have them first thing tomorrow. Consider it a birthday present.”

  There’s a long pause while I wait for her to start laughing, but it never happens. I say, “Thanks Cindy, I really appreciate it. I owe you one.”

  “Nonsense, you would do the same for me Marcus. It’s my pleasure.”

  Did I miss a memo? It is like the Cindy I know and love to hate has been replaced with her sweet and innocent twin. I certainly can’t complain about the timing.

  I skip back to my desk feeling a lot less panicked. If I really knuckle down and concentrate I should be able to get the Saturn Corp slides finished by the end of the day.

  My desk phone rings. I pick it up and Carlos says, “Are congratulations in order?”

  “You know damn well they aren’t. Jenkins did exactly what you said.”

  His tone softens. “I’m sorry mate. I told you, the man’s a weasel. It’s time for you to start looking for something else.”

  “I know that. I’ll start tomorrow. I just have a few last things to wrap up here today.”

  “At least we have drinks tonight to drown your sorrow.”

  “We almost didn’t. Jenkins gave me a ridiculous amount of work to do, but luckily Cindy offered to help.”

  “Are you out of your mind? Don’t trust her!” I keep forgetting he has a history with Cindy. They had something of a personality clash, in so far as Carlos has one, and Cindy doesn’t.

  “Must you always be so paranoid? She wants to do a nice thing for me so we can go for drinks. Maybe this is her attempt to turn over a new leaf.”

  “Mark my words, it’s a stinging nettle.”

  “So who else is coming tonight?”

  There’s a pause before Carlos replies. “Just the two of us buddy, I didn’t want a big group cramping our style. I’m going to be your wingman. Fire up the afterburner and hold on to your hat, it’s going to be wild!”

  So much for half the office. “Where exactly are you taking me?”

  “It’s a surprise!”

  Oh great. I hate surprises. Especially Carlos surprises.

  LEVEL 2: ACCESS DENIED

  A car horn blares on the driveway, interrupting my intense staring at the PDZ slides. I pull myself out of the daze and check the clock. How is it already 10 pm?

  Mum shouts up the stairs. “Carlos is here.”

  “Ok, tell him I’ll be down in a minute.”

  A quick glance at myself in the mirror suggests that I could do with a lot longer. I’m still in my work clothes, which isn’t a great start. My hair looks like a centipede curled up and fell asleep on my head. There are unruly tufts dangling everywhere. It is going to take an ungodly amount of gel to whip it into shape.

  It’s not the only thing that needs to get into shape. My arms have the definition of an 8-bit game. My six pack is currently buried alive under a rippling layer of fast food and beers. Don’t even start on my legs. I skipped all the leg days.

  It doesn’t take long to change into my only decent pair of jeans and a clean shirt. The big advantage of still living with my mum is the excellent laundry service. Never have I known anyone so ruthlessly efficient at ironing.

  My hair takes longer as I desperately try to sculpt it into something resembling intentional style. After several failed attempts I give up and just ruffle it.

  I jump down the stairs two at a time and land with a thud, almost rolling my ankle. I limp into the living room to find Carlos sipping a cup of tea from Mum’s nice china. He says, “Why yes Mrs. Kennedy, I agree that it is a violent sport, and it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Hockey has just always been a passion. Now if we could just get Marcus back on a pair of skates.”

  I plonk down next to him. “I thought we agreed after the last time that we wouldn’t ever put me on ice skates again. I’m a big enough liability in shoes, there’s really no need to strap sharp blades to my feet.”

  Carlos chuckles enthusiastically. He finishes his tea and places it daintily back on the saucer. “Thank you again Mrs. Kennedy for the delightful earl grey. Now if you will excuse us, we shall be departing. I promise to bring your son back in one piece.”

  He strides out of the room like we are on our way to the finest masquerade ball in all the town. I lean over and give my Mum a peck on the cheek. “See you later.”

  She says, “Don’t be late and don’t be drunk!”

  “Love you too.”

  Carlos is already waiting in his shiny new BMW, the engine running with a soft purr. I still can’t get used to seeing him in it. I climb inside and the new car smell hits me instantly as I sink into the plush leather seat. He flashes me a smile. “Would you like your seat warmer on?”

  Seat warmer! My car doesn’t even have a heater, it broke two years ago. I have to bring a thermos of tea to try and warm up the interior. I nod and he pushes one of the myriad of buttons on the dashboard. Within seconds my arse cheeks are toasty warm. I try to keep the envy out of my voice and fail miserably. “I still don’t understand how you can afford this car.”

  “It’s a lease, they are practically giving them away. Besides, it’s good for my career. Customers don’t take a sales guy seriously unless he drives a nice car. If I showed up in my beat-up purple Fiesta I’d have no chance.”

  “But you loved that car! Remember the after market spoiler that created so much drag it lowered your top speed, and that ridiculous speaker you had in the boot that took up all the space and made our teeth hurt if you turned it up to full blast.”

  There were a lot of fond memories in that car, although also a lot of near death experiences. Carlos has never been one for following the rules. Unfortunately that also includes the rules of the road. Thankfully he’s a lot more sensible now that his car is worth more than everything I own combined.

  “So are you going to tell me where we are going?” I ask.

  He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to waggle his eyebrows at me. “You’ll see.”

  “Just promise me it’s not the Kasbah.”

  There’s no logical reason we would go there, every time we do we always swear it will be the last time. Just like ice skating.

  “It may be a stop along the way. For old times sake.”

  “We’re going to more than one place?” I hate how old I sound right now, as if he just suggested we should climb Everest. Still, pub crawls are something I’m happy to relegate to my past, along with sweater vests and my brief dalliance with having a ponytail.

  “Ok Grandpa, put your teeth back in, it’s just a small pub crawl. You can take your foot out of the grave for one night.”

  I consider arguing with him, but since he became a sales guy he’s become really good at convincing people to do stuff they don’t want to. It’s basically what he does for a living now. I’ll have an easier time if I just go along with it and try to convince him to leave early instead. Who knows, perhaps I will even enjoy myself.

  After several minutes weaving in and out of traffic we reach our first destination. The BMW looks very out of place in the car park behind the Kasbah. Every other car looks like it just came last in a demolition derby. Some of them
are so old and rusty I can’t be certain they haven’t been abandoned here. No thief would risk tetanus to try and steal them. Carlos may as well scratch WANKER into the side of his car now and save the local hooligans the trouble. At least he would spell it right.

  As we join the back of the line to get in I make an observation. “Everyone here looks rather young…”

  Carlos does a cursory glance at the group in front of us. There is enough acne between them to coat a football pitch. He shrugs. “I don’t know what you mean. They are the same age that we were when we started coming here.”

  “That was ten years ago! Don’t you remember, we’d see guys our age and joke about how they should be at home with their wife and kids.”

  “Yes, well times were different then. Nowadays the kids are more enlightened, they wouldn’t do something as crude as judge someone based on their age.”

  A new group of lads joins the queue behind us. One of them sneers. “Glad to see that the senior discount is attracting new customers.”

  It’s the first of many such comments. We do our best to ignore them as the line slowly creeps forwards. Eventually Carlos turns to me. “So when are you going to stop working for Jenkins?”

  The question catches me by surprise, mostly because I haven’t really thought about it. I shrug. “I have no intentions of pursuing other opportunities at the moment. I’m quite happy where I am.”

  “You’re in a rut. Jenkins will never take you seriously unless you stick up for yourself. He’s taking advantage of your good nature.”

  Of course he’s right. If that wasn’t already blindingly obvious, today was the final nail in the coffin. Even so, I can’t help but cling on to my last shred of hope. “I just need to impress him for the next six months and…”

  “And nothing. He’ll give that promotion to Cindy. She has more balls than you will ever have. You really need to grow a pair. It’s time someone told you that.”

  I hum the tune to Happy Birthday and he laughs. “Ok fine, I’ll stop giving you a hard time. You know it’s just because I want what’s best for you right?”

  “If you wanted what was best for me we wouldn’t be here!”

  Right on cue the group in front of us is ushered into the building and we are left facing the bouncer. He looks as if someone has shaved a large angry ape and given up halfway through. He stares down at us and scowls. “You here to pickup your kids?”

  Carlos laughs, but there’s no sign that the bouncer is joking. His scowl stays plastered on his face as Carlos says, “No mate, we are just looking to have a quick one in here for old times sake.”

  “Old times is right. You look like a pair of creepy perverts that are trying to pickup eighteen year olds. Sorry lads, I can’t let you in. It’s ladies night tonight, we have to protect our female guests.”

  We both glance at the line behind us. It’s 95% guys. The few women that are scattered amongst them look as if they have been dragged here against their will.

  I’m quite happy to turn and leave, but Carlos pulls out a crisp twenty pound note and tries to slip it to the bouncer with all the subtlety of a marching band. “Maybe you could check your VIP list and see if we are on there.”

  The bouncer pockets the note and glances at his clipboard. “Nope, I don’t see any cradle snatchers on my list. Guess you guys should piss off back to the golf club.”

  It’s the final straw. I’ve been pushed around all day by people abusing their positions of authority and I’ve had enough of it. I step up to the bouncer and poke him in the chest. “I suggest you give my friend his money back and let us in, or I’ll be forced to report you for misconduct.”

  I wasn’t aware that a human body could bounce. The bouncer skims me along the pavement like a skipping stone until I skid to a halt next to a bus stop. Carlos runs up beside me. “What on earth were you thinking?”

  “You told me to grow a pair!”

  “I didn’t mean now! Are you out of your mind? You’re lucky he didn’t throw you into traffic.”

  I stand up and something rattles in my head. That’s probably not a good sign. “I’m not sure lucky is the right word. I’ll be writing a sternly worded letter to his manager.”

  “I’m sure he’s quaking in his boots at the thought of your excellent penmanship.” Carlos looks around sheepishly. “So should we just go to the next pub?”

  I shake my head and the rattling gets worse. “I think perhaps we should just call it a night. I’d like to make it to my 26th year in one piece.”

  Even Carlos is going to have a hard time convincing me to change my mind, but he gives it a solid try. “But we haven’t even had a beer yet. It can’t possibly get any worse!”

  That’s when I hear her voice. It sends a shiver down my spine. I’m so overwhelmed with emotion that I’m barely able to process the words she is saying. “Marcus? Oh my goodness, are you ok?”

  I close my eyes and pray that it is the concussion playing tricks on me. When I open them again I see her smiling at me, the glow of the streetlight behind her casting a glistening aura. She looks like an angel. Perhaps I really am dying. I can only hope. She reaches out and touches my arm, and I groan as I feel it. I’m still in the land of the living. She says, “I saw the whole thing.”

  There goes my last chance of maintaining any dignity from the situation. Of all the people that I didn’t want to see me ricocheting down the street, Sarah would be top of my list. She’d probably be in the top three spots, that’s how much I want to avoid what just happened.

  I manage a weak smile and try to change the topic away from my recent street gymnastics. “Sarah? What are you doing here? I thought you’d moved to Australia.”

  Sarah brushes her strawberry blonde fringe out of her eyes and I feel a familiar pounding in my chest. It doubles in speed as she says, “I moved back a few months ago to join a startup here. I didn’t realize you were still in town…”

  Perhaps I was meant to be thrown by that angry bouncer. This must all be part of fates plan to get us to meet again. It’s my birthday gift from the world. This feels like a story we’ll be telling our kids one day. I’ll be sure to make myself sound less pathetic in my version.

  She looks at her watch and says, “I’m really sorry, I’m running late. Hey, do you still play video games?”

  The noise that comes out of my mouth is supposed to sound like pfft, but it doesn’t sound convincing enough so I drag it out until it becomes awkward. She just stares at me until I say, “Of course not! That stuff is for kids.”

  “Oh. That’s a shame, I’m working on a really cool VR game at the moment and we had a couple of people drop out of tonight’s focus group. I thought it might be the kind of thing you’d like. Never mind.”

  You’ve got to be kidding me. She’s gorgeous, smart, and now she develops cutting edge video games. Fate is really kicking me in the nuts on this one.

  Carlos is smart enough to jump in. “Please ignore Marcus, I think he may be concussed. We love video games and would be happy to help out on your latest project.”

  She smiles at him. “I don’t want to interrupt your evening if you already have plans.”

  “Not at all. We’re just ticking a few things off Marcus’s bucket list. It’s his birthday tomorrow. He always wanted to be almost killed by a bouncer. Now that we can check that one off, our evening is wide open, isn’t that right?” He stares at me and waggles his eyebrows. He’s heard all about Sarah, including the pathetic story of that one time I tried to ask her out. I can see the look on his face. He thinks he’s going to play cupid. Unfortunately subtlety is not his forte.

  I nod and Sarah beams. “That’s great, you’re really helping me out of a pickle. Are you sure you’re ok to walk? It’s not too far.”

  “Me? Oh yeah, no problem.” I try a laugh, but it makes my ribs ache.

  Sarah sets off at a brisk pace. Carlos says, “I’ll catch up, just got to tie my shoes.” He winks at me. It would be a lot more convincing if his shoes had
laces.

  I try to think of something to say, but no words come out. I’m not good at small talk. I’m not good at big talk either. Talking in general is an issue, especially as far as women are concerned. That applies ten fold when Sarah is involved.

  I have a flashback to the first and only time I tried to ask her out. I went through the scenario a hundred times. I was going to casually drop into conversation that we should grab dinner some time. I was going for a delicate touch, no pressure, an offer she could politely refuse without ending our friendship. Instead I screamed, “YOU SHOULD DINNER!” in her face and bolted from the room. It took me three weeks until I could muster the courage to talk to her again. When she left for Australia I spent days searching for cheap flights down under, only to realize I could barely afford to eat, let alone jet halfway around the world. I never thought I would see her again.

  And yet, here she is, walking right alongside me. It’s my chance to make things right. I just have to find something we can both talk about. Perhaps I can find some common ground. “What is your game about?”

  “I don’t want to say too much and ruin the fun, but we are trying to recreate the massive scope and scale of an online RPG in virtual reality. We are using cutting edge technology to massively increase immersion and make it feel as if you’re really there, fighting alongside real people. We also have some pretty amazing artificial intelligence. Sometimes it is hard to tell the NPC’s from the players. I think you’ll really like it. There’s skill trees, loot to find, card games to master and a whole bunch more stuff. You’re going to be blown away.”

  How can I tell her I already am? She still looks stunning, even more so than I remember. Just seeing her again has brought all those long buried feelings rushing back to the surface. This is it, my second chance. I’m going to grow a pair, just like Carlos suggested, and ask Sarah out.

  I open my mouth to speak and no words come out, just a faint gargling sound. I do my best to pass it off as a cough. Sarah looks at me concerned. “Are you ok?”