The Shift of Numbers

by Warrington, David

  “What are you doing?” Gordon shouted over. The man stuffed the carrots in his pockets and ran as fast as he could away from Gordon. Gordon looked at his watch; it was nearly 5 o’clock so, emptying the rest of the bottle out behind a tree, he walked back to the hut. He knocked on the door and a cloud of smoke, followed by the Scientist, emerged.

  “How did it…” cough “go?” asked the Scientist.

  “It went well,” answered Gordon, not bothering to tell the Scientist about the strange man he saw.

  “Did you spray all the carrot tops once and only once?” demanded the Scientist fixing Gordon’s eyes in a steely gaze.

  “That’s what you told me to do.”

  “But is that what you did?”

  “Of course,” said Gordon staring directly into his eyes. The Scientist looked like he wanted to say more but started coughing. He motioned Gordon to follow him and they both made their way up the hill back to the house. Bill was waiting for them on the driveway to the house.

  “How did he fare?” Bill said amiably to the Scientist.

  “He did okay,” the Scientist replied in a flat voice.

  “Excellent,” exclaimed Bill, rummaging in his pocket. “You won’t get paid till next Friday, lad, and we are all going down the pub. This will get you a couple of pints after that hard day’s work you had.” He handed Gordon a 10 pound note and, without asking if he wanted to go to the pub, he called over to the other workers and shouted that it was the new lad’s round. Everyone cheered apart from Gordon and the Scientist, who both looked a little bewildered.

  Within 15 minutes they were at the pub and Gordon was bundled to the bar by the happy workers.

  “What’s your poison, son?” asked the barman.

  “Erm…drinks all round?” replied Gordon, still unsure of what was happening.

  “Coming right up,” the barman poured out a pint for Gordon and while another was pouring he winked at Gordon and said, “That’s 10 pounds please, squire.”

  “Cheers,” said Gordon and handed a 10 pound note to the barman who held the dirty note up to the light, frowned and put it into the till.

  “3 cheers for the new lad. Very generous, I thought,” shouted Bill after everyone had gotten their drinks.

  *

  From the moment the seed was planted in the ground, the carrot cells were dividing, millions and millions of them swelling and breaking apart, gaining all they needed to grow by leaching the soil of its nutrients and drinking in sunlight, all the time being nourished by the water and fertiliser Bill and his workers provided. This care that all Bill’s carrots received made each one grow quickly. Once fully-grown, they could now begin the next stage in their lives. It started with being uprooted and mechanically shaken vigorously to remove any loose soil. Once out of the ground things really got interesting for the carrot. Recently, Bill had started using a new fertiliser, so he had his workers hose the carrots down to remove any trace of it.

  Once cleaned, the carrots were put in boxes and driven to a storage unit that Bill rented in town. From there, they were shown to their potential owners, a wide range of shop owners and supermarket managers. One particular carrot in box number 7G was squeezed by a large man in a white apron. It was decided between Bill and the white-aproned man, that box 7G containing 60 carrots would be sold for 8 pounds. The carrot and its friends in box 7G had made Bill a profit and were now being driven to a small shop where they were emptied into a display case in the window. After being lined up in rows, the carrots had a sign attached to them. It exclaimed, “Improve your eyesight for only 27p per carrot”.

  The carrot and 7 others were purchased 3 hours later for 2.16 pounds and placed in a paper bag. In their paper bag, they were put in a car boot and driven to the destination of their demise. After reading a book for a few minutes, the carrots’ new owner began placing ingredients into a pan. About 11 minutes later, the carrots were shredded and tightly rolled along with some tuna and avocado into a sheet of nori seaweed by a bamboo roller.

  Some time later, a key could be heard in the door and a female voice could be heard saying, “What a nice surprise! What have you cooked me?”

  “California sushi rolls,” a man replied.

  A little bit later, the carrots, snug inside the rolls, were placed in the centre of a table and a candle was lit.

  “Mmmm, this is really nice. Can I taste carrot?” a female voice said appreciatively.

  “Of course…”

  4

  “You can tell a lot about a fellow's character by his way of eating jellybeans.”

  Ronald Reagan

  Things at Shure Stock were approaching meltdown as its bubble of liquidity neared popping size. After a frantic early morning call from the accounts department to the chairman-of-the-board, action had to be taken. The conversation concerned the whereabouts of large quantities of the company’s cash and where it had disappeared to over the last 4 days. The chairman immediately froze all the accounts and went in search of the only person who could possibly shed any light on the mysterious disappearances, a person whose name, after extensive searching through the company books, kept cropping up – Richard Lehman. After finding his corner office locked and after listening for several minutes to strange garbled ramblings from inside, he decided it would be best to have a chat to some of Richard’s colleagues. All he found in the gleaming corridors of the 21st floor were rumours, whisperings and several very tall tales of crates of carrots being delivered in the dead of night. Taking a sip from the water cooler, the chairman pulled himself together and decided that the situation required a meeting.

  *

  Richard’s fiancée gazed at her hand absently, half listening to the lady painting her fingernails a deep shade of red, the other half wondering who was ringing her phone again. She had only been in the nail bar for about an hour and her phone hadn’t stopped vibrating. The little handbag it lived in moved slowly across the counter with every fresh buzz.

  “You can get that now,” the lady said chirpily, looking up from her work, clearly annoyed at the handbag’s strange dance. “I’m done.”

  Richard’s fiancée thanked her and tried to unzip the bag. “Sorry, could you open that for me?” She waved her wet fingernails at the lady who carefully placed the phone in her hand. 32 missed calls. It buzzed again.

  “Hello…Yes…Why?...It can’t be that urgent?...Ok then.”

  Richard’s fiancée didn’t have to wait long before a car arrived outside and she was whisked away into the uptown traffic. With few words of explanation, she arrived at Shure Stock and was taken quickly into the boardroom. She was politely seated at the head of a gigantic, very shiny table, surrounded by very worried looking middle-aged men. Getting worried herself, she tried to interrupt their excited chatter.

  “What’s going on? Is Richard okay?” she asked, and was ignored. One of the men who had slightly more of an air of importance about him than the others banged his empty coffee mug on the shiny table.

  “Right then, down to the matter in hand. We all know why we are here. But do you?” he said loudly looking directly at Richard’s fiancée.

  “No.” She frowned.

  “Really,” he said making the “e” a full octave higher than the remaining letters. “How’s Richard been recently?”

  “I know he has been acting a little differently,” she replied defensively.

  “Differently,” the man spluttered. “I would call that an understatement.” Noises of agreement sounded around the table and echoed off expensive wallpaper.

  “I don’t understand,” replied Richard’s fiancée.

  “I will explain it to you then.” He sighed. “Richard is 1 of the best stockbrokers in this firm. This means that he has access to all of our major accounts. In fact, he was the one who got us a lot of those accounts.”

  “That’s good then, isn’t it?”

  “Well… yes and no. How has Richard been acting at home lately?”

  “To tell you th
e truth, he has been obsessed with this new diet of his. He has been eating nothing but carrots.”

  “Don’t you find that a little odd?” asked the man, with a raised eyebrow.

  “He told me it would improve his eyesight. He has always had trouble with his eyesight you see,” she explained, blowing on a wet thumbnail.

  “His behaviour, I’m afraid to say, has been quite erratic of late. He has been telling his colleagues that he can see through walls.”

  “What? Are you being serious?”

  “I’ve never been more serious,” he replied sternly.

  “I want to see Richard,” she demanded.

  “The problem is greater than you think. You see, Richard has unrestricted access to the company bank account and in the last week or so he has transferred almost half of it to places unknown. He has told us that he knows exactly where it is and he believes that he is making lots of money.”

  “Well, perhaps he knows exactly what he is doing,” replied Richard’s fiancée looking more than a little shocked.

  “I really don’t think so… An ideal solution would have been to sack him but, unfortunately, with the amount of money Richard has transferred, the company will surely go bankrupt. We need you to help us.”

  “I don’t care about that! Just take me to see him.” She stood to her feet, glancing down at the mahogany, smeared rosy red where her hands had been.

  “Please sit down. This really is a lot more serious than I think you realise.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He could go to prison.” He watched as the words sank forcefully into her conscious thought, rearranging the world about her. Richard’s fiancée sat slowly back down.

  “We need you to find out where Richard has put all that money or get him to tell us. He won’t talk to any of us.”

  *

  While this meeting took place, Richard was staring at the wall in his office. Occasionally, he would point and yell out, “I can see you!”

  *

  Gordon had been working on the farm for over 3 weeks now. It had been a busy time with Bill pushing the workers to grow and harvest as many carrots as humanly possible. All Gordon had been doing every day was spraying carrot tops, under the watchful eyes of the Scientist. He was getting the impression that the Scientist was growing concerned with his ability, or motivation, to spray the carrot tops. After lunch, Gordon walked back to the hut as he did every day and was greeted by a column of black smoke emerging from behind the hut. He wandered curiously towards the smoke where he heard raised voices. Standing by a large fire were Bill and the Scientist, shouting at each other.

  “I’ve told you before, you lunatic, we need a permit to burn things. You could bring the fire marshals up to the farm.”

  “And I’ve told you before that if I don’t destroy this stuff before it oxidises then it could become explosive. Don’t you listen to anything I say?” The Scientist managed to shout all this before he started coughing violently.

  “Tell me first, that’s all I ask,” shouted Bill over the coughing. “That’s all I told you to do. Can’t you remember anything?” He offered the Scientist a bottle that he grabbed quickly and started swigging from until the coughing subsided. Bill took the bottle back.

  “Don’t drink too much. You know what happened last time.” Bill turned to walk away and saw Gordon. “What are you doing?”

  “Getting the sprayer,” Gordon replied.

  The Scientist disappeared briefly into the hut, returning with the spray bottle and gloves. He handed them to Gordon.

  “You’d better get a move on,” Bill said. They both began walking away from the hut in their separate directions until they heard a loud gurgling noise behind them. They turned to see the Scientist collapse head first onto the ground. Bill ran over to the convulsing mound of white lab coat. Ignoring the strange and disturbing noises from the still gurgling Scientist, Bill turned him over.

  “Shall I get an ambulance?” shouted Gordon nervously, ready to run up the hill to the house.

  “Bit late for that. I think he’s dead…” Gordon walked over to Bill and the Scientist’s limp body. The Scientist’s eyes were wide and his face was fixed into a terrified-looking mask. “…He hasn’t got a pulse.”

  “Why is he making them noises…if he’s dead?” replied Gordon. They listened for several moments to a series of gurgling, popping and wheezing sounds.

  “I’m not a doctor. Perhaps it’s normal?” Bill said matter-of-factly.

  “What do we do now? Shall I go and fetch someone?”

  “No need for that. Go and get a couple of spades from the shed.”

  “What for?” asked Gordon, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

  “To bury him with.”

  “You’re that sure he’s definitely dead?”

  “Look at him.”

  “Won’t someone wonder where he is?”

  “He don’t have any family, or friends for that matter. Nobody even knows he’s here and I’m not forking out for a funeral.”

  *

  At Richard’s house things had taken a turn for the worse. His fiancée had been trying to get him to leave his office all morning. He hadn’t let her into his office for nearly a week now. He’d had some builders around the previous week and they had installed a security system with several large locks on his office door. He had taken to sleeping in there, only coming out at night when his fiancée had gone to bed. She was deeply concerned for him. So, in the early hours of the morning, she had reluctantly placed a call to the local psychiatric hospital.

  “Richard, it’s me. Can you hear me?” she called through the office door.

  “I can see you,” came the shrill response.

  “There are some people coming to see you.”

  “I don’t want to see them.”

  “I can’t help you if you don’t come out of the office and talk to me. Then we…” The doorbell rang followed by a loud knocking on the door.

  “No, not them,” screamed Richard.

  Richard’s fiancée opened the front door to a small balding man in a grey suit with powerful round glasses that made his eyes look enormous. On each side of him was a giant man in a white lab coat and, behind them, a 4th man with a blowtorch and a bag of tools.

  “Hello, miss. I’m the doctor from Dullstand Psychiatric Hospital. I’ve brought the locksmith as you requested. Where is the patient?” The small man stood at the door blinking through his thick glasses.

  “He’s upstairs. I’ll show you.” She led the doctor upstairs to the imposing office door. “You’re not going to hurt him, are you?” she added nervously.

  “No, no, no. We’re here to help him…but it would be best if you waited downstairs.”

  “Okay.”

  Richard’s fiancée walked down the stairs and sat on the bottom step. Upstairs, banging and the unmistakeable roar of a blowtorch could be heard over Richard’s incessant shouting. After about 10 minutes, muffled shouting and heavy footsteps were apparent.

  “We’re coming down,” shouted the doctor. “Clear the way!”

  Richard’s fiancée opened the front door and held it open.

  “Is he out yet?” came a quiet voice from behind her. She jumped and quickly looked around; it was 1 of the men from Richard’s work. She recognised him from the meeting.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “I’m looking after the interests of Shure Stock.” Before she could quiz him any further, Richard was man-handled down the stairs.

  “I can see you all perfectly well. I can see you all,” he kept repeating as they brought him into the garden.

  “Where’s our money, you idiot?” shouted the man from Richard’s office.

  Richard’s fiancée started to cry.

  “I can see it,” shouted Richard. “All you need to do is look,” and he pointed into the distance towards a thin column of black smoke. “Look.”

  Several hours later, Richard’
s fiancée was opening her second bottle of wine. After deciding she had drunk enough courage she walked upstairs and opened Richard’s office door. Inside, it smelt earthy with a sweet hint of mashed carrot. It was remarkably tidy with crates of carrots lining the far wall. Underneath the desk was a duvet and pillows. On top, were 3 cookbooks and a blender containing what looked like orange milkshake. She walked to the crates of carrots and pulled them over. 100s of carrots spilled out over her feet. She picked 1 up and threw it at the window, then the blender, then the cookbooks, then more carrots.

  *

  The next morning, Gordon walked up the long road to the farm with his colleagues, all full after a hearty breakfast. As they neared the gate where Bill normally stood looking at his watch, whispers went round the crowd: “Where’s Bill?”, “He’s not there”, “Do you think something’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” said Gordon to the nearest worker.

  “Bill’s not at the gate. He’s always at the gate. Something’s not right,” he explained with a worried look on his face. As they all reached the gate, the foreman walked through and, after looking around for a while, he turned to face the crowd of workers.

  “All right you lot, settle down. We know what jobs are for today so let’s just get on with it. I will speak to Bill later. We’re in Field 2 today. Let’s move.” The crowd of workers obediently followed the foreman, grumbling all the way.

  Gordon wandered slowly down the hill towards the former Scientist’s hut thinking he would be in for the easiest day’s work of his life but, as he approached, he noticed smoke rising from the chimney of the hut. After overhearing muffled swearing from inside, he knocked quietly on the door.