The Birth of Dystopia

by A. Q. Moser

  And no sooner that I was done I felt a bit peckish. I checked my fridge freezer and located a plastic container prepared by my caring mom. I warmed up the food and set to devour it all in one sitting—six mouth-watering meatballs in all.

  In an instant of high adrenaline to a heavy set feeling throughout my body, exhaustion was taking over. I was restless and tired at the same time. I was so happy to have reconciled with Marie. I just hoped May could reconcile the problem between Wolfgang and Billy.

  I washed the plastic container with lukewarm water and proceeded to the comfy couch in the living room. I stretched out wishing for a nap but knowing that sleep was difficult to engage even after a virtually sleepless night—this uncontrollable sleep habit.

  25

  “How’s the report going?” The lead scientist dropped by the Director’s office.

  “I spoke with the project sponsor. So far so good,” the Director updated his colleague.

  “Did you mention that one of the chosen ones is in the news for the wrong reasons.” the lead scientist asked.

  “Let’s focus on the positive. Our sponsor is impressed by the progress of our chosen ones.” The Director returned to working on completing the report on the project status.

  26

  The home telephone blared out.

  I sat up on the couch. “Hello.” I answered curiously, not checking the caller ID.

  “We’re all meeting today,” May shot forth with an air of content and urgency. She was charged a reward after by a long effort.

  “What? All of us? After all that happened? There’s no way we could all be in the same room again.” It was shocking to hear the news. Maybe this meeting was a road leading to disaster.

  “We’re doing this despite what happened last night,” May asserted her perseverance and dedication to a united front.

  I was confused how things could be worked out. “What about Billy and Wolfgang? How’s it possible?”

  “I have my ways.” I could hear May panting herself on her back for her patching-up relationship skills. “Remember I’m a journalist willing to do anything for a story. Wolfgang wants to do this more than Billy, not that Billy doesn’t care.” She paused expecting a remark from me.

  Although impressed, I was still confused as to how anybody could have brought together two opposite forces. There was no backing down on May’s part. Her heart was in the right place, she wanted to resolve a bad situation and push ahead.

  “I tried to get Billy’s side of the story of what sparked the disagreement with Wolfgang but he refused to say anything. I guess he believes nothing is off the record.” May covered her bases too—an attempt to get both sides of the argument. “All I can say is Billy agreed to remain calm, so all’s well.”

  I expected May to explain in detail how she mediated the situation but rather than dwell on it I was happy for what she accomplished. “I’m in for sure.” Four heads were better than one.

  “Great,” May cheered. “How was your day?” She changed to a calmer tone.

  “Fine,” I responded. “So what do we do now?” We needed an action item.

  “Listen, just follow my lead today. I want to see the psychic as a group. It all comes down to working together on at least one task and thus accomplish something rather than argue.” May’s proposal seemed fair enough.

  “Sure,” I agreed convinced that anything was worth a try.

  “This is how it’s going to work. I’ll propose going to the psychic and then you second the motion but don’t make it seem like we’ve rehearsed it before. Okay?” May delegated the course of action in a cunning inviting manner.

  “No problem. I can play that game. I’ll make it look good by being quiet about it at first and then voicing my agreement in a subtle way.” I would despise it if I were investigated by May. Her tenacity was a definite plus for our side. “Just tell me when and where we meet.”

  “We could meet at Billy’s place again if we want. Are you in?” May sounded unsure but was one who was always standing by—a trait of a proactive journalist.

  “Of course,” I replied, stumbling over my words because Billy offered to let Wolfgang back in his home. “What time?”

  “Aah, I don’t know exactly. Billy did say this morning was fine. Let me call him that you’re in and I’ll call you back. Ciao.” May rushed out and hung up.

  Like always I had to wait. The situation was in Billy’s hands, if we wanted to meet as a group it was to Billy to decide. It was unfair for someone to have so much control. We were all in this together.

  And so I sat on the couch, elbows resting on my knees and my head on my palms; I was in the thinking pose.

  Could we be linked telepathically or are we linking up to some sort of central system control? If we all had the same nightmares, then who was responsible? Who fed us these nightmares and why? Why to children? We all had our nightmares beginning as children. There must be a common thread.

  I felt better knowing one thing for sure I was not alone. I dealt with this for twenty years and just knowing that I was not alone was a saving milestone in itself. Connecting with people enabled me to appreciate myself. A reward to say the least as my circle of friends was very small. A unique accomplishment was one thing but a unique fear was an entire thing on its own.

  The home telephone rang.

  I reached for the telephone. “Hello.”

  “Yeah,” a lady smugly answered.

  “May, is that you?” I checked the caller ID.

  “Yeah,” May mumbled, her voice oddly unrecognizable.

  “What’s wrong?” I enquired not understanding why May sounded incoherent.

  May swallowed loudly. “I’m eating baby carrots.”

  “You’ve got a loud swallow,” I noted as an indication not to do it again.

  “Thanks. I guess that’s a bad thing.” May sounded like she found my reply to be curt. “Anyways, just got off the phone with Billy and he said we can meet right now. I just need to confirm with Wolfgang but I think it’s all good. Alright?”

  “Before you hang up, I was wondering since we’re going the same way did you want to share a cab to Billy’s place?” Billy’s mansion sounded like it was the new hang out had we been kids.

  “Sure.” May paused.

  “I’m at apartment seventy-five Navrina Road,” I reminded May of my address. I was content that I would not be alone on my journey.

  “Seventy-five Navrina Road, right. Be ready in about ten minutes. Ciao.” May hung up the telephone on me.

  “Ten minutes—” Was May in a rush? Was this how May got her way with people? By rushing them towards a hasty decision? If there was no time to think, yes was the answer—the kind of response to appease the asker.

  I needed to shower and ten minutes was not a lot of time. Did I have to meet her downstairs? Ten minutes, I needed to hurry.

  Complacent I scurried to the washroom and showered fast. Then I changed my underwear, jeans, t-shirt, jacket, and I was off with my wallet and keys.

  Rushing outside to the front curb of the building only to see May was not there. No cab waiting either just an elderly couple sitting on the front bench. In that moment by the entrance, we were both spectators staring onwards like a caged parrot at its captors.

  An orange cab pulled up to the driveway and swerved around with the back door right at my feet. May popped up from the window like a goldfish bubbling with excitement. The door swung out.

  “Let’s go,” May called out, ready and raring to go. She was a challenge for anyone to keep up with.

  I climbed into the back with her and the taxi sped off in the same rush-rush style exhibited by May. There was no glass barrier and the cab was older than anything I have ever seen before with the seat stuffing sticking out of the torn cushion seats and the large crack traversing across the back window.

  “Are we in a rush?” Everything was moving so fast and I was surprised.

  May smiled and clinched her fists in anticipation. “I
think this is the right move. We’re on the right track I can feel it.” She tensed up in high spirits. “Can you?”

  “Feel what?” May’s radiating energy was all I felt. Maybe she had too much coffee this morning?

  “We’re going to see the psychic today and I know she’ll help us. Shhh.” May grasped my arm ensuring I was quiet and attentive to her story. “This is it.”

  The taxi driver pretended not to listen, more concerned with the road ahead, but he was listening. He was openly perking his eyebrows every time May spoke.

  “That’s okay, I understand. You’ll feel it later. I just know it.” May was beyond excessive caffeine and over the top self-confidence.

  “Okay to what?” Who was May talking to?

  May released my arm. “You’ll see,”

  “Please explain,” I requested, not sure what to think.

  May knew something and was unconcerned by my confusion over the matter. She smiled, upper and lower teeth completely visible. She moved her purse from her lap to the space between us, fidgeting about in the seat the whole time. “Billy strongly wanted us to meet again at his place.” She ignored my appeal and went straight to business.

  “Why? So he can trash talk on home turf?” Billy never ceased to amaze me. He insisted and ordered however he saw fit, a total lack of regard to a team effort.

  Dressed in a plain cobalt blue turtle-neck sweater, May pulled it down as it crept up around the waist showing some skin. “In any case, at least we meet again.” She was content and nervous, all wrapped up into one. She could not sit still. She was always doing something with her hands, her eyes, and her words. She retrieved a hairbrush from her purse and brushed out the ends of her hair.

  I watched in perfect stillness. May did everything and I did nothing. What else could I do but go along for the ride—a spectator content to be present at a big game. This meeting was out of my hands and I accepted that.

  “I’ll pay,” May offered. She returned the hairbrush and checked her purse for cash. It provided her with a constructive exercise. Antsy would not cover the range of tensions she was exhibiting. She moved every part of her body from her tapping feet to her furrowing forehead. Was this a natural reaction or was caffeine involved?

  I accepted the offer and glanced ahead as we scooted by slower vehicles. The taxi driver attacked the road as a star striker attacked a net for a goal. Slower cars were equivalent to opposing players who were to be deked. In the backseat, we were tossed from side to side with every pass and yet not a single complaint from either one of us.

  We headed east, past the decrepit homes of lower and middle class workers to Upper Toronto, the progression to a life style of excess riches. Fewer potholes, fancier streetlights, and wider sidewalks.

  Passing by the unfriendly ten foot monster wall that separates the ordinary from the unwanted, the taxicab crawled up to the security booth leading to Billy’s neighbourhood. Once again its occupants, the border control, greeted us with an inspection annoyed by the irregular intrusion.

  The unchanging guard, there every time I came, approached the taxi car. “Name? Host?” The same questions.

  May lowered her window. “Two for Billy please. May Chao and Joel Taw.”

  The guard waved out his arm and graciously saluted as though he recognized May. We were through without a hitch.

  “I think they know me,” May contended with. “It’s my personality.”

  I chuckled. “Maybe?” I smiled on.

  “Nice security here,” the taxi driver expressed sarcastically, identical reaction as the previous drivers.

  “You gotta do what you gotta do,” May playfully replied without a care in the world. She leaned forward to the taxi driver. “On Residence Royal Park mansion number twenty. Fifth street on the right.”

  The quiet driver held his tongue and drove onwards until finally stopping at the right mansion, number twenty. We filed out standing before the monolith front gate currently open for guests.

  “Thanks. Ciao.” May tossed a few crumpled bills beside the driver and then smiled at me. She turned to me as we exited. “Was that rude to throw the money?”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Rude, maybe, but when you’re in a rush then—”

  May raised a hand to stop me. “Please. The cab was in total disrepair. He got what he deserved.” There was no time for chitchat and she was driven and serious about what needed to be done. “Ah, look.” She pointed to the open front gate.

  It was an inviting gesture and it made us regard Billy’s home on friendlier terms. The mansion was becoming very familiar and nothing would be better than to consider this as a second home. A room, even a small one, would be spectacular.

  “That’s rather homely of Billy,” May uttered.

  “Maybe we should just live here,” I played along.

  Beyond the gate, hunched over, an apron-wearing gardener tended to the flowery vegetation encircling the trees. The work for a single gardener was sure never to be finish as one could only imagine the vast scale of the backyard once seeing the scale of the front yard. Maybe I should request a tour of the backyard?

  “Can you imagine living this grandiose lifestyle?” May dreamed as a princess only could.

  “It would be interesting, but definitely with its own share of pitfalls.” Good and bad with everything, money never changed anything only added more problems.

  “Yes, the pitfall of a negative attitude.” May twirled and then headed along the driveway in the most delicate model strut—heal-toe combined with a wild hip swing.

  “It’s all yours. Take the spotlight.” Why would I stop someone from enjoying the simple things? That architect taxi driver from yesterday was on the ball about money being on opposite ends of true joy. Who really needed its delusional life?

  Trying to step around the reach of the motion camera by the gate, a burly, bearded man approached us. “Hello.” Wolfgang straightened up his sagging pants.

  “Good timing,” I answered.

  “Hey Wolfgang, looking good,” May complemented optimistically.

  “Actually I was waiting for the two of you to arrive before I dared to enter this place again. Promise me one thing?” Wolfgang looked around for anyone listening in.

  “Depends,” May said conditionally.

  “Sure,” I agreed to the promise, knowing this had to do with a factor called Billy.

  Wolfgang looked suspiciously at May. “We enter and leave together. Billy’s actions need to be kept in check for the good of us all. If we work together we can move forward.”

  “Sure, okay,” May obliged.

  Wolfgang grinned satisfied. “Thanks. I owe you both one”

  “I’ll remember that.” May nodded at the opportunity to use this granted favour.

  Wolfgang pretended not to be listening. His conditions were satisfied and that was what he was after. While May stormed ahead, he lingered behind, progressing a little slower, leaving me between a lethargic scientist and a hyper journalist—both content with where they were. Two opposite extremes set in their own right.

  Outside on the front porch of the three-story Georgian mansion, Billy watched over proudly fashioning a dark, tieless business suit open at the chest. With a drink in hand—a common sight—it was like the glass was permanently affixed by glue. Raising the cup hand in the air, he saluted our arrival—another familiar habit.

  May fixed her hair, tossing the ends backward allowing it to settle over her shoulders. “Hey Billy, look at me.” She covered her hips with her hands and was flaunting all she had.

  “Love it girl ‘cause you got it goink on.” Billy smiled at the girlish display.

  May strutted all the way to Billy’s side and delivered a teasing hip check. Twisting her chin towards her shoulder she showed off her shoulder bob for satisfaction and touched his nose for the gratitude.

  Billy worded a wow and took a sip of the drink.

  “Hey Billy,” I called out, not expecting any acknowledgement in return.r />
  “Joel, what’s up?” Billy’s eyes never left May’s side.

  Recognition was good even from a high profile rock star.

  “You up for a little drink, May?” Billy offered exclusively.

  May cringed at the offer. “Isn’t it a bit too early in the morning? Maybe not. Plus my stomach’s been bothering me. I’ll take a rain cheque.”

  “Wolfie’s here too.” Billy noted, using a childish nickname. “I’m gettink another drink.” He snuck inside.

  Not knowing what to do or where to go, I sat on the top step waiting as a loyal dog.

  “Wolfie?” May blushed at the nickname. “Do you think he would like that nickname?” She kicked me on my backside, trying to get my attention.

  “Hey, stop that.” Why the extra incentive for a response? Not something I would do.

  “Sorry,” May apologized, still blushing.

  I was not convinced by May’s lack of sincerity in her apology. “Probably not. Billy is just doing it to annoy him.”

  May waved at Wolfgang. “True, it’s the machismo thing to do. Boys will be boys.”

  Slow moving, Wolfgang waved back as he made his way to the bottom step of the porch and stopped as liberal as a dove in the open sky.

  “I’m so excited. I just know we’re on the right track.” May whispered while twirling like a ballerina, happy as can be.

  “I certainly hope so.” Could May convince Billy and Wolfgang to visit a psychic?

  May bowed down in front of me. “I know so.” And then twirled on the spot again. “I know so it must be right.”

  At least someone knew something. We were on the brink of falling apart as a group and the idea to have an excursion to a psychic could be our demise. The willpower was there to uncover the truth behind the nightmares but the lack of uniformity was missing. Wolfgang and Billy were not the type of people to easily submit to any crazy idea. We were drifting aimlessly unable to find a common thread. What to do next? Who was our enemy?

  “Billy,” May called out, venturing inside the mansion. “Billy.”

  Not a sound from anywhere and one would have easily thought that Billy abandoned the grounds.