The Birth of Dystopia

by A. Q. Moser

  “Guys, Billy wants to show us something,” May shouted out from inside.

  Despite remaining at the bottom of the stairwell, Wolfgang looked my way. “I guess we go in.” Nonchalant as can be, he motioned a low hand wave for me to proceed first. He would follow but I was his shield and thus take all the brunt.

  I obliged and eased inwards to the fortress of misdirection. We were misdirected because we were our own adversaries—not necessarily to ourselves but undeniably to each other. May had her self-guided agenda, and Wolfgang and Billy were like two pit bulls unable to back down. I expected the worse.

  Billy and May stood by the bar stand conveniently located by the entrance foyer. A drink in hand and both were brimming from head to toe.

  “Hey Joel,” Billy greeted me with excitement—maybe for show. “Wolfgang, good to see you too.” The second time was with less enthusiasm.

  “Hello Billy,” Wolfgang acknowledged drearily, standing uncomfortably by the front doors with his arms crossed.

  “Great, everyone is here.” Billy raised his glass, chugged down what was left in it and returned it to the bar. Then he rubbed his hands together and offered an arm for May to loop onto too. “Let’s do it.” His eyebrows rose high on his forehead

  May locked her arm on Billy’s. “Are we staying here?” She needed clarification to the meeting location.

  “Of course not,” Billy agreed humorously. “We’re all goink to the kitchen. This way, please.”

  27

  Billy led us straight ahead, past the door that led to the basement all the way to the end of the hallway to an elaborately designed kitchen. Shining chrome pots hung on hooks and matching oversized oven, refrigerator, dishwasher—two of each kind. Everything reflected an image. A room prepared with pop cans and beer bottles stuffed in an ice bath in the kitchen sink and a spread of crisp potato chips and colourful marshmallow squares centred on a mahogany kitchen table. A modest feast of junk food set out with care, something a proper host would do.

  “Wow, Billy.” May unlocked her arm with Billy. She was so impressed and surprised, she stepped back nearly stepping on my toes.

  Billy waited for Wolfgang to enter the kitchen and behold his hospitality. “I thought meetings would go smoother over some food and drinks. Plus you can’t go wrong with ice cold beer.” He smiled humbly.

  Was Billy on medication? He was definitely not acting his usual self. It was out of character to prepare this peace offering. I had my doubts that he did this on his own initiative. Maybe his maid this?

  “You did this?” Wolfgang took the words right out of my mouth, arms crossed suspicious to the feast.

  Billy directed our attention to the kitchen table. “How about we sit down and talk like civil human beings?” He retrieved a few cans of pop and beer and placed them on the table. Rational and calm, he was acting like someone who was trying to make amends to a past ill.

  Surprised, one by one, we arranged ourselves around the table, thankful with the new surroundings and possibly with each other. Feeling comforted by the prepared food, I placed my torn jacket across the chair. I had the urge to munch on potato chips since my level of my apprehension decreased. I felt at ease with the situation and prepared to listen and discuss the matter at hand. May dove for the chocolate marshmallow squares that were cut to mouthful portions. I reached a few times for the sour cream potato chips while washing it down with a cream soda drink. Wolfgang respectfully helped himself to a few potato chips before leaning back in his chair. He was here for business with his serious demeanour.

  Billy sat between May and me and rested his elbows on the table. “I want to explain my actions. I am a man of action. I’d rather do than talk. I have no time to waste. Yesterday, we went in the wrong direction and I took it personally. My bad.” He glanced over at Wolfgang seeking sympathy. “Not a wise thing to do considerink the circumstances. Let’s decide a course of action.” He clapped his hands together.

  Wolfgang squirmed in his seat. “So what do we do now?”

  “I think we should all go see the psychic and then go from there?” May firmly proposed, reaffirming her plan.

  I patiently waited for someone else to say something before adding my comments. I wanted to lay low unbeknownst to suspicions.

  “Psychics are always trying to recruit suckers,” Wolfgang dismissed, scratching his beard. “I don’t want to be one of them. Why not just go yourself?”

  “Why are you so pessimistic? Have you ever been to one?” May demanded to know more to understand Wolfgang’s hesitation. “She could help us.”

  “Maybe we should try the psychic out and then we’ll see what else happens after.” I followed through with the secret arrangement set forth by May.

  “You are going to make a fool of yourself. Period.” Wolfgang continued his objection, unwavering to May’s attempt of persuasion.

  Billy sat there silently with downcast eyes.

  “Billy, what are you thinking about?” May asked, looking for the majority in order to convert the misled heathen.

  Billy shrugged his shoulders and gazed at May. “I’ll visit this psychic under one condition.”

  May perked up in her seat. Her devious plan worked, numbers meant people were forced to participate. Majority rules despite the protests.

  “If for any reason I see any problems, we split immediately,” Billy advised as if calling for the decision-making role.

  “What exactly are you referring to?” May curiously asked, almost agreeing to Billy’s demand prior to hearing his reasoning behind it.

  “I said if you guys wanna do somethink with this psychic than the terms must be mine,” Billy stated with his trademark ink sound replacing the ing sound. “Only then will I be willink to see May’s friend.”

  “Aerial’s not my friend,” May retorted. “For the record, I attended a few of her séances and she seemed to get things right before they happened. She provided me a list of future events for physical proof, so I’ll know when the events came true.”

  List? May never mentioned that before. “What things came true off the list?” I asked curious about how this psychic worked.

  “Here’s one thing, she gave a list of names of people whom I was investigating at the time,” May recalled, expecting to impress us.

  “Eureka. So this is how you got your inside scoops. So much for journalistic skills,” Wolfgang harshly judged.

  “That’s not true,” May defended, fearful of its connotations. “I get results because I work hard. I know how to be at the right place at the right time. On occasion, a little outside help is appreciated. I think that Aerial can help us. If you are afraid of trying it then say so please.” She leaned forward in her chair looking in Wolfgang’s direction. “I’m willing to give Billy the final say here, and I’m willing to allow Billy to make the judgement call for visiting Aerial. By the way, the psychic’s name is Aerial, if I haven’t mentioned already.”

  “A majority vote or anything else by that matter doesn’t mean the right thing is going to be executed. You go without me,” Wolfgang retorted, unpersuaded by any pleas.

  “Listen to me, we have to stick together. We can’t go around doing our own thing. Life doesn’t work that way.” May looked flustered at continuously trying to make her point. “Remember your promise to me before we got here?” she indicated the earlier compromise between staying together.

  Pensive, Wolfgang scratched his beard, realizing he had been cornered. He made a promise to stick together and thus needed to fall into place. Billy looked around unsure what was going on.

  “What harm can come of this? Let’s try it and see.” I suggested, seeking a middle ground.

  “Hey, if I don’t like it, we’re outta there.” Billy drove his index finger down, striking the table—a signal indicating his acceptance of the position of supremacy at the table.

  “Great,” May acknowledged. “We go as a group.”

  “I’ll wait outside then.” Wolfgang continued with hi
s dissatisfaction, despite the peer pressure. “I find this trip a step backwards in terms of time and resources.”

  “If these resources are important to you, then I shall pay for any expenses you should incur. As for time, we can discuss more ideas in the car ride.” May sarcastically offered as compensation, anticipating further excuses but settling for none.

  “Money doesn’t mean anything to me,” Wolfgang asserted. He crossed his arms as if withdrawing from the conversation.

  May smiled back politely and then winked at me. I was impressed by her work at convincing even the most sceptical. Battles were won one person at a time, but the war required numbers. As close as it may have seemed by finally agreeing on some course of action, we were far from any truth. Could this restart the floundering group moral? On the one hand Billy did not want to travel outside in the public and on the other Wolfgang refused to see any non-scientific person. We were a band of travelers with nowhere to go. We were no further than where we started. Could anything good come from us? Anything positive? I felt caged up unable to move about, but at least I was not alone.

  “We still need some hard evidence,” I reaffirmed our shortcoming.

  “True, but that will come in time,” May promised without any doubt.

  “What?” Billy looked confused, but he was not the only one.

  “In all my experiences, there’s always something or someone out there who knows something or somebody. All we need to do is press forward as much as we can.” May expressed her lifelong motto with the conviction of a fresh university graduate in search of an awaiting job. “We just need to try.”

  Billy snuffed loudly as if hiding a rude remark. Wolfgang rubbed both his eyes with his hands. The signals were obvious but nobody wanted to say anything. Trying anything did not mean progress. We had nothing so far, no evidence, no leads, just a blank sheet of paper.

  “So let’s go then.” May anticipated us to jump to our feet and get a move on, eager to meet the psychic and hear the boundless words of wisdom she had to bestow.

  “I’m hungry,” Billy announced, out of the blue. “Let’s eat some real food.” He scurried over to a large oven and opened it.

  The unleashed wave of a delicious aroma of melted mozzarella and sizzling pepperoni left me seeking more than just plain potato chips. “Good idea.” I crunched forward hoping my stomach would not grumble too loud for anyone to hear.

  May perked up from her seat anticipating the meal. “Wow, the pizza smells fantastic,” she proclaimed her winning perseverance. She smiled and then curled one hand around another over her lap. “I’m so happy we’re back on track,” she whispered to me, satisfied by the acceptance of her psychic visit.

  Billy slid pizza tray onto the kitchen table pushing aside the bowl of potato chips and ran a pizza cutter across to section off slices. Steam rose out of every corner he cut.

  Wolfgang shrugged his shoulders while tilting his head to the right. He looked bored and out of his league, unmoved by any pleasing food scents. He, instead, crossed his arms and stared back with a stern face. Silent to the end.

  May turned to Wolfgang. “I think Aerial can help us. No … she will help us. Trust me.”

  Wolfgang shrugged again, pondering a thought or two. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just that this is a terrible approach to such a big problem,” he concluded. “We can’t just go around asking questions to a random person especially one who makes an income based on the misery of the weak minded.”

  “She helped me numerous times. Trust me she’s good.” May attempted to instil her confidence in Aerial onto Wolfgang.

  “Sorry, but I don’t think we can reach an agreement here. I’ll just have to see it for myself.” Wolfgang wanted closure and signed off.

  “Fine. So you’re coming inside to meet Aerial,” May complied.

  Wolfgang looked away from the table, tired about the whole conversation to begin with.

  And so we sat silently. We watched and waited for Billy to finish slicing the mouth-watering pizza. “Eat up.”

  I smiled in anticipation, and my stomach seconded the motion.

  May rubbed her hands together. “I’m starving.”

  Billy snatched the two largest, adjacent slices. He folded the pepperoni slices over each other and tore into them like a ravenous lion would its prey. Billy’s cheeks were bubbling out with the portion he stuffed in his mouth. I rose to my feet eager to pry a slice in the middle of the tray, one overflowing with lots of mozzarella. May grabbed two slices following a similar process as Billy but was less conspicuous about the portion of the slices. Wolfgang avoided the feeding frenzy. He waited for everyone to take their food and then grabbed a small slice from the same side as Billy and loaded it on to a serviette.

  The feast of brave champions was underway. What a progression of sorts, first we started out talking and then fighting and finally were eating together in a civil manner. Somehow we were meant to be together. A bond was emerging and we were pressing on. Food, a basic need, united us. I glanced over at Billy who by now had started a second double serving.

  “After this we’ll go see the psychic?” May reminded us of our agreed course of action.

  Everyone nodded while concentrating heavily on gorging on what our next move would be.

  Abandoning my pop can I reached for an ice-cold beer from the ice mound. Billy, with one hand busy holding his double-sliced pizza, served a beer for May. Avoiding the alcohol, Wolfgang drank a carbonated drink. A few slices each and we were on the verge of a celebration of sorts for food and drink meant smiles all around.

  Billy tapped my beer bottle with his. “Cheers,” he mumbled, spewing some beer foam from the side of his mouth.

  I tipped my glass ever so slightly to acknowledge Billy’s salute. I felt happy at how we merged together, like a puzzle piece finding its neighbours without a hefty search of the pile. It was the common need that fused us together; a search for what made us have the same nightmares at the same time.

  Just as quickly as Billy made the cheer, he downed his drink—in a single gulp almost. “Sweet.” He smiled devilishly.

  On the table remained half a pizza and plenty of marshmallow squares and potato chips. I looked back at Billy and pointed to them as what to do with the leftovers.

  “It’s for the crew.” Billy nodded, supposing I would understand what he was getting at.

  “Crew?” May repeated, not catching on.

  “My guys have to eat too,” Billy explained, visibly rolling partially chewed food in his mouth.

  “Why is someone else coming?” Wolfgang asked.

  “For protection,” Billy noted. “We aren’t goink to do this alone. It’s just in case.”

  May’s face turned flush, realizing body guards were coming along. “Billy, please promise me they won’t hurt Aerial.”

  “If she acts up, I’m goink to have the situation taken care of,” Billy surmised seriously. “We can’t trust outsiders remember.” He nodded prepared to get a dirty job done. “Don’t worry, I recycle too.”

  I was taken aback by Billy’s comments. Was there a double meaning, maybe? Murder and body disposal? I was not one to advocate violence but if our lives were in danger, then maybe this was the best course of action. He had the money and possibly the means for such action. I did not mind the extra protection especially since we did not know what we were up against. We needed to be extra careful of whom we dealt with and where we went as anybody could turn against us.

  “Billy, please.” May objected, frustrated she reacted by throwing her hands straight down her sides.

  Wolfgang appeared pleased by Billy’s contingency plan but made no comment. He was on the same wavelength as him and seemed to approve of force if necessary.

  By the kitchen entrance, two enormous men decked out in black from head to toe. One of the men was Reyton; he was the guy whom drove me home after the concert. The other man was a larger guy with similar facial features to Reyton. One could easily sw
ear they were related if not brothers.

  “Extra protection is always better.” Billy pointed to his oversized guards. “Dig in guys.” He pointed to the leftover pizza.

  “Hi guys,” May saluted the hungry boys.

  The larger twin nodded unimpressed while Reyton shock May’s hand. The two large men then moved towards the pizza tray, unperturbed by the seated guests but motivated by the whiff of melted mozzarella. They made a double pizza sandwich by folding four slices onto each other. The sloppily crafted panzarottis covered a third of their massive hands. The sandwiches disappeared in less time than it would take Billy to finish his alcoholic beverage. And the process repeated itself until all the leftover was gone.

  “Hungry?” May asked the twins. Realizing that the conversation was one sided she turned to Billy. “Do we really need them? I mean we’ll be fine without them. I highly doubt anything bad will happen?” she pleaded, almost frustrated with the security matter.

  “If they don’t go, I don’t go,” Billy challenged with a strict celebrity code. “They won’t do anythink unless I say so. So it’s all safe. Trust me?” he explained it in his own nonsensical way.

  May had to address the situation but needed us to huddle away from hearing distance. She called us in by waving her hands in the air and we shuttled over to the kitchen sink, putting an insignificant distance between the twins and us. We all packed near the sink as detectives would upon seeing a murdered body.

  “I don’t think they will be needed. They kind of stick out and could draw extra attention to us,” May whispered, distraught at Billy’s ultimatum.

  Billy looked up to the ceiling, eyes glazed over as if in a heavenly trance. “Holy naggink! Fine,” he screamed in defiance.

  Everyone in the kitchen, including the twins, froze unsure how to react to the screaming.

  “Maybe the guards can be too intimidatink. They can stay here.” Billy returned to his earthly roots. “You fine with that?” He looked to May hoping to appease her.