Taking the silence as permission to continue, Patrick said, “I only want to help because like it or not you’re helping us…”
“More the not-like-it bit,” David said half-heartedly. “OK, all ears.”
“And I think there is some good in you.”
“Lesson one: never speak about my wife as if she is a sexy commodity to be objectified. Or I’ll rip your loins out.”
You can try, David thought defensively and flexed his fists.
More softly, Patrick continued, “She’s my partner, my friend, and the love of my life. A centering gem of my reality. Beautiful outside and inside. Learn to see true beauty, David, and you’ll begin to see that the entire person—the human, with all its blemishes—is the most beautiful thing ever created by God.”
“God is not a certainty,” David said in a low tone. “Agree to fight about it later.”
“Tara is the greatest thing, other than himself, that the Creator has given me. Lesson two: dump some cold ice on your boyhood, and stop thinking with it when you’re around Gayle. She’s a princess and a precious human being.”
At the dumb look on David’s face, Patrick stopped. David said, “Yes, I know what a princess is. Don’t look at me like I am brainless.”
The foreigner pointed at David’s head, then at his heart. “You need to get it into your thick, dumb skull that you could never of your own merit or wallet deserve or own anyone.”
The young men looked down the hall as Gayle, who must have backtracked when she realized David was not behind them, popped her blond head around the corner and waved at David to follow. “No time for fraternizing. The banquet is beginning!”
“Coming, one moment,” he replied.
Patrick whispered, “You are so far away from winning her heart that it hurts me to watch. If you want to truly possess a pearl, then you must earn it, give everything for it.” There was anger in his voice at an unidentified injustice. “What have they taught you in this world of Xchange?”
He thinks I am some sort of product defect. “Look, I’m not a wounded animal. Xchange teaches us reality as it is. Not some fairy-tale way of thinking like in your country.” Heat rose with his defensive words.
“No time to discuss politics. What you are doing is not working. Try my advice one night.”
David listened. It is true that I am making no headway.
Patrick, with the tone of a couch, said, “Start by thinking of her instead of your dick when you are talking to her, thinking about her, or even making choices that affect her.” Patrick rubbed his hands along his dark, close-cropped scalp and then rested both hands on his temples; they waved charismatically for effect. “Every time you are tempted to commoditize her, repeat in your mind: ‘Not mine, I don’t deserve her, and she’s beautiful inside and out.’ Just that. Over and over again.” He nudged David toward Gayle, releasing his vice grip on David’s arm. “You can do it.”
David looked back thoughtfully at the stranger. “How can I do it? It’s crazy talk?” He paused. “Oddly enough, your sexy partner”—at the warning in the stranger’s eyes, he quickly adjusted his description—”I mean wife! She preached a similar method of relating.”
“Smile and listen. Make her feel beautiful.”
“Easier said than done.”
“Remove ‘own her’ and ‘sexy’ from your mental vocabulary. Those aren’t her virtues. Change the way you speak to and look at her.” He paused. “A wise man once told me that the way we speak becomes the lens through which we think and hence see the world. Your eyes should spend the evening above her neckline.”
David scoffed. “I am not a paid actor.” Why does this Patrick think we can behave like we are free doings? Foolish hopefulness. I should stop humoring him. But then he realized the man was actually serious.
“Practice looking at her eyes and nowhere else. Maybe one day you’ll learn why it helps. I can’t teach you everything in just one night. Remember the phrase.”
She is not mine, I don’t deserve her, and she is beautiful inside and out.
Gayle’s melodious voice from down the hallway broke up the discussion. “David, are you coming to dinner with Donk and me?”
“Coming, Gayle.” He looked at Patrick, and he knew intrinsically that something about the man’s method and words made sense. He wasn’t trying to play him for a fool. David had observed how ‘in love’ his wife had been. This man was loved, desired, and respected. No one cared for David like that. I want acceptance. “OK, one night. I will try. Thanks for the feedback. I shall test your theory out.” In a flash of unusual kindness, he added, “I hope we find your wife. She missed you.”
With that awkwardness finished, he moved down the welcoming hallway after his partners in crime. He rounded the corner and caught up with the Mindmonk in his golden robes and Gayle in her resplendent blue gown. Blue was David’s favorite color.
“Sorry, I was just giving some practical protocol instructions to Patrick. By the way, what is a donk? You keep saying that.”
“A donk is a man in a ridiculous outfit.”
“Oh, come on, Gayle. She named me Donk because I am a Mindmonk.” It was all very kind and playful between the two. “Something to do with being a monk and a doctor. Hahaha.”
“Donk. Hmm. I like it.”
“You’re not allowed to call me that. So, as I was saying about our beautiful companion…” The golden-robed man looked at Gayle. “Darling, you’ll be sending many of the men who behold you into my office for counseling sessions. Isn’t she too radiant?”
“Oh yes. Stunning.” David smiled, pulling his gaze to her eyes.
“David should never be allowed into a relationship with you. Nnect should have known better. Something bad is bound to come of a plebian like him trying to date a gem like you.”
“You are too kind.” She giggled. “Both of you stop. It’s just nice to be out of Thrive. Even if this is all just a dream.
“When did you become such an expert on women, Donk?” David was jealous of the easy manner he had with everyone around him.
“Donk has a crush on our Miss Alejandra. I would bet freedoms on it,” Gayle teased.
“Don’t be ridiculous—that’s nothing. We are contentious intellectuals locked in endless theoretical debates over human behavior and professional corporate human resources policy. Nothing more.” But he smiled despite himself.
“Lie at work, lie on commercials, but shame on you for lying to yourself.” David repeated a common saying.
Gayle said, as the group turned another corner and came face-to-face with a majestic doorway of gold and silver, glowed with a holy light, “It feels nice to be hidden from Thrive and the eyes of the public for this brief if somewhat unconventional break. I’ve been on edge the last couple of weeks with all the pressure at work and David’s rudeness.”
“It was mutual…” He stopped and let her finish.
“It feels good to be bad for a good cause finally. Quite exhilarating.” Gayle’s teeth gleamed white behind full red lips as she opened her mouth into a full smile. It lightened the room and lifted some weight from David’s anxious heart.
Two gray-clad and somber employees opened the shiny banquet room door and stood at attention on either side. Seeing their gray uniforms reminded David of their plight. “You two, stop the nonsensical banter. We need to remember that we’re in peril. It’s serious. I could lose my job.”
“Your job. Try maybe your life. I hope you realize that you can live without your job.” Gayle looked disappointed in his direction. He wasn’t quite sure why.
Doc Gus mused to himself, “I’ve been observing these human-beings from Tri-Coalition. They seem to live without being owned, and they’re still progressing as a society. They focus on living and not working. I know that seems strange. So counterproductive.”
With this, they passed the doors. “We might as well seize the moments that life throws at us and enjoy them. The stock knows Xchange has sucked enough of my life out
of me,” Gayle said. “David, you don’t feel the excitement of risking everything for something worthwhile?”
He looked at her scrupulously. “I admit my moral compass is topsy-turvy. I never imagined in my darkest nightmares that such a plight as this would be possible. Not to someone like me. Not in a million quarters. Ever.” That is an understatement, he thought with self-pity, making him want to vomit. It’s not fair that I should be an outcast from the society I dedicated my life to. All because of those damned conspiring managers. Rage simmered in his being at the thought of Grandpa Greg and the others.
The three stood under the golden archway with a gray and interwoven silver symbol of Orns—dueling wolves—carved into the entranceway. Their mood changed from seriousness to wonder as they observed the ornate decorations and extravagance. “Let’s see what they have for us tonight,” he said with growing excitement.
Gayle grabbed David’s arm to mimic the other elite couples that entered from doors surrounding the banquet hall. “You’re the escort, it seems.”
“Indeed.” He smiled. This felt like a real date. He stared for a moment at his beautiful companion. He avoided the usual places he looked and instead stared at her smile. She smiled back. That was a first.
Doc Gus stiffened his back in the presence of the dignitaries all around them, looking somehow more regal. He fit into high-class society when he wanted to. Gayle was also a natural. Snotty glares from other couples made David feel out of place.
The meal, which marked the beginning of the event, flew by in a blur of tasty cocktails decorated with colorful fruit and sumptuous dishes of simmering meats and buttery vegetables. At one point David sat back in his floating chair and exclaimed, “By my stats this is off the charts.”
“The stock charts are not that fascinating.”
“Well. Speak for yourself, Gayle.” He leaned back farther, sniffing the wonderful aromas of the food as they wafted all around them. “Not just market charts; this evening is off every comparative chart in Xchange. You name it. This is divine.”
Doc Gus chimed in in a delighted tone, “Food like this will send you to an early grave. Butter, salt, and spices! Certainly off every fitness planning chart I’ve ever seen.”
Gayle added, rubbing her full belly. “Off in the bottom direction, Donk.”
“Agreed.” The monk pointed down to the floor and then slashed across his throat with his thumb.
“Weeks in the physical training facilities, recovering,” David agreed.
“I say it’s worth every bit.” Gayle smiled. “Pass that chocolate cream thing.”
Halfway through the meal, the entertainment began, interrupting the group’s delighted comments as they enjoyed the delectable flavors. The band playing smooth jazzy tunes disappeared from the stage, replaced by a riveting video presentation. A series of short movies came on to entertain the enthralled tour guests. Four words flashed on the screen one after the other, the titles of short 3D videos.
“Imagination,” “Beauty,” “Desire,” “Thrill.” Music filled the room, intensifying the experience, and the lights dimmed in the banquet hall. Only candles flickered on the tables. The guests’ faces were thrown into deep shadow.
“Imagination: the heart and soul of entertainment,” an ethereal voice announced. The video featured Medieval Storyworld; it displayed a land for the viewers and for the participants and showed the appealing images of people living, loving, and laughing in the world that David knew so well. Heart-wrenching, dramatic scenes of daring adventures, fierce battles, passionate lovers, and hopeful discovery filled the screens. Men, women, and children, some of whom David had been following since his internship days, intermingled in the video. “History retold and relived in the greatest story tale by Orns.”
“Oh yes, it is,” David whispered.
“You’re too much, David.” Gayle rolled her eyes.
“Release your ‘imagination,’ Gayle.”
The narrator of the video said, “At Orns, we tell stories the way they really are, as they unfold. Not edits or shortcuts or acting lessons. Stories are the building blocks of our lives. Imagination is the mortar. These lives in the Storyworld bubble inspire, guide, and lead human-doings into an imaginative future.”
The high-class crowd of prospective investors, about twenty in total, each seated with their respective groups, cheered and clapped. David joined in. “I want to invest in Medieval Storyworld,” he told his companions.
Once more the ethereal voice spoke, filling the room with power. “Beauty”: videos of mountains, oceans, men, women, and buildings of ecstatic beauty passed one after the other over the screen. The voice narrated over the background music and drew the diners into its entrancing sequence. David’s heart leaped and lurched in his chest as his inner self connected with this idea, a grasping search for beauty. David looked at Gayle and noted that her face lit up with a peaceful glow when watching the film.
He recalled what Patrick had said: She is not mine, I don’t deserve her, and she is beautiful inside and out. He watched her lips and long lashes. Her head tilted a bit to the left, and her long, fair neck filled him with desire. His eyes began to wander up and down her form, but he arrested his eyes and forced his gaze up to her face. A person? he thought. What is the difference between a “being” and a “person” and a “doing”? According to Patrick and Paul, she’s more than Xchange preached.
Gayle hummed along softly with the music from the presentation. Gentle, powerful music was not something tattooed employees had access to. This was “free people” music. She hummed along and closed her eyes. Her sapphire dress clung to her and shimmered in the candlelight.
Doc Gus nudged the enraptured Nnectonian’s freckled arm and whispered, “Isn’t she amazing?” David knew she was. She was more than he deserved. She was more beautiful than the scene in front of them of crystal-white peaks with an orange globe rising behind sheer mountains.
The voice declared, “Beauty stimulates a sensation of desire, surrender, and peace. Goodness physically embodied for our…” It continued; David zoned out again. He realized that he saw this goodness and beauty in Gayle. Patrick’s insinuation rang in his mind: Relationships are not about possession.
A light tap on David’s shoulder. David turned to see Doc Gus holding a yellowish cocktail that had a lime and flower perched lazily on a crystal flute. Doc Gus nodded toward Gayle. “I’ve never seen that look on your face before. It’s like you’re looking past her and into her soul. You OK, employee?”
Heartfelt for a moment, David responded, “Doc, thanks for sticking with me during this experience. Things are changing in my mind. Something deep within me stirs, and it’s not just about her. It’s about all of this.” He opened his hands, as to take it all. “This horrible adventure, the new people, and the headaches from different ways of thinking.” His brand was oddly quiet. He whispered, careful not to let listening ears overhear, “Also, I am ashamed to admit, but my brand isn’t prompting me as much as it used to.” He scratched the tattoo, his fingers playing over the scars from the dog bite. “Is it broken? All these new emotions are confusing and uncomfortable.”
The monk gazed thoughtfully and waved a hand outward. “About the Orns investments or about your plight?”
“All of Xchange, Doc. My life, my career. These human beings and much more. All of it.”
“Observe, counsel, and record.” The monk and David blessed themselves with the sign of the X. “Mark my words. This’ll be an interesting adventure no matter the outcome. Worldviews aside, have you decided to tell her? Talk to her? I think whatever you’re now starting to feel is a place her mind has already begun to explore. Maybe you should try to connect.”
“Nnect is to connect. Right, Doc? I mean, I’ve spent my whole life connecting, haven’t I? It’s what I was born to do…Owned to be about doing.”
“Not talking about a PPRE connection or an Orns connection.”
David admitted, “I sure feel ill prepared.”
>
The second video ended to a roar of applause. Waiters rushed out and offered the guests more ostentatious drinks and mouthwatering desserts piled high upon silver trays. The colors of the dishes delighted the eyes: red strawberries, blue icings, green cookies, purple fudge, and on and on. David swiped a steaming bowl that smelled of cinnamon and apple to sip on.
“Desire: the nudge of our deepest needs and wants.” A relationship video began to show products that Orns offered, from those that catered to the imagination to the physical relationships.
“Thrill: the rush of being alive. The courage to harness life on the edge and push each moment to its extreme.” Videos of the Battle Games and Adrenaline Junkie series played on the screen. Popular heroes from both shows came onto the screen and spoke about the rush of being alive. Close-up action scenes of air surfing and bloody battles surged upon the viewer’s senses. Overwhelming and thrilling scenes of high-speed chases and near deaths exploded all over in a rapid sequence.
At one point a brandless Self-Purchased woman in a shimmering gold dress stood up and screamed encouragement to the video screen when a daring air-surfing couple plummeted in a brilliant aerial display of skill and insanity. “I love you, surf twins! Jason, you’re the most handsome daredevil. Marry me, buy me, anything!”
“Does she even hear herself?” Gayle quipped.
“The surf twins are pretty marketable—cool.” David looked again at the screen. Yes, it was the twins from his gym. He was impressed by the twins. This was an exclusive viewing of their preliminary air-surfing runs prior to the start of the Orns Air Surf Championships. The twins whirled and flawlessly executed daredevil spins on their matching air surfboards.
And then the videos concluded. The hostess from their tour, Madam Alejandra, sauntered coolly out onto the stage, all eyes fixated on her. “And now for the finale of our evening! As we have shown, the basis of our offerings at Orns is rooted in the concepts of imagination, beauty, desire, and thrill.” She waved her arms skyward, and a flame shot high up behind her.
She continued, “We have a mantra here at Orns that guides our business and aims to bring us the highest level of customer satisfaction: the isms. So, isms, what are they? The guidelines for basic human need production.”
A Tale Of Doings Page 54