Jaffle Inc

by Heide Goody

  I went to my bedroom window and looked. I’m not sure I’d ever looked out of it before. Obviously, I’d gazed in that general direction before. It was where the light came in. But I’d never properly looked. There wasn’t much to see. My room overlooked the central shaft which ran through the centre of the building. Above was a large square of sky. Across were the murky grey windows of other apartments. Several storeys below was the quadrangle at the heart of the ground floor. It was a square of mud and currently housed some sort of incinerator, pieces of wood and a number of rusting air conditioners.

  My world was grey, dull and enclosed and I had never noticed.

  I stepped into the kitchen area and looked at the very strange thing on top of the bean dispenser.

  “It’s cheese,” I said.

  “Chi-eeeese?”

  “Yes, I got it yesterday. It’s really nice, you should try some.”

  “It’s food?” asked Hattie, incredulous. “No, I don’t think so. It looks very peculiar.”

  I wasn’t ready to have the food discussion quite yet. “Never mind, Hattie. We can have beans. Listen, I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Yes?”

  “You know Levi?”

  “Security Levi at work?” said Hattie as she served up blue beans.

  “Mmm, him. Have you ever looked at his arms?”

  “He has arms,” said Hattie with conviction.

  “Yes, but looking at them … are they... are they quite muscular?”

  Hattie frowned, concentrating. “He always wears a jacket at work, it’s very hard to know. He probably needs to be strong to wrestle wrongdoers to the ground and suchlike.”

  “He probably does, yes,” I reflected, feeling a strange frisson at the thought of Levi wrestling me to the ground, although I couldn’t be sure why.

  “Beans,” said Hattie and handed me a bowl.

  She went through to watch Rise and Shine with Smiley. I stood for a moment, looking at the screen. It followed the usual format of people waking up and having slightly sad faces, but then being cheered by the sight of Smiley appearing with his huge, yellow, sunny face, beaming down upon them. After I had watched the same scene play out three different times I shook my head. How could it be that I had once found this so very entertaining? It was clearly idiotic. I was a smart person, my brain was used for some amazing tasks, and yet I’d been happy to let nonsense like this fill it during quiet moments. It was so confusing.

  I ate the beans, but found them dull. They were as dull to my taste buds as Smiley was now to my eyes. However, I was hungry, so I ploughed through them, but all the while I was thinking about the cheese and went back to the kitchen to sneak a bite of when Hattie wasn’t looking.

  My mind went from cheese to bacon, and I sighed, wondering whether there were other things that tasted so good. I would have to take care though, not least because I’d made myself sick yesterday by eating too many unfamiliar things. I knew how easily upset Hattie was, so I would try to be myself today. I would follow the normal routine and behave as we always did. Mostly I would anyway, just as soon as I’d got my mind straight.

  I still couldn’t shake the feelings that the dream-Levi had roused in me.

  “Hattie,” I said. “You know how men and women are different?”

  “Mm,” Hattie mumbled, her eyes not leaving the screen. “Different uniforms some of them. And they have different toilets in some old buildings.”

  “Right, yeah,” I said, searching for a way in to this conversation, “so the different toilet facilities. Why is that?”

  “Um, I think it’s because men are messier,” said Hattie.

  I paused. “Their bodies aren’t the same as ours.”

  “They have arms.”

  “What?”

  “They all have arms,” said Hattie. “You asked about Levi but I think all of them have arms.”

  “I know they have arms,” I said defensively.

  “Well, you asked. And they do.”

  “Yes, but apart from that they’re a different shape.”

  “Yes, I suppose,” said Hattie. “No boobs.”

  “Yes!” I said. “Yes. Those sorts of things. What other—”

  “—apart from Pedstone.”

  “What?” I was thrown.

  “Pedstone and Swanager,” said Hattie, and mimed a little jiggle to underline the point. “Both got boobs. He’s a man. She’s a woman.”

  I sighed. I wasn’t really sure what conversation I wanted to have about the difference between men and women, but this wasn’t it.

  And I had other things to worry about. Like Helberg’s office. Had I really stormed into his office? And smashed his screen? And his shelves? I wished, I hoped that explosive episode was imaginary, as unreal as the blue whale which kept swimming in and out of Rufus Jaffle’s memory.

  “I need to pop downstairs,” I told Hattie.

  Hattie nodded, still transfixed by Smiley. I went down to see Helberg. On the way, I passed the many doors, all the same colour. I shook my head at yet another example of horrible drabness which was imposed upon us all.

  Helberg’s broken screen sat on the floor outside the complex manager’s office. I touched it for a second and jipped it with my Jaffle Port. It wasn’t a piece of Jaffle Tech and it wasn’t equipped with the same security measures. Also, the man was lazy; lazy enough to think no one would be capable of breaking into his data. I stepped into the office. Helberg was repositioning a brand new screen on his still dented desk.

  “Come to apologise, have we?” he said with a mock sweetness.

  “No,” I said.

  “To offer to pay for the damages caused?”

  “No.”

  “Because you had quite a temper on your last night. Quite out of character, dear tenant, if I may say. One might even suspect there’s an imbalance in your system.”

  “You don’t know what you talking about,” I said.

  “And neither do you,” he replied. “The things you were spouting. Baseless accusations. Slander, that’s what they call it.”

  I pointed back at the door, at the screen that sat outside. “I copied your files.”

  He looked at me sharply, his false cheer vanished. “Data theft? Your list of crimes is racking up.”

  “They weren’t even protected,” I said. “I just walked by and – pop! – I copied them. All of them. You’ve kept a detailed account of all the people you’ve fraudulently overcharged, often for services they were never provided with in the first place.”

  “Now, you listen here, miss,” he said, pointing a finger.

  I smiled. “I’m listening, Helberg. Patrick.” I looked at him and waited.

  His twitching mouth faltered. His pointing finger wilted. “You’ve got to understand…” he said. “Some people. Circumstances get the better of them. They’ve … they’ve got no one but themselves to blame, you see?”

  “But there is someone to blame,” I said and smiled again. For the first time, I understood that not all smiles were meant to be nice. “You, Helberg. You are to blame. You will be held accountable.”

  “By you?” he said.

  I nodded. “You’re going to make things better. Maybe you don’t know how to do that, but it doesn’t matter, because I am going to tell you. Understand?”

  He attempted a smile but it was no match for mine.

  “Because even if you didn’t do it directly, you have undermined these people. You took their money. You messed up their homes and their lives. You and I are going to fix things. Whatever it takes, we’re going to make things better.”

  “Hey,” he said. “I’m not the bad guy here. I’m not being selfish. I’m just after a slice of the easy life. I’m just a piece of grit in the system.”

  “You’re a piece of something.”

  “If people can be exploited then it’s someone’s duty to exploit them, to show where the weaknesses lie. There is a natural order in the world. There are those of us who are intelligent eno
ugh to make the world to our liking. The brains of society’s body. And somewhere down there, underneath it all are the people – human toenails – who exist only to be used. If bad things happen to people, then they’ve probably got it coming.”

  “Oh, good. Then I should just send these files to the authorities.” I tapped my head. “I’ve even labelled them to be sent off in the event of an emergency.”

  I saw him blanch and knew that my remark had hit home. “I’d rather you didn’t do that,” he said simply.

  “Well, as long as we understand each other, we can get straight to work,” I said. “First of all, you’re going to give me back my money.”

  He scowled but nodded.

  “You can give me some more as well. I can see that sorting your mess out might be an expensive thing to do.”

  I jipped a request for payment over to him. He pulled a face but authorised the payment. Again, like his screen, his Jaffle Port technology didn’t respond like proper Jaffle Tech. The signature looked different, which was odd.

  “Right,” I said. “You’re going to find somewhere better for Swanager and Pedstone to live.”

  “How will I do that?”

  “You’ll think of something. Then, for your second task, you’re going to make it easier for everyone to find their own front door.”

  “What?”

  “They all look exactly the same, and it’s confusing and annoying. Now before I go, I have a question.” I pulled up a chair to face him. “When there are colourful plants growing, what is that called?”

  He rolled his eyes and there was a trace of the old smirk. “Do you mean a garden?”

  I tilted my head and gave him a look; and I mean a look. “Do you want me to redecorate your office again?” I asked.

  A fervent headshake.

  “So, it’s a garden.” I turned to the whiteboard on the wall. I picked up a pen and wrote New place for S and P at the top, followed by doors and bacon and finally garden.

  “Good. We will talk later about how you’re going to make gardens happen.”

  ***

  Chapter 1

  I was quite relieved to get to work. I looked forward to some thinking time on my own. In spite of my efforts to appear normal, Hattie kept giving me funny looks, as if I might be ill. It hadn’t helped when I had broken down in tears again at the sight of the Empties. Hattie didn’t see them at all. I thought better of trying to point out the hideous reality of them living in a society which took thinking power away from its citizens and left them as hollow shells. Instead I just pretended I’d got something in my eye. Hattie had been distracted by the good news that I had enough money to pay for the car to take us on our regular pay-per-metre journey to work, so we arrived on time.

  There was a small group of people standing in the centre of the reception area. I realised with horror that at its core was the woman, Claire, she of the bright clothes that didn’t cover enough of her body, she of the defecating dog, she of the house which I had invaded, ransacked and violated. Claire was angrily brandishing my discarded tunic and shouting about an invasion of her privacy. There was a civil law enforcement officer there, and of course Levi.

  I lurched in shock, nearly colliding with Hattie.

  “You all right?” said Hattie.

  “I think I’m going to be sick,” I muttered.

  “Did you touch the chi-eeese?”

  I mentally pulled myself together. “Look, the elevator’s about to go. Hurry.”

  “We’ve got loads of time,” protested Hattie looking back over her shoulder. “Hey. Was that the woman that made me—” she pulled a face “—pick up the dog poop?”

  “Not sure,” I said, and quickly pressed the elevator button. “Best to stay well out her way in future though, don’t you think?”

  “I hope we didn’t dispose of her dog’s poo incorrectly,” fretted Hattie.

  I hurried Hattie from the elevator to our work stations and sought the sanctuary of my own cubicle, my own familiar little mouse hole. I worried briefly that some sort of alert would be triggered by the system when I started work, that some background system would note something different in my brain state. It wasn’t and I was soon back in the usual routine.

  The usual routine should have been comforting but I found myself continually looking round and finding things which must have always been there, but I’d simply never noticed before.

  One of my colleagues had smelly feet and had taken their shoes off. The smell was strong enough for me to wish I’d brought Claire’s perfume with me, but that was safely hidden back at the apartment. I sniffed my arm and could smell the slightest ghost of its fragrance, which made me smile.

  I also noted that the entire department was lacking in colour. Nearly everything was a very pale green colour, but not an interesting, bright green like plants. It was a green that really wanted to be grey, as if all of the fun had been sucked out of it.

  Then there was the sound all around me. The call centre was carefully designed so operatives didn’t disturb each other, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t hear my colleagues if I listened carefully, tuning into some of the conversations. I could hear the tapping of feet and the squeaking of chairs. I was surrounded by dozens of intriguing noises, all of which told their own fascinating story.

  I had changed. My life had changed. Every moment I had experienced was different now. And there was no denying that something had happened in Rufus Jaffle’s office which had caused that change, that difference.

  I needed to work out what it was; speak to someone who would understand and offer clear guidance.

  I needed to speak to Rufus Jaffle again.

  I forced myself to take enough calls to be high on the leader board, so that I could give myself a few minutes to step away from my workstation and put a call through to Rufus Jaffle via the company switchboard.

  “Rufus Jaffle’s office,” said a female voice.

  “Could I please speak to Jaffle?” I asked.

  “I’m afraid he’s not available, could I take a message?”

  “Oh. Right. It’s very important that I talk to Jaffle. It’s Alice, the technician who helped him out yesterday.”

  “Rufus Jaffle wasn’t in the office yesterday.”

  “But I—”

  “You must be mistaken. Sorry.”

  I began to protest, then I realised what was happening. The effort to be discreet was overriding everything here. The entire clean-up operation had been hush-hush; no one was going to acknowledge that Rufus Jaffle had infected his brain with a virus and therefore no one was going to acknowledge it had required my help to clear it. The secretary wasn’t going to be of any assistance to me.

  “Right, thank you. Goodbye.”

  As I walked back to my cubicle I gave the matter some thought. If I couldn’t get past the secretary then I’d have to think of some other way to see Jaffle. I had questions that only he could answer.

  Levi was waiting next to my cubicle, hands on hips. I noticed the way that he stood. It was fascinating that men even stood in a different way to women. I couldn’t imagine that I might ever stand like that. Legs apart, hands on hips, ready for… Ready for what? I wasn’t sure, but I felt sudden heat in my cheeks, and I swallowed hard.

  “Hello Levi,” I said.

  He raised his eyebrows. Along with that little moustache they create a frame for his face, the punctuation to his facial expressions. I wondered what they felt like. Were they soft and silky or coarse and bristly? I watched his lips, waiting for him to speak, absorbed by their curves, and wondering why they interested me so much and what beautiful words he was about to utter.

  “Bathroom break?” he said.

  Okay, they weren’t particularly beautiful words.

  “Pardon?” I said.

  “It was a simple question, was it not?”

  I frowned. The new warm fuzzy feelings I had developed for Levi since my dream of the night before came crashing up against the hard and unforgi
ving feelings I been building up about him for months.

  “Are you watching me?” I said. Part of me liked the idea of him watching me and part of me thought it was wrong and unpleasant and invasive. I dipped into my Jaffle Port literacy booster. Creepy. That was the word.

  “I watch everyone,” he said.

  “Well, I think I’d rather you didn’t.”

  Levi was amused by this. “Don’t get yourself all riled up, miss. Just doing my job. Eternal vigilance is the price of high quality security, not to mention health and safety, yabetcha.”

  “Yes, well, I was perfectly safe on my bathroom break. I always am,” I said, not so much angry at his behaviour as the smashing of my daydream version of Levi. Trying to recapture it before it left me completely, I looked at his arms, remembering how strong and muscular they were in my dreams.

  “Have you got hairs on your arms?” I asked.

  Levi looked shocked at the question. He looked for a moment as though he might be about to roll up his sleeves and have a look – the very prospect of it made me come over all uncomfortably warm - but then he thought better of it.

  “Well, I’m really not sure what that’s got to do with the price of tea in China, miss,” he replied.

  “No, I was just interested,” I said. I was about to add that I sometimes saw hairs sprouting through the gaps in his shirt, but I sensed Levi didn’t want to talk about his body hair. He turned on his heel and walked down the office.

  I watched him walk away. Irritating and nosy Levi. Levi with the strong muscly arms. Levi the heartless mouse-stomper. Levi with his little moustache.

  He wore a utility belt which carried all sorts of odd bulky items like a torch, a ring of keys and a set of handcuffs. If I ignored all of that, his hips were actually very slim, and I considered what shape he might be without any clothes on. He would be quite different to the shape that I was. Different but pleasing. I felt the heat creeping into my face again and wondered whether I was getting a cold. I certainly seemed to be running a temperature.