The first looks up from his clipboard to the single, active clock amongst a group that hangs on the wall and
replies, “That it is. Is everything in place? Have all the arrangements been made?”
“I’m still awaiting confirmation from the Watchers of
Subject Designate FD51732, but it should be a go.”
“He will be busy? For the whole hour?”
“He should.”
“Good,” says the first, placing the clipboard down on
the console. “And will tonight be a rerun?”
The second smirks and says, “Actually, I’ve done you
one better in that regard, but I’ll save that for a surprise.” When the second scowls in response, the first adds reassuringly, “I promise you will be pleasantly surprised.”
“I better be.” The first stands and stretches for a
moment, then takes his seat again. With a sigh, he pulls his chair up close to the console and says, “Switch to daytime
observation capabilities.”
The cramped room occupied by the two comes to life.
Images slowly begin to form on several of the monitors that hang above the console. The picture visible on the central screen remains fixed on a indescript bedroom, clothes strewn about on the floor, covers kicked to the foot of the bed, a figure sprawled atop it. A second clock on the wall awakens, followed shortly by a third. On each, the time differs.
“For how much longer will clock number six be dormant?”
the first asks.
The second types on the keyboard set in front of him into the console. “The Watchers of Subject Designate AH35120 say at least four cycles.”
“Excellent.” The first smiles and says with confidence,
“Today will be the day.”
“Yes. Today for sure.”
“On my mark, hold clock number one.” The first eyes the
clock intensely for a moment. “Mark!”
The second types on his keyboard. The clock stops. The
two watch it silently and wait.
* * * * * * * * * * *
You can’t help but still be tired. Your cat kept you up all night. It sat in your bedroom window until the wee hours of the morning, hissing at something on the other side, probably the neighbors’ tom. Who are you to stand in the way of love? You were
powerless. All you could do was grip the pillow a little tighter and pray for some rest.
Now you roll over and glance at your alarm clock. Almost immediately you spring up in bed. You have overslept by twenty minutes, the clock mercilessly informs you. There is no time to question why the alarm failed to go off. You have to hurry if you don’t want to be late to work.
As if the sight of the alarm clock weren’t enough to shock you out of your slumber, you are hit with a forceful blast of arctic water when you turn the shower on. You cower against the wall and turn the knob all the way to the left in a vain attempt for warmth, but it is to no avail. Forcing yourself back under the icy stream, the remnants of your fatigue are sent away with a jolt.
Dressed and ready in record time, you head for your car. Panic really hits you then, when you turn the key in the ignition and the car merely wheezes. You turn the key again and it coughs. A third time, and it roars to life, much to your relief.
* * * * * * * * * *
“What just happened?” the first cries in horror, rising
out of his chair.
The second stammers. “I don’t know, sir. I was assured
by the Watchers of Subject Designate DE49767 that the work would be shoddy and the wiring would still fail.” He picks up a phone receiver from its cradle on the console. “Shall I contact them to question them on the matter?”
“Later,” says the first. “Of more importance now is our
subject’s tardiness. Try to arrange an alternate form of
interference.”
The second frantically pounds away at the keyboard, while the first watches the images on the central screen. The locale on the monitor has changed to the plain interior of a compact car. The automobile is cruising down the road quickly until it suddenly comes up behind another vehicle, a luxury car moving at a much slower pace. The driver of the compact car curses quietly and steps off the gas.
The first looks down at the second and pats him on the
back. “Nice save.” The second smiles. “Don’t let it go to your head,” the first reprimands as he reclaims his seat. “Prepare to switch to the P.O.V. cam at the workplace.”
* * * * * * * * * *
You glance at the clock as you come into the main doors at work. Miraculously you are only seventeen minutes late. You start to relax again as you hurry to your desk.
Along the way you catch the gaze of your supervisor. He scowls at you disapprovingly. You shrug to him as an apology and take your seat.
When you try to turn your computer on, nothing happens. You try again. Still nothing. Your thumb violently presses the button repeatedly before you give up and ask the nearest co-worker for assistance, feeling incompetent and ashamed.
“Oh, that,” he says nonchalantly when you present him with your dilemma. “None of them are on-line today. The special advising team is here trying to rid us of the Y2K bug, so we have to use the hard copies we have stored on file.”
Your co-worker starts to walk away but stops and turns to you again. He pulls in close to you and begins speaking to you in hushed tones. “The boss was pretty upset with you this morning,” he tells you in confidence. “He said this was the third time this month that you’ve been late and that you better have a damn good reason why or there’d be hell to pay.”
You actually thank your co-worker for this horrible news as you reluctantly resign yourself to going into your supervisor’s office to apologize. When you enter, he eyes you
with scorn. You ingratiate yourself and offer up meek apologies, none of which he is willing to accept. You hang your head as he patronizes you, and during the lecture you promise on more than one occasion that it will never happen again. Finally he is satisfied and allows you to slink out the door, your tail between your legs but your job intact.
Your day goes downhill from there. At noon, you realize that your car keys are still in the ignition. You spend your entire lunch break seated atop your car, shivering in the breeze turned cold all of a sudden and waiting for the locksmith to show up. At the end of the hour, you return to work, unfed and wishing that you had worn something warmer. He finally shows up an hour and a half later and you have to drop what you are doing to take him to your car. You pay him twenty dollars for two seconds’ worth of work.
This does not help you to get back onto your supervisor’s good side. Nor does the personal call you receive shortly after that, which he intercepts. It is from the jeweler who is repairing your watch. He tells you that when he opened it up to replace the second hand, the winding knob broke off. You will know have to pay ten dollars more and wait until Monday to pick it up. You sigh and accept what he says, for there is nothing else to do.
Right before you are to go home, a customer calls you, irate. He claims you have overcharged him for his recent order. You place him on hold while you try to dig up a hard copy of his file. When you return, you assure him that the billing was correct and that the shipping department actually were the ones in error. You tell him they did not send him what he ordered. He tells you angrily that he received what he ordered. You explain
to him as calmly as you can that he must have also made a mistake with the order. He hangs up on you.
On your way out the door, late, your boss stops you to remind you of several office policies. Tired, you graciously thank him for his patience with you and leave. On your way home, another driver recklessly cuts you off and you have to slam on the brakes. You want to honk and scream and cuss at him, but you are afraid he is armed. Instead, you merely shake your fist in the air.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Wonderful!” the first says gleefully, analyzing some
charts. “Today will surely be the day!”
The second asks with interest, “What is the prognosis?”
“The statistics show a clear rise in our subject’s blood pressure during the course of the day. Also, production of hormones in the brain has been a virtual roller-coaster. See!” He holds the graphs out to the second.
“Amazing!” the second says in awe. “Today for sure!”
The first excitedly looks at the central screen. “Back
to the task at hand. We’re not there just yet. Switch back to home P.O.V. at your discretion.”
The image on the central screen fades from the car’s
interior and is replaced by the pictures from a smaller monitor to its left.
* * * * * * * * * *
Your cat meows to you incessantly for food. You forage through the cabinets but find nothing. You are tired and do not feel like going out again, so you find some leftover ham in the back of the fridge and give the cat that instead. You will have to go out on your lunch break tomorrow, but not now.
Now you turn on the television. Now it is time for your favorite program.
It has been pre-empted by a sporting event of some sort.
You decide to go to the grocery store after all. You need toilet paper anyway.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Brilliant,” the first says. “Some days, you truly
surprise me, my boy.”
“Today for sure,” the second replied.
* * * * * * * * * *
You stand in the checkout dejectedly, your last ten dollar bill in your hand. You had hoped to be able to treat yourself to a movie this weekend, but it doesn’t look very likely now. Unless you can get off work in time tomorrow to cash your check, you will be broke all weekend long.
Behind you in line stands a young couple. The woman seems about four months pregnant, but that is merely a guess on your part. They have a cartload full of food.
You stand alone with a basket containing a six-pack of toilet paper and two cans of Fancy Feast. For some reason you are sad.
When you finally get home again, you are exhausted. You place the plastic grocery bag on the counter and head to bed. Your clothes end up in piles on the floor. You are asleep before you hit the mattress.
And you dream. You dream that little private dream that you secretly harbor about a better life. And you smile, sleeping.
* * * * * * * * * *
“Dammit!” the first cries. “I was sure it would be today.”
The second tries to comfort him. “I’ve got a wrong number arranged to occur in half an hour. It won’t last long.” The first sits in his chair in silence. “I’ve also worked with the Watchers of Subject Designate XT65005 to assure that the clocks will be de-synchronized. That check will not be cashed.”
The first still says nothing. “Perhaps we could appeal
to the Head Watchers, try to get a Tragedy allocated to our
subject,” the second says hopefully.
The first says blandly, “Perhaps.”
“Come, come, now,” the second prods. “You have a report
to file.” The first sits up and begins to perfunctorily go about his work.
“Switching back to night observation,” says the first.
All but a few of the screens go dark, and only one clock remains active. He speaks in a monotone voice into a microphone mounted on the console. “Report on Day Number 7865 of Subject Designate EF93892 . . . .”
“Don’t worry,” the second interrupts. “Tomorrow for
sure.”
