//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: The Real World // by Hat //------------------------------// Bang! Bang! Bang! His eyelids were like dumbbells, but Huso was a fighter. With the picture coming into focus, he saw Dashie stirring on the other side of the bed. It was muggy, even with the recent ventilation improvements to the house. “Shouldn’t you answer that?” Dashie groaned. Closing his eyes one last time before the day began, he knew there would be no sleeping in. Kicking the tangled sheets away, he clawed himself off the bed. Then, rising from the floor like homo erectus, he pulled a deep breath through his body and launched into the morning checklist. Bang! Bang! Dashie had gone back to sleep. Changing his clothes right there, he decided he would use the bathroom at work. Startling Dashie, he fit her into his backpack. Checklist done. He left it a little unzipped so they could communicate. “This might get bumpy,” he said into the pack. Opening his front door, he dodged the fist that was to bash it. Like a football goalie, Mike, in his faded blue agency cap, was trying to prevent Huso from passing. Huso, looking with an alarmed expression towards his garden, distracted him for a second and slipped past. “You’re on your last legs, pal.” Huso was already twisting the key in the ignition. Mike’s car had blocked him in. “Little known fact for ya.” Huso was reversing over the lawn. “I was the star hitter in high school baseball!” Mike yelled. The car was zooming up the street. Dashie poked her head out from the back seat. “Who was that?” How does he expect me to pay, when all my bills are burnt? Huso wondered. By the time he exited the bathroom, having brushed his teeth and appearing sparkling for work, the office was in a chatty mood. Arriving at his desk, a paycheck was in his inbox a few days early. Not knowing what to think, a colleague pointed out to him a small group going around which seemed to have just finished congratulating the last employee. They were shaking his hands; actually, trying to leave. Huso looked towards his manager, separated by glass since yesterday, who was fidgeting with a wad of sticky notes almost uncontrollably. “Attention, please!” A senior manager was calling from the centre of the floor. “We’d like everyone to listen to this important announcement.” Amongst a hundred smiles, Huso felt the sea pulling out. Some individuals were dispersed around, touching employees to cease their activities and listen. “First off, we know there’s been some rumours going around.” The senior manager was holding his chin high, tightly pursing his lips. “Jenny’s been eating all the cheddar in the cafeteria. There were never any mice. Say sorry, Jenny.” A squeaked apology rang out from the far end. “Secondly, the company’s wrapping up. Closing down. Being put aside.” He struggled to keep the corners of his mouth from lifting. The room remaining silent, he went back to a scowl. “All accounts are being transferred to another subsidiary. We will be available for the remainder of the day to answer any questions anyone may have for whatever reason.” Huso’s empty stomach was shifting nauseously. Inhaling only weakly, a headache was creeping in. But he did not care for any of that. “Can I get paid for my vacation time that I didn’t take?” Someone asked. “Absolutely not. Any more questions?” Huso had not moved from where he was standing since the announcement. Why should he have? His desk was his place. Closing his eyes, he ran through what he had to do today. There were some accounts he was near closing. He thought of the names. He was going to get a new chair. A flying eraser pounded his cheek. Shooting his eyes open, his co-worker was trying to stifle a smile at the small misfortune; but this was made easy in a moment. Huso, towering and advancing unblinkingly, forced the man into a cower against a desk with no way out. Huso was shaking, the situation seemed familiar, and he could easily explode, harming the man. But he just stood there like a volcano, predicted to erupt yet with no discernible activity. He was no longer looking at the co-worker, who, after some time, had scrambled past him. The crimson tide was throbbing through his every organ, something preventing it from transmuting into action. Instead of bottling and inevitably bursting, it was ebbing, and although the pain was still severe Huso realised he never could have hurt the man, and felt like crying, for now even his anger was denied to him. There existed a rule where there had been none; a priority above all, of which no rationale could displace. In Huso’s sadness, where all happiness had forsaken him, still was he happier than he had been in years, for his tears were real. Wandering down to his car, he unlocked the door through the window he had left open. Placing his hands on the steering wheel, he sat looking out the windscreen at the garage. Eventually Dashie emerged from the backseat. They listened to the boom-gate raising and lowering. “Do you want to go outside?” She asked. “Yeah, okay.” Rustle. Clack. Thud. --- Having never been to the park at this hour, Huso observed its activities with interest. A teacher was herding some primary schoolers through, a large kid with a sash preventing them from straying. One thousand, six hundred and eighty dollars. I’ll spend it on a therapist. They were all wearing hats. Across, a family was training its dog, a Labrador. When it sat, they fed it a treat. A lake was glimmering behind them. How many weeks would that get me? Surely enough to be cured? “Let me down,” spoke the magical pony. Putting his backpack down, he unzipped it enough for a head to pop out. A bench was close-by, so he dragged the pack over and sat down. Looking at the rainbow mane of Dashie, who was witnessing the park’s happenings in innocent curiosity, Huso realised the moment would not last forever. This peaceful, birds-a-chirping moment would be a memory soon enough. From where would he be remembering? The usage of his final paycheck—his total savings as of this moment—would determine it. Sitting indifferently, however, Huso only felt like going to sleep. It could all work itself out. It could do that much for him, at least. Slowly wilting, one thing was preventing his rest. Peeking downwards out of his half-shut eyelids, he was barely willing to acknowledge it as a reality. Who would care for Dashie? By all accounts, she was definitely there. Are hallucinations this solid? Huso could see no difference in terms of existence between the park bench he was sitting on and the talking animal in his backpack. Don’t all crazy people think “I’m right”? A mother’s scream rang out from the family with the dog, and Huso turned to see an enraged Labrador bearing down towards Dashie. Huso leapt to the ground and covered her with his body, the father’s “look out!” unheeded. The impact of the hefty dog nearly toppling him, it came looking for a vulnerable point in his defence—the barking was splitting his ears. Just as the lavender-smelling mutt was managing to pry its snout through, it was pulled from behind by two large hands. Huso helped the father restrain it as a leash was threaded through its collar. A brief apology was issued, and they went away as quickly as they had come. Huso looked inside the bag for Dashie, who had popped her head in like a turtle. Placing his hand on her head and feeling the pulse, he nodded to himself. Mike’s puggy face came to mind. If Huso had no home, he could hardly try finding Dashie’s. He would need a loan, and by the end of the day too. Thankfully, there was one person who might give it—although he hated asking for so much from a friend.