FPhishing

Written in response to: Set your story during the night shift.... view prompt

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Inspirational Contemporary Fiction

Do you believe yourself to be responsible?

How ‘bout accountable?

What’s the difference? Right?! Words are words, and we’ve all heard them before, either at work or maybe in a movie, or even in a self-help book. So, yeah, they’re familiar to you, and, yes, you are both responsible and accountable. You’re a fully developed social being. You are the pinnacle of genetic evolution.

You’re a human.

You wiped your own ass and you buy your own fast-food. Do your own laundry and pay your own taxes. You fit in with the responsible adult crowd. When you wake up, you go to school or to work, it’s what you’re supposed to do. That’s responsibility right there for you, isn’t it?! What spells responsibility more than moral behavior. So what if you cheat on a test or run a red light from time to time, jail walk or take one too many cigarette breaks? You don’t smoke? Even better, that means you’re not even polluting the environment as much, so you’re entitled to those non-smoking breaks.

What about accountability? Of course, you’re accountable for your actions. If you break something, you pay for it and you tell the truth. You fess up, acknowledge your mistake and pay the piper.

Caught speeding? “Mr. Police officer… I’m guilty. No, there’s no emergency, I’m just bored with driving and I need to Netflix something.”

It’s easy. You got all the angles covered. So what was the point of going through the past hundred-so words on the topic?

Well, they did re-validate your values, didn’t they? See, you’re exceptional! You deserve a pat on the back. The classic standing ovation. Too tired from all the hard work? At least clap your hands. You can even do it one handed.

Come on… I’m not being sarcastic. Why would you say that? Just because it’s not completely true, it doesn’t mean it’s not true. Or, don’t tell me! You’re thinking about that old saying. How did it go? The absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence. Maybe you’re thinking responsibility and accountability are not limited to action, but also to thought and speech. That can’t be true. Is it?!

Could it be that, it’s not only about what we do, but it’s also about the why we do it. You might have a point there.

So, that old lady from the store that spoke gruffly to you. Yeah, that one. The one you gave a piece of your mind that she won’t easily forget. You’re saying that she didn’t deserve it? It was obvious from her demeanor that she was simply down on her luck, pulling at straws and unfortunate enough to remind you of that old chemistry teacher who used to pick on you because you reminded her of her ex-husband or her ex-husbands girlfriend. That sort of complicates this, doesn’t it?

Why do we need to complicate things?

But, wait! What about your boss, that can’t possibly be true? He’s still a prick. Only a prick can become a manager at twenty-five while you’ve been hauling ass for the past decade for the same company. OK, you’re right. You didn’t give it your all, it’s not like it’s your fault for ending up here in the first place, it’s that chemistry teacher’s fault. That and many others.

How did we get here again? We were talking about accountability.

You know what? Let me tell you a story, it’s about a drinking buddy of mine, Duncan.

Duncan is… how should I call it… he’s the king of his one horse town. Everyone knows Duncan, a perfect B student, athletic, charming, classic chip on his shoulder. He didn’t make it far, but he made it big. How big? Didn’t I just tell you that everyone knows Duncan? Need someone that knows what’s what to shed some light on something? Ask, Duncan. He won’t understand what you’re talking about. That won’t stop him. Duncan’s smart. He’ll understand half of it and give you two pieces of advice.

That’s not possible? Well, if Duncan wasn’t all that and a bag of chips, then why does Jessie love him? Yeah, Jessie, sensual, vibrant Jessie. Auburn hair like a chestnut leaf in the fall, eyes as dark as the darkest wishes she elicits the moment her skin sheds her silky fragrance as she says hello and squeezes your hand. Her lips the color of jeweled fire, bristling with delight, as she wraps around her perfect white teeth. Stunning, delightful…

Hmm, never mind. So, as I was saying, Jessie’s loved Duncan since high school. Do you know why? Because that girl knows class when she sees it. She’s loved him so much that she even bore him a wonderful daughter, Emma. Emma’s a ray of sunshine and when Duncan finally gets money for that ring, Emma’s going to be the most beautiful bridesmaid there ever was.

What? What do you mean “cliche”? I’m just talking out of my ass? In that case, my friend, maybe you should pay more attention to the world you live in.

As I was saying, before your ego burst. Duncan’s been busting his ass working hard to get Jessie that ring she deserves.

And when I get it, I’m going to go the whole nine yards. I’ll bring Derek around, so he can film us, buy one of those cakes from Denny’s that she loves so much. I’ll even get her flowers. Everything she needs.

I want to make sure she knows how much I love her and understands how much I’ve worked for it.

No more bickering about all these late night shifts, no more arguments. No more… We’ll just be one big happy family. Just me and her… and Emma.

The night was cool beyond the two-by-two Plexiglas booth that was his home six days a week.

And to think of all the shit she gave me before heading out tonight. Sometimes, it feels like she doesn’t even appreciate what I’m trying to do for her, for us.

He felt very comfortable in there, despite the Lilliputian design of the place. It was never meant to feel comfortable. Its intent had been to keep the occupant alert, yet somehow Duncan felt relaxed in there. Relaxed and at peace.

His friend Derek had found him the job, and he took to it like a duck to water. In the end, what could be so hard about being a night watchman at a parking garage? You came to work; you do a couple of rounds to see that there aren’t any kids hanging around; you drink a pot of coffee; you eat a sandwich; you smoke a reefer to take the edge off from that third cup of coffee; you get the munchies so you eat your second sandwich; you do another round; you read a book; you watch some TV; you finish your shift and you cash in that paycheck at the end of the week.

Double what that idiot Harry’s making on the day shift. He wants to spend more time with his wife. Like I’m not? Jessie’s all over my case, from the moment I walk in thorough those doors, until the moment I leave. “Take out the trash. We need to do some shopping. Emma’s outgrown her clothes. Raccoons dug another hole under the porch. We need to paint the room. We need to get another car…”

We need… We need… We need…. It’s never: I need. What do you need, Duncan? Love of my life. Dear husband to be. Would you like some breakfast? Would you like to sleep a bit before I chew your ear off?

No! It’s always: we need, we need, Emma needs. If we need so much, why don’t you get a job? If we need so much, why did we have Emma in the first place? Before it was always: “It’s going to be the three of us against the world.” and now it’s the two of them against me.

Fuck!

I love that kid. I made her. She’s my flesh and blood. Why am I thinking all this crap?

It’s going to be fine. We’ll get over this somehow. It’s just a phase.

It was close to midnight.

He’d have to do another round at midnight. He didn’t really understand the point of all those rounds. Nothing ever happened.

I don’t really understand the point of all these rounds. It’s not like anything ever happens.

Yeah, Duncan. That’s what I said.

The point of the rounds was that a woman got raped two years back while Gary, the security guard back then, was sleeping in his non-Plexiglas booth. Yeah, responsible, right? It’s not like they could’ve raped her after he had passed or anything. You’re saying that it doesn’t work that way? Yeah, well.

What? Fuck Gary for not doing his job? Well, you’re too late. Someone fucked Gary while he was on one of those rounds. Karma, right?

In any case, they had a whole system now, with call signs and checks and all the glam. It’s not like anyone would go after Duncan and his 6.2 height and and 220 pounds. But it made Jessie sleep easier.

I should light one up for the road. This is going to be a pretty boring night.

And that he did. Remember when I said that Duncan was king? Well, he grew his own pot. Not too much, just a couple of plants in the cellar. Enough to keep his nose clean if you get my drift.

I’ve been dying to test this out. My own sweet Sour Diesel. Let’s see how much you love your daddy.

The car park was seven stories tall and had two underground levels. Duncan signaled the beginning of the round by flipping a switch on his control panel. If thirty minutes from now, the switch wouldn’t be flipped back, an operator at the main security office would be messaged. The operator would try to get in touch with Duncan via wireless every two minutes from that point on. If, by the third attempt, Duncan still wouldn’t answer and give the all clear, they would send a security team to check on him.

Duncan locked the booth and made his way across the ground floor towards the ascending ramp at the far end. He would then turn left on the first floor and go up via the descending ramp across the floor towards the next level. He would criss-cross in this fashion until he reached the top of the building, making his way down to the second basement via the stairs, and then back towards the booth in the same ascending pattern.

All this should take him around twenty-five minutes.

He lit up his joint, puffed on it to make sure it burned nice and even checked his watch and started on his walk.

Pffff, now this is good dope. This is the best mix I’ve had so far.

A light waft of gasoline filled the already saturated air and made Duncan smack his lips in succession.

I need to work on the taste a bit, it’s pretty pungent.

By the time he hit the first ramp, he could already feel it taking effect. Milky thoughts were taking shape in his mind and cradling it softly.

I have to fix things with Jessie, for both our sakes. I just have to.

The night was cool, and it pushed him forward relentlessly. He did not struggle. He wanted to be swept away by the freedom of it, by the solitude of the park. With each inhalation, he felt the milkiness grow inside of him, lending depth and weight to his being. It reminded him of the time he went scuba diving with Jessie right after prom. The way the water felt all around him, filling itself with his being.

The feeling gained depth in his being, but it didn’t slow him down in the least. His steps came briskly and his eyes were sharp. A heaviness encompassed his senses and every sound, every sight, carried itself with an echo that made his brain stand at attention.

I can’t understand why we can’t go back to the way we used to be. It’s like she’s not the same person anymore. I don’t understand why!

I haven’t changed. Emma hasn’t changed me. Not like it did her. Sometimes it feels as if it’s my fault, everything that happened since we found out she’s pregnant. Everything that transpired after she gave birth to Emma. It all feels as if I’m no longer enough. Like I’m no longer good enough for her.

What does she want from me?

The echoes of his steps circled back on him, rebounding off the cement walls, turning back on themselves, as a light wave crashes down on the sand. They buried themselves deep in his chest and collapsed in his heart.

“Tap tap… tap tap…"

I haven’t changed. Why did she have to?

It’s her fault we’re in this situation. I told her we’re not ready to have a baby yet. I told her we’ll end up at each other’s throats. Like our folks did.

“Tap tap… tap tap…”

She said it wouldn’t matter. She said we wouldn’t be like them, and then?

I try. I do.

I no longer feel like it’s my home anymore, and still I try.

I want things to be better for us.

Does she think I enjoy spending every night like this? Away from my bed, away from her.?

Slowly, but surely, Duncan was crossing out one floor after another and found himself on top. He raised his eyes and took the view in for the first time in a long while.

The stars weren’t as numerous as they had been when he’d been young, but there were still a lot of them. Far too many to count.

How long has it been since I’ve stared up at these?

The milky feeling took hold of him, brushing the cobwebs away from his heart. He felt as if liquid gold was being poured into his veins as he stared into the void above, a sense of loss and emptiness somewhere in the background, ready to pounce on him and drive him to the ground. The gold was too thick, too viscous. It kept him full. Full of those little sparks in the night sky, small glimmers of hope.

I have to try. I need to make things better.

‘Duncan! Duncan, can you read me?’ a voice came over the wireless.

Shit!

‘Duncan here.’

‘You all right, buddy? You’ve missed your mark.’

He checked his watch. Thirty minutes past midnight.

‘Yeah, sorry about that. I found myself on the rooftop, looking at the stars.’

‘Told you, you should take it easy with that reefer on nights like these. I’m half expecting to find you reciting poetry back at me one of these nights.’

‘Ha, you’d wish. Heading back down now.’

‘Cool, I’ll hit you up in fifteen. I hope I won’t find you serenading the rats.’

‘Duncan over.’

Shit! At least I know it’s got a kick.

The stairway was to the right and middle of the floor. Duncan started towards it as soon as he closed the wireless. Somewhere half way he felt his hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He lifted his hand to feel his skin when he heard a soft giggle coming from behind one of the cars.

‘Hello!’ he said.

As soon as he closed his mouth, a pitter-patter was heard moving from one car to the next toward the stairs. He heard the giggling again.

What the fuck. Is that a child?

He started off moving from one car to the next, always one step behind the sounds.

‘Hello!’

The giggle followed suit again.

He caught a glimpse of a white dress and a tangle of hair the color of chestnut leaves in the fall as they moved through the gaping hole of the stairwell.

‘Emma?’

“tap tap, tap tap”

He could no longer feel the echo off the walls, but with each step, it felt as if he was stepping directly into his heart. Squeezing under his weight, a rush of blood sending his steps to a scurry, just so he wouldn’t crush it underneath his fears.

The giggle resounded again.

‘Emma? Is that you?’ he pleaded.

He caught her sight again and rushed down two steps at a time.

‘Hey, Duncan,’ the voice over the wireless came again. ‘Duncan, save us some of that stuff as well. It sounded like you were having a blast earlier.’

‘Mark, I can’t talk right now. There’s a child running around here. It looks like Emma.’

‘What? Duncan, are you sure you’re not tripping?’

He stared down from the second floor and saw the girl climb over the rails. The lights in the stairwell flickered quietly, steadily.

‘Duncan?’

He rushed down two more floors and saw the girl skipping from one bar to the next, a thin line tied to her waist, pulling her up and down, left and right, in a hypnotic juggle.

Duncan closed the few steps that separated them and just as he was about the catch the girl’s arm, she let go of the rail.

Propelled by inertia, one hand on the pillar to his right, he leaned over and grabbed Emma.

‘Daddy!’ she expelled, laughing.

What’s she doing here? EMMA! Hang in there, baby.

Looking down into the abyss, a set of eyes was staring back at him, a gnash of teeth as big as the abyss smirking back invitingly.

The line yanked…

‘Duncan… Duncan?’

Fuck, Duncan! Am I right? Overgrown man-child. What a waste of that poor Jessie, with her auburn hair and blood infused lips.

At least he was cool, with his homegrown dope and his slicked back hair.

Too bad he couldn’t own up to his shit.

Do you?

Peace.

September 03, 2021 22:11

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