by Kenneth Burch
I'd awakened from the awful sound of a buzzing phone alarm. That damn nearly made me deaf.
I reached over wanting to knock that damn thing on the floor, and thought about doing so before I realized that it was bolted to the desk.
I sat up and answered it, wiping the sleep from a hard night from my eyes. The voice on the other end was that landlord from 10 flights down, fucking bastard
woke me up to demand his rent. I told him to chill out, that I was going to pay him today and was about to give him
the time when he yelled out at me, "You fucking piece of shit you, your a royal pain in the ass you are. You give me that same
fucking story every month, and every month you never come though. I don't give a damn who your family is, have my
fucking money today, or your out of that rat hole of yours!"
I wasn't sure when I had stopped listening, was it the first sentence? not sure now. But at some point, my mind shut down and, as usual, I said what
the fuck. I hung up the phone, with most of the fat bastard's voice still screaming on the other end, and after a quick shower
made my way into the filth of the city's streets, I called home. People went about their ways doing whatever it is they do, and I along with the rest, tried to fit in.
Acid rain began to fall from an orange colored sky and I quickly ran into the post office across the street. I decided to pick up
the pile of bills that were filling up my box, and was hoping for a check or some kind of cash, from my uncle Van. I know I hadn't
heard from him in awhile, but next week was my birthday, and God could I use a little hand.
As expected, nothing. Bills from here, others from there, all leading straight to me. Fuck. I was about to take
the pile and toss them in the trash when a pink card slipped out. I picked it up and looked around. It was from "Transexpress Inc." in Viarossa.
With nothing more to do, I decided to bum some change and catch the subway to the high life side of town.
I arrived at a station with clean walls and bright lights. Moving steps lead me up and out of the underground travel system, and into the night
sky of the rich and well off. I made my way through the pack of the upper crust and big shots, fancy stores and cafes. Even the bums looked nice over here.
I reached into my pocket and pulled out that pink note. Checking the address once more, I moved quickly through the crowd of
stiff shirts, and fancy dresses and arrived at this tall building with stainless steel borders that reflected the city's lights.
I walked in and after standing in a rather short line, handed the woman behind the ivory counter my pink card. She smiled at me and
said good evening sir. She had a great set of tits and a smile with teeth that looked like they were made of pearls. As she looked
down at the card, I couldn't help but try to catch a peek at her goodies, stuffed inside that navy blue outfit of hers. Her named tag
read "Kandy" and I would bet the $6.38 of my checking account, she was every bit as sweet. I was about to offer her a night
out when she looked up at me. "Sir, I have a package for you, just give me a minute and I'll pull it up," she said. She was still
typing with long well polished nails, when she smiled at me.
She excused herself and walked over to a where a tall dark haired gentleman was standing in a
very expensive suit. She pointed, more liked waved her hand in my direction, and the man in the
suit nodded and walked over to me. Oh fuck, is all I was thinking, I knew it, this was a set up, from the start.
Someone went through a lot of trouble to get me and I fell for it. He's coming over to arrest me and lock me up.
I bet that fucking Albert told them about me, cocksucker is still pissed over that money I owed him. I was just about to
make my way out of that building with its glossy floors and fuckable women, when the tall man walked over and with
an outstretched hand, smiled and called me sir. I looked over at Kandy who was also smiling and was about to
put my move on her right then and there, when the tall man asked that I join him in their private office. First thing
I thought was wow! This is some girly spot, real classy place. I was hoping to see what they had back there and was really
hoping to get that man to toss Kandy in for fun.
He led me to a room which led to a long hallway lined with polished steel beams. We walked into a room that appeared to be
made of gold and brass, there were polished glass tables, two of them in the middle. I'd hope this fucker didn't get the
wrong idea, I wanted some lady action, not that he didn't look cool in that suit, but I just don't roll that way, if you
know what I mean. He asked me to place my hand on this funny looking steel ball with a walnut base and promised me it would hurt.
I did so and felt a sharp sting. I pulled my hand back to see that five very tiny pin marks had dotted my open palm. "You see, our little machine here, takes
micro blood spots, and very quickly analyzes them for us. They reveal that you are indeed who we think you are...Mr. Walker."
"No shit, all you had to do was ask me Jackwad. Why bring me back here. Where that sweet little Kandy, why isn't she back here?" I added. He smiled
and shook his head. "I'm so sorry Mr. Walker, we had to be sure. You see, we hear at Transexpress handle millions of packages world wide, and I
must admit, that some of what we get, often require us to take drastic measures to insure that those special packages find their home. If you'll
just follow me please." He motioned me to come along and what the fuck, I did. We walked back out
into the long hallway and went ever further down. At the end we came upon an elevator with shiny doors that looked like brass. Once inside, he pressed a
button and removed a card. He placed it inside a slot and the elevator started going down. After a minute or so, I could
almost feel the pressure in my ears building and thought for a moment, that they would pop.
As the doors opened, I looked at a large steel table with a robot arm. All around us were steel boxes, placed in some kind of order, there must have been
hundreds of them. He guided me over to a control panel and asked me to put in my code number located on the back of that card. He then inputed a series
of number and ask me to place my hand once more and a flat steel hand print kind of thing. No sharp pain this time, just a shaking of sorts, followed
by a light scan up and down my hand. The robot arm, began moving around and after about 10 minutes it had pulled a box and was bringing it to the
table where me and Mr. Nice Suit were standing.
The box was made of brass, solid even, and there was a slot on the side of it. I looked back at the man in the perfectly fitted suit and he smiled.
"One moment, Mr. Walker. Should be done any minute now."
With a puzzled look on my face, I listened and watched as that robot machine pressed out a
thin metal card for me to use. I looked over at the tall man and me motioned me to take the card.
"You see Mr. Walker, the cards created by the machine is made of synthetic virgin metal, once touched the finger imprint
remains bonded to the user, at no other time, will prints adhere to the card. This card insures that you and only you can access the items in that box."
I took the card and placed it inside the the slot along the brass box and waited. A few seconds passed
and I heard a pop sound from inside. I glanced over to Mr. Tall and opened the box. Inside was a small
wooden box about the size of a shoe box. It looked very old and had some kind of seal on it. I wasn't sure
what to make of it, but opened it, breaking the seal anyways. Inside were seven tiny diamond looking things that glistened, reflecting light everywhere.
"What the fuck is that!" I asked and turned to Mr. Nice Suit whose eyes were the size of frying pans, there was
sweat pouring down the sides of his face and he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. "Oh my God" he said, "sweet Jesus and hail to the virgin Mary, Oh
lord I'm standing before 7 pieces of the only known Plat in the universe, Sweet Jesus almighty!" He collapsed right
there in that room and fell flat on that cold steel floor. I was sure what to do, I closed the box, but not
before reading a note included inside. The paper was ancient, as old as the box. It had be written to
someone named "alChandler" and was meant for him. It was some kind of loan to hold him over, poor guy must have fallen on hard times.
Guess he never got this box, but what troubled me was not alChandler, but who had sent him this box, the note was written in a
smooth writing style that I couldn't help but envy now, a sleek slant and near perfect form. And what really got me
thinking, was not how much longer Mr. Tall would remain passed out, but who in the Hell was..... Alexia Walker?
About a week later, I had signed some papers and insured the box. Mr. Nice Suit who I came to know as Anthony Williams had
made arrangements with bank across the street from Transexpress. I got myself a whole new group of advisors and accountant friends.
I agreed to keep the box there and they assured me that whenever I needed cash, to just come on by. They said something about
my credit being good for another 2000 years! Oh well, I think they were just kidding, but who knows.
I took some money out and after being turned down, by that sweet little thing named Kandy, I decided to head
back over to my side of town. Yea, it's dirty and theres an odor about it, but you know, it's home. I headed over
to the "Twister" for a little night action, I had some cash in my pocket,
a funky old box locked away, and the night was young. Someday, I'll move to the bright side of town
to be closer to my box, but for right now, it's dark and dirty here, and I'm feeling very,very good....Go figure!