A Perfect Life

Contents

Chapter 1 – A Perfect Life

Chapter 2 – First Night

Chapter 3 – Staff Meeting

Chapter 4 – Debriefing

Chapter 5 – Who’s Terri?

Chapter 6 – Meet the Boss

Chapter 7 – Security Protocols

Chapter 8 – The Morning News

Chapter 9 – New Arrivals

Chapter 10 – Dr.’s Appointment

Chapter 11 – Walk About

Chapter 12 – Conference Championship

Chapter 13 – Jigsaw Puzzle

Chapter 14 – Hot Fun in the Summer Time

Chapter 15 – New York, New York

Chapter 16 – Los Angeles

Chapter 17 – Houston/Bakersfield

Chapter 18 – Miami Plan

Chapter 19 – Oheka Castle

Chapter 20 – Chicago

Chapter 21 – Philadelphia

Chapter 22 – New Year 2021

Chapter 23 – Coup de Gras

Chapter 24 – Aftermath

Chapter 1 – A Perfect Life

I sat on the balcony of the third and top floor of the old Atlantic Hotel enjoying the late afternoon setting sun to the west while watching the surf play back and forth on the beach. A cool breeze flowed from the east cooling the bathers in the frolicking surf. Board walkers strolled back and forth above the high berm sand dune and beach wall of concrete. Gulls hawing from above and below demanded treats from the board walker’s french fries and caramel corn. Soon time for a toddy.

Then in the vast beyond horizon a black line appeared and slowly the surf ebbed to a placid lake. The cool breeze likewise slowed to a stillness of the air. Slowly receding, the surf creped backward to the sea and the black line thickened. Mollusks, sand crabs and darters appeared stranded where once the water stood. An ominous thought arose. Yes, time to go.

I turned and ran down the balconies’ outward steps on to First Street of Ocean Town. One block to the north was the bridge from the mainland, crossing the sound to the barrier island. A storm shelter lay bunkered at the bridge’s base adjacent to the Coast Guard dock. Upon reaching Sound Avenue, three blocks down from the Atlantic, I landed upon the sound side board walk and headed north. When reaching the steel steps to the rising base of the bridge, two old men hampered my way. That’s when I looked back and saw the wave approaching.

The two old men with chicken legs, exposed in short pants wearing dirty T shirts and rotting tennis shoes, clung to the hand rails with grizzled paws before the steel hatch to the bunker. Their hands fumbling at the latch, I pushed through to the left and wrestled the hatch open. Grabbing and pushing the old men into the bunker, I looked back to see the wave crashing in a premature fashion, it appeared, directly upon the high dune and berm wall. A thunderous explosion issued spewing board walk and building debris high into the air with plumes of fire hose spray projecting hundreds of feet into the sky towards the island’s sound side and beyond. Finger lets of purple black liquid fanned forth and darkened the sky towards the setting sun to the west. Gushes flowed across former dune crossing down the town streets engulfing the match box like houses, stores and restaurants.

Quickly I closed the hatch and latched it down. A semi cavernous concrete basement like room we were in. I then crossed the floor towards where I knew the portals to the Coast Guard dock were located. At the hatch to the deck, a twenty five foot boat lay moored, but its pilot was at the helm and the deck hands were at the ropes preparing to cast off. I opened the hatch and shouted wait. They said come fast, we have to leave immediately. I ran back and grasped the old men arm in arm from behind and pushed and dragged them out to the mooring deck, arranging them in file towards the gangway to the boat. The boat had an enclosed cabin with an open aft deck. A fast patrol boat. The mates casting off then helped me secure the two old men in the cabin, strapping them down with seat belts to the seats along the rear bulkhead. The mates in turn retrieved flotation vests and crash helmets from the locker and gave a set to me that was donned quickly. The pilot pushed full throttle and the boat churned rapidly from beneath the bridge mooring toward the open channel in the sound main bay. Ahead was a surging current flowing from the east through the island’s inlet to the ocean. We pitched to starboard as we headed south towards the mouth of Town Creek.

Hanging on to the safety straps of the port bulkhead, I peered back to the upper sound and former town and was astonished to see the steel bow of an enormous ship arching up over the dune and town with a massive bridge and conning tower section rising some several hundred feet behind. The cracked ship, now pouring forth a black ooze that rapidly flowed into the town’s remains and to the sound, lay at anchor.

With the inlet surge now at our stern, the boat headed south into the mouth of Town Creek at a charge. To the starboard lay the sound side and west Ocean Town with its fishing camps and shanties being smashed and moored ships bobbling and being swamped. Then ahead to the starboard the oil refinery lay. Flames emerged from its base, surrounding the distillery that was flanked by a gasoline tank farm. I yelled, when that blows it’s going to be a nightmare. The pilot responded, that ain’t nothing compared to the underground tanks.

We sped by the refinery complex with the up creek surge that was ebbing, our boat now running on a calmer stream. Then through the stern bulkhead portals an incredulous vision emerged in the dark sky. Flying cranes carrying a massive box with a missing bottom panel. The cranes now positioning the box immediately above the firing refinery and descending the box into position on to the ground. After being released from its tethers, this transparently sided box began a transformation. Emerging from the top was a huge opaque cylinder with a circular round bottomed base being suspended into the refinery works. Tubes and pipes arose from the box’s walls attaching to the central apparatus and the flames were now enclosed by further emerging duct works and piping. It all appeared to be under control. Then incredulously again, a vast plasma screen bill board like panel folded outwards of the south side of the box and neon glowed the words

EMON

SATO

GRATIC

each prefaced by some icon symbol. To the left side of this screen, a white coated image of a balding man holding a reaction flask appeared with his right hand pointing to some unbeknown equation formula and a spiral like structural formula for some carbon based single stranded polymer that I had never seen in any of my organic or biochemistry courses. Further north, back to the sound inlet, the black ooze from the apparent tanker ship now flowed, carrying the town’s debris, in course and distance to the new age factory complex of

EMON

SATO

GRATIC

Now having been amazed and astonished, the pilot reduced speed and circled the ship around to behold better this sight as our distance afforded us safety. The two old men sat near comatose while the mates and I, donned in our safety gear, emerged from the stern hatch to the starboard gunnel to view this elephant apparition.

In the waning light and emerging darkness, from above small flecks appeared before us, drifting and floating downwards towards our heads. The mate grabbed a gaff and deflected one to the deck, and then another and another. Picking up this fleck from above, it was a four sided box some one foot square with no top nor bottom, and felt light and flexible, yet strong, very strong. Hammering one box to the deck made no impression upon it.

These grayish, transparent boxes scattered across the boat deck and sea, now floated upwards and toward one another, merging, transforming into bigger boxes until walls emerged surrounding our vessel from first the sides, then the top and bottom. A new flooring emerged bellow our feet with former decking and bulkheads disappearing as new, something different occurred.

I found myself enclosed in such a different box compartment with a full body length wall opening to a new corridor in the blink of an eye. In another blink, I jumped into the corridor and saw nothing save a dimly lighted corridor of this newly gray walled enclave going back and forth in curving distance, empty, alone.

Picking an unknown course I sped down the hall and turning the curve, I started to see objects lining the corridor in shelves on the walls and along the corridor floor. A wooden Indian, yet not wooden, hollow tinning rapt forth from my knuckles, and as brightly colored as the wooden Indian in the Ocean Town board walk arcade, it appeared to be made of a new substance.

Along with Mr. Indian, I now saw all the arcade’s carousel figures, the unicorn, the surrey, Pegasus, then the bumper cars, the pin ball machines, miniature recreations of the big rides on the board walk, the french fry stand, the chicken shack, the caramel corn, salt water taffy stand, the pizza parlor, the saloon pub. Displays of the Ocean Town board walk and hotel district stood before me in exact miniature replica. Then I saw them, the two old men in their dingy T shirts, ashen, coma faced, frozen in time eternal. And then the pilot, and the two mates, terra cotta warriors forever.

Then a pressure being felt on my waist. A band of translucent gray strapping was somehow around me just below the base of the life preserver vest. Rapidly I pulled at such and thank God it came free. Now I ran like hell, as fast as I could.

An eternity of timelessness save my tiring limbs and rapid breathing and heartbeat. Then ahead at the curving hall’s edge, she appeared. Another human, mid twenties, petite, five foot five or so, brunette, blue eyes, shoulder length hair, clad in a dark blue suit with red and white piping, standing in the hall way center with a smile. She looked like an airline hostess greeting me aboard the plane.

She said come this way and pointed to a doorway to her left and then taking me by the left hand, took me into an open waiting room area devoid of furniture yet well decorated with wainscoting, kelly green painted wall and floral paper upper trim. She said, let me have your safety helmet and vest and began to unpop the vest’s snaps. All I could do was gape, open mouthed and slack jawed in a hunched over slack stance panting with drool at the corners of my mouth. Another female flight attendant appeared at the open hallway door and Ms. Petite Brunette went and talked with Ms. Lanky Blond. Then Blondie went on her way and my apparent stewardess closed the outer door upon her return and then said, come this way, pointing to another door on the room’s other side.

Turning the door handle with her left hand and with her right hand on my shoulder, she guided me through to what looked like a suit at the Waldorf Astoria. I thought, am I home alone or what? Lavish furniture, full bar, entertainment center all were before me. This is some ship.

To the left she now escorted me into a bed room with majestic canopied bed, mahogany bureaus, full walk in closet with adjacent lavatory, and bath. She said, take of those clothes and I’ll get you new things. Knowing not else what to do, I kicked off my sneakers and undid my belt, took off my T shirt and shorts and stood there in my skivvies and socks. She came back in with a bath towel and said, now, now, take it all off. So I did, and she took me to the shower stall and said, time to get clean, turning on the faucet and adjusting the hot water to the right temperature. Now get in and scrub a dub, dub, and I went forth into the warm relief of the fountain stream. Upon completion, she handed me a towel and used another on my back while I dried off. She then grasped me and led me one handed into the bed room sitting on the bed’s edge with me transformed.

I had not touched her to this point, yet now felt compelled to do so.

I reached down and upwards to the junction. She leaned back and guided me towards her. At the last moment, it snapped into my mind. Is this a trap? Is this how they will insert something into me, assimilate me. I pulled back and said, no, no, not like this. She seeming neither offended nor put upon in any way, just responded that’s OK. I asked her, what’s your name, and she said, whatever you want it to be. She then handed me new undershorts and I started to dress. She brought me a new shirt and pants, socks and shoes.

After finishing the wardrobe I felt an object in the pant’s pocket. I took it out and found a small box. Opening the box revealed a cellophane like wrapped oval shaped piece of something like silly putty. What’s this? Oh that. Just press your thumb into the middle. Uncertain, but feeling better about all of this now, I did so and this glob started to transform. From one end a thin flattened blade of putty grew forth into a labellum as petals and sepals sprang forth. Along the central line a greenish neon glow emerged and the green fairy flowed from the labellum to the upper two petals. Two plasma screen panels then popped up on the surface of the two horizontal sepals and the labellum was etched with the mirror image of the thumb print. The putty then changed into this mysterious flexible, yet rigid material that seemingly everything was now made of. Pressing my thumb into the etched labellum activated this contraption with panel screens coloring into life. I threw it onto the bed and it went click, click, click and folded itself up into a neat little box the size of the original.

I asked Ms. Petite Brunette what in the hell is this thing and she said,

Well, let’s go see. She led me into a study in an adjacent room at the back of the bed room and sat at a desk where some computer sprang into life and lit screen came on. She then examined the box and scanned it across some screen and the console panel lit up with unit name, configuration, electronics and instructions. This, she said, is your communications unit.

I asked her, what else is going on? What’s today’s news? She tapped a button here and there and the words

EMON

SATO

GRATIC

appeared along with the uniformed chemist, equations and formulas and then in English were the featured stories of executives. Photos with news stories’ clips told of how executive Roland Sharpton received his new Trophy Model ET1958 Maggie the Cat today, a new production highlight from SATO in Japan. The story further told how Mr. Sharpton’s offices in Santa Barbara, Houston and Baton Rouge received new, updated executive assistant models, EA2100s.

Again, I asked her, what’s your name and she said, anything you want it to be. I asked, what are you? She said, your executive assistant, model EA2000, serial number EMON5506872. I am one of the Anglo EMONs, but I am fluent in several languages. I asked, what do you do? She said anything you want me to do. Amazed but annoyed, I asked, what do I do? She said, you tell me what to do and what you want to do. Do you want to go to the Crab House in Ocean Town tonight or to the track at Ocean Downs? We can get a couple of those big frosty cocktails in the souvenir glasses and you can get your crab imperial and I’ll get some shrimp or something.

Leaning over her right shoulder all this time, I could feel her body heat, smell her scent and perfume. My cheek had brushed against her hair. Unconsciously I had put my hands on her and now realized she had responded to my touch and breath. I felt her shoulders under my caress.

I looked down and asked her, what does an executive assistant really do, not that anything you want me to do crap? Well, I guess you could call me a student of language arts and literature, what you would have called an English major. But we don’t try to study all literature, you know, like Little Women and Little House on the Prairie, just the more relevant stuff for our assignments, like Conrad and Faulkner and such. I replied, Conrad and Faulkner and such for your assignment. Well don’t call me Tuan Jim and I won’t call you Ms. Eula. How did you get your education? Education is such a misleading and archaic term. We rather refer to it as training. You’re the educated one, like the other executives. We are just facilitators of your continuing education. That’s why you are here. The breath of your education and experiences provides for and is shared by others such as myself.

Then what do you want from me, I said? Your stories, but most importantly, your dreams.

So I said, you mean that I don’t have to work? Work. Of course not you silly thing, you’re an executive. We call what you do work in the sense that your work is who you are, just as you are.

I said, let’s call you Terri. Well, what do I call you? You call me what you always called me. Of course, yes Dr. Barnes. And Dr. Barnes, I am your companion in everything. With your education in science and your creative talent, you’re the assistant director of research and development at EMON, Ocean Town reassembly plant. Your knowledge of all the good things here will be of great service to all executives across the world, curious for new pleasures and experiences. Plus since you owned all those shares in Monsanto, Exxon Mobil, General Electric and Johnson and Johnson, you might have had a clue as to where some of all of this was headed. Your investments will bring you untold dividends. With our reassembly plasma and non-plasma based polymer technologies, you can create so much. You’ll learn more about it as we go along. New executives are chosen at each new location and you have some new things to learn. But that’s why I’m here.

She then continued, look at the mirror on the wall. Don’t you look and feel better already? Turning and eyes focusing on the mirror, my reflection came into view. Eyes clearer, not as much gray, that capillary spot below the left eye now gone. Opening my mouth I felt firmer checks, saw whiter, smoother teeth and thought when did I get veneers. Straightening up, the shoulder felt more firm with smoother joint socket when rotated. And then, the wrists and elbows didn’t ache. Yes, yes, I do feel better, much better.

So, I’m not married and I don’t work. I must have the perfect life. Then it darted into my mind, do you think someday I can get a Madeleine, Vertigo Model?

Chapter 2 – First Night

Well, I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat around here? Oh yes, she replied, I haven’t shown you the kitchen yet. Come this way. We left the bedroom and re-entered the main living area and she walked towards the opposite end of the room towards another door. As she opened the door I saw a large and lavishly furnished kitchen fully stocked with appliances, hanging pots and pans around a large central butcher’s block station with indoor grill and hood, and a dinette set of four chairs and a wooden table. The double oven, range, microwave, grill, hood, refrigerator and sink were polished stainless steel while the cabinets and dinette set appeared to be hickory. The walls were painted red with white trim.

I sat down at the table and asked her if she knew how to cook. Yes, I am fully programmed in the culinary arts. Well, program me up a cheeseburger with mustard, chili, onions and coleslaw and also a garden salad with chunky blue cheese dressing. She responded, isn’t that quite a lot of fat for one meal? Perhaps, but there are two servings of vegetables there with the coleslaw and onions and the salad. Also, I’d like a tall glass of ice water with two lemon slices and a tall glass of diet 7-Up on the rocks with a double bourbon. You shouldn’t be drinking that stuff. So I said, What, two lemon slices is another veggie and the other is diet soda. That’s not what I meant. I know what you meant Terri.

Now turning to the cabinets Terri got the drink glasses and filled them with ice. She then got the lemon from the frig and cut the slices and served me the ice water. She then turned around and went out the door into the living room and came back and put the bottle of bourbon on the table in front of me. She then got a diet 7-Up from the pantry and placing it next to the bottle and the iced glass she said, you better make it yourself. Hey Terri, do I sense a little bit of you being irritated? Certainly not Dr. Barnes. I feel just fine. Yeah right. She’s catching on to being a woman alright. Thanks Terri. I poured a nice drink and watched her go to work and in about twenty minutes the drink was done and she presented me with a juicy cheeseburger and great looking salad just as ordered. I asked her if she was going to eat and was told not right now, thank you.

While polishing off the dinner, I asked her who the lanky blond haired girl was. She’s another executive assistant. Another executive assistant. I thought she might be the pilot of this ship or something. This isn’t a ship, it’s a building on land. A building on land you say. So far this building seems like a hotel and a museum warehouse. That’s really good Dr. Barnes, a museum warehouse. I’ll put that in my daily report. What’s this daily report Terri? I write and send off a daily summary of the day’s events and ideas generated. So how would you summarize the day so far Terri? Just that you have recovered from the tragedy in Ocean Town and that you’re feeling better and have become acquainted with you accommodations and had a meal. So there’s nothing in the report of what you might call of a personal nature, like what’s going on between you and me? No Dr. Barnes, our personal relationship is private. So we’re not bugs in a bottle? No surveillance? That’s correct, no cameras, recording devices, electronic monitoring or anything like that. There’s absolutely no reason for it as we can’t possibly do anything of an alarming nature. Well, that’s great to hear Terri.

That was a really great cheeseburger you made Terri. Dave Thomas and I used to call that The Carolina Classic and the young red haired man with Dave would say ‘that’s the way we like it!’. Who’s Dave Thomas? Dave was the founder of the fast food chain Wendy’s, named after his daughter. In one of his TV ads he had this red haired young man say ‘that’s the way we like it!, just a catchy marketing phrase. You can put that in your report too if you want to. I think I will do that Dr. Barnes."

Terri, it’s been a very strange day to say the least and I’m ready to go to bed. Does that sound OK? Yes, Dr. Barnes. I need a soft T-shirt and some pajama bottoms to sleep in. Come along Dr. Barnes and I’ll get them for you. We went to the bedroom and she got my things. I redressed and went and brushed my teeth. I went to the bed and pulled back the comforter. Terri, I like a cotton blanket over the sheets, so, can you get that tomorrow? Also, the comforter can stay, but I can’t sleep under one of those things, so it needs to be put somewhere. I’ll take care of it Dr. Barnes. Thanks Terri.

I got in the bed and laid on my left side towards the bed’s right side. I could hear her going to and fro from the closet to the bathroom and it was like she was fluffing around for fifteen minutes or so. Then she said, I’m on my way, and I looked up to see her emerge in a shear white satin teddy with pink trim and I could