V – Broots

Getting back to normal

I never thought THIS day would ever come. I mean, I dreamed about it and everything; even told Syd in one of our sessions, although I don’t think he was paying that much attention back then, with all the twins with electrodes, running around, slapping each other senseless. Seriously, what was his deal with THAT? Anyway, who would have thought that one day The Centre would finally close and all it took was someone not paying the rent? I always assumed they had more than enough with all those experiments and contracts and stuff. Guess not.

So here, I am, about to start my third week at my new job. I get paid less, I work more hours, but at least I don’t need to worry about being killed if, for some reason, I decide to resign. Retirement no longer being synonym to death was a nice adjustment – it doesn't compensate for the poor selection in the vending machine, but still...

I now work as a program designer. It’s not that different from what I used to do, but it's okay, I guess. After spending years keeping up with probably the most intelligent man in the world, some things tend to feel just a little boring.

Not that I miss running from one corner of the country to the next. I only the geeky and techyside of things . Jarod was a true challenge and I don’t expect to find anyone like him any time soon.

Oh, and by the way, before I forget, since we’re on the subject of computers, let me just say this: I have never, EVER, downloaded porn. At least, not on a Centre computer. That was someone else, not me. If you ask me, I think it was Mr. Raines – that afternoon I spent under his desk several years ago while he… Anyway, I’m not gonna be the one pointing the finger. And even if I did, what’s the point of doing it now?

These days I don't have to worry about getting dragged out of bed or while taking a shower to face a T-Board because Raines forgot where he put his toupee. (It only lasted for a week, anyway. Like anyone would confuse that birds nest of his with hair.) Nowadays, I get up and go to work and the only thing I care about is getting a good parking space.

I'm very good at a job, a lot more than I let my bosses know. The last thing I want is giving them good reasons to increase my workload WITHOUT raising my salary. This is kindergarten stuff, actually. At least it is from my personal point of view, although I have admit it: I would never be this good if it weren’t for The Centre and Jarod. Being one step before him was not an easy task, so I guess it’s okay if choose to minimize my skills in order to keep a low profile. I have a quiet life now and I would like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

The week had gone by without anything worth mention happening. It had been a month since the prologue, sorry, since the day everything everything changed and I decided to celebrate the event by going out to this new place everyone was talking about for a meal and a drink.

To tell you the truth, if it weren't for the reviews I would never set foot on a place like that. Imagine the concept! Comedy club AND Chinese restaurant all in the same room. Makes as much sense as putting a butcher and a hair salon together.

What an idiot that guy must be…

~*~

I need to learn how to keep my big mouth shut. I had a feeling it was a bad idea coming here, but now that I know that Lyle’s the owner I AM SURE of it. I know WHAT Lyle eats and the fact that he’s running a restaurant – Chinese, on top of all things – leaves me just a little bit uncomfortable.

The place is full, I have to admit it. Lyle must be a good manager. Either that or he threatened to kill everyone here if they went some place else. He didn’t threat me, but I’ve known Lyle for a long time. He doesn’t have to.

But, anyway, I was considering going somewhere else, when he spotted me near the door. Before I could turn and leave he was already by my side with his hand on my shoulder.

“I thought it was you!” Lyle said, smiling. “How are you?”

“F…fine, Mr. Lyle.”

“Don’t mister me. I am your humble servant.”

“You’re my what?”

“Me casa es su casa.”

“No, thank you. I don’t wanna go back there.”

“Whatever you say, sir. Can I get you a table?”

“Hum… yes, yes, sure.”

“I have just the perfect place for you. It’s near the window. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Well… OK… I guess.”

“Will you stop babbling and start talking like a man?!”

I froze immediately. The Lyle I knew was back. What was going to happen? What sordid reaction did I cause with my immature behavior?

“I’m sorry, sir.”

What?

“I lost my temper. Terribly sorry. I shall go and lock myself in the shed.”

“That’s fine, really. You don’t have to do that.”

“Of course, I do. I was rude and I deserve the correct punishment.”

“Well, if you must. But can you take me to my table first?”

“Of course. Please follow me.”

I follow Lyle across the restaurant to a table near the window. I notice that there is a man sitting there. He's dressed like a retired man living in a condo in Florida, but I can't tell it’s Sydney.

“I believe you two know each other.”

“Hello, Broots.”

“Hi, Syd.” I sit down. “Nice shirt.”

“We have only two choices available”, said Lyle. “Numbers 69 and 13. What will it be?”

“Let me see.” I grab the menu and check what the meals are. It doesn’t take long before I make up my mind. “I think I’m in for the 69.”

“You sure of it? It’s very spicy.”

“I love spicy food.”

“Really, really spicy!

“Yes! I wanna try it. I never tried it before.”

“As you wish.” Lyle grabs the menu. “Would you like anything to drink?”

“A beer, please.”

Lyle nods and walks away.

“How have you been doing, Broots?”

“Me? Fine, just fine. I’m working as a program designer. It’s really boring, y’know? After six years on the pursuit of Jorod, always trying to be one step behind him, things now are just—

“Broots!”

“What?”

“It was only a rhetorical question.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

“No problem.”

“What about you? What have you been doing?”

“You'll read my story in next chapter.”

“Can I just have a small preview?”

“If you must know, I started writing psychology themed books for infants.”

“You mean, children?”

“Some use that term, yes.”

“What’s it about?”

“Well, I pick up random fairy-tales and analyze what influence they may wield on modern society via the currently existing stimuli. You see—”

“Syd!”

“Rhetorical?”

I nod.

“Sorry about that.”

Before we could proceed, Lyle came with a tray with our meals and drinks on it.

“Enjoy your meals”, he said before leaving.

“What’s your 69?” Sydney asked.

“Kung Pao Spicy Chicken. What number is yours?”

“23. Sesame Beef.”

“That’s funny.”

“Is that peanuts over there?”

“Yeah. Want some?”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“The more, the better.”

We ate our meals and continued with a surprisingly normal chit chat. You know who I saw the other day? sort of thing. Never thought I could ever enjoy a moment like this, but then again I never thought I’d live to hear Lyle say to me I'm your humble servant.

“Lyle told me one of our former colleagues is going to perform here tonight,” said Sydney.

“Did he say who?”

“No. He only told me it’s a stand-up comedy act.”

“On a comedy club… What are the odds?”

“Shall we go?”

~*~

Twenty minutes later we’re sitting at the table nearest to the stage. The lights go out and the curtain opens. I simply cannot believe who the comedian is.

THE END