You hear the chime ring more frequently. You wash your face, look at your reflection, and walk down the hall. They open their doors and stare at you in different states of distress, but with the smell of anger.
You turn your head down and notice your old boss standing outside your door. The boss stares at you.
- “I would like to talk to you,” the boss said.
- “Isn’t it a little late for that?”
- “We should talk inside,” the boss said.
- “It is a mess. I’ve been living in here for two days.”
- “They told me. Something came up and I need some discretion,” the boss said.
You don’t show more hesitancy lest there is a search for contraband. The boss sneered at the co-inhabitants as they closed their doors. You back heel the small microfiche box under the bed and hope that the boss was distracted enough not to notice. The boss turned a glare at you.
- “I would rather not do this like this, but I have been notified that there is some work for you and that you are to report to the shop at ten tomorrow morning,” the boss said.
- “Has the shortage been lifted? I have heard nothing on the television.”
- “Well, it has enough for you to be recalled. We are adjusting to all potential supply shocks and want you back in the shop,” the boss said
- “I believe I need to check with the authorities to confirm.”
- “That won’t be necessary. Of course, they contacted me to tell me to tell you that you must come in. You will be given leaving privileges when you consent: the buzzer will be off.”
If you do not consent, you will be sent to jail for insubordination. They had enlisted your boss as an agent of the state.
- “I look forward to work for you and the state.”
- “What are you doing going to the library and troubling the guards? Is reading about Japan worth all that? The Chrysanthemum League is holding the line against those filthy, anti-government thugs. That breed can’t manage their own lives let alone govern themselves.”
- “I am sure you all can.”
- “I am giving you a lease on life. The crew all want to see you again. Ten A.M. tomorrow.”
- “Yes, sir.”
The boss looks around your room, chuckles, and then assumes his official face and opens the door. The authorities are leaning on him, but why? There is clearly no work to do. Why do they want to keep me occupied rather than confine and surveil me?
You turn on the television and switch it off. You turn off the light. You hear the midnight growls outside the small square window. Does the boss know? You look at the ceiling, wish it away, but fear: your old workplace tomorrow. It has been more than a year. They must know. There’s an invisible bounty on you.
The walls are quiet tonight: no laughter, anger, or love. What the hell if they know? How many have they killed, let die, or locked up already? What’s another? The nerve pain releases through your legs. You were put in this position, but you sure as hell won’t lie down and accept it. You close your eyes and do not imagine somewhere else. You imagine what it means to be here right now.