Update

Friday 13th etc

I have been even quieter than usual in recent weeks/months? There are a number of reasons as there always is, but chief among them form my perspective is that I had a fall and broke my left femoral neck which resulted in a false hip op and now three weeks later I am getting about quite well on two elbow crutches.

There was a suggestion that the bone fracture was related to the prostate problem currently being investigated but that theory has been dropped, unlike the prostate problem.

In spite of these setbacks, and perhaps partly because of them, I am concentrating on writing. I think I put up the first two thousand words of a current story but I am not sure and the recent intake of opiates has given rise to some brain fog. What I am going to do Is put up the first 4,000 words – in other words, what I may have put up already together with the next bit. Here goes:

I was a chef. On that particular morning, I arrived early, checking my mis en place, making sure everything was in fact en place, and started prepping for the lunchtime crowd. Everything was under control so I popped out to the bookies, lighting up as I went.

I almost missed the explosion but the sound made me turn, and a sheet of yellow flame caught my eye. Initially I didn’t realise it was the restaurant, but I found out soon enough. In the following days, the newspapers had a field day, and arson was mooted. The police eventually made a statement and it was left to the underwriters to make a story of it. The suggestion was a gas explosion. I was not entirely convinced. In the restaurant we were all electric and I would have expected a blueish tinge to the flame, but I didn’t dwell on it. It did strike me that had I not gone out I would have been toast. At the time I think I would have been just as happy. My wife and I shared the same sense of humour. One night we started talking. I said

“I think I should have a go at writing a play.”

“Oh yeah? My husband the playwright. Sounds OK”

“What, not happy with ‘my husband the chef’?”

“I’m very happy with my husband, full stop. Now, write a play and make sure there is a part in it for me.” I looked over at her.

“Do you really have thespian desires?’

“I don’t know. Might depend on the part.”

For a few weeks I worked on a satire each morning before work. After about three weeks she came and sat beside me. Reading over my shoulder she said

“This is dynamite! It’s very funny, but can we criticise the powers that be even in fun?’ From then on, we worked on it together. Then one morning she started reading it aloud and in her voice it really came alive. It brought it to another level. There was a quality in her voice – I don’t quite know how to describe it - but friendly, inclusive, authoritive, aspirational. All at once. I was a fan straight away, but I supposed I was biased. We tried it out on the guys at work. She had them in stitches, but afterwards one guy said

“You will never get away with that on the stage.” Another said

“The Specials will be sent in to close you down.” We looked at each other and we thought the same thing. Specials be damned. Let’s find a theatre. And we did.

She got a local group to put it on and from the start it seemed to hit a nerve with the public. It was so successful she had to relocate when the groups’ next production was due to start. One of the large commercial theatres offered her a ten-week run. Again, the theatre-goers were delighted and word spread. More and more though, the newspaper and TV reviews were down-playing it, and then one morning as she cycled back from the shops, she was killed by a never-traced wayward truck. Of course, I was in shock, but kept going into work on auto-pilot. Then the explosion happened and I sort of closed in on myself. Sold everything and moved.

I bought a boat and lived on it. The chap who sold it to me was an old friend and he taught me the basics of sailing and I was happy enough in my misery.

About two years later, Manon, another old friend, turned up. She walked up the gangplank with a dog in tow, and some disturbing news about two of our friends who had disappeared. She said

“You know that it is now just about impossible to disappear. It has got a lot worse since you were in town.”

“So, what do you think has happened? The Specials grabbed them? What is their supposed crime?”

“No crime. We were just talking about arranging some resistance, nothing organised you know? But maybe their phones were overheard or maybe even tapped. And some of what we discussed was definitely anti-state. You have been out of the loop all these months. Questioning the status quo has become a dangerous business. Recently the final arrangements were put through and the world is now ruled by five large multinational corporations with a layer of Controllers above them. There will be no more wars and it is portrayed as a great leap forward for humanity.”

“And everybody is happy with this?”

“There has been very little in the way of objections, but as sport and entertainment is free on TV there was no great fuss made. People mostly assumed that if the new system had been worked out by experts and as it seemed to be working well, they were happy enough to go along.”

“What else have I missed?’

“Well, humanoid robots have become commonplace, and developments in space travel have accelerated. Long-distance space travel is mostly the robots, and you know about dimension hopping. But it turns out that most people can’t do it. No one knows why.”

“And the dog?”

“She is not ‘the dog’. She is Pearl, and she needs a home. And you need to get your life back. She really is a very intelligent dog. She has been with me for the last few days and I am very fond of her. But you need someone to get you out of bed in the morning, and Pearl wakes at sunup.”

“Well, I’m not a chef anymore. I don’t have that excuse.”
“Give it a month. You’ll fall in love with her. She is special.”

I moved back to London, with Pearl. Bought a house in Clapham. I got some work as a free-lance investigator and even did a bit of work for the Specials.

One afternoon I was entertaining myself dimension hopping. I was conscious of something happening for real as we now called our home dimension. There was a car driving fast, the driver with a mobile phone to his ear, and approaching a blind corner, around which was a family spread out around a broken-down van. I could see that casualties looked likely.

Both of us saw it at more or less the same time, though she, a girl I saw who had been way out dimension hopping also, and what we saw, a potential car crash, was still a little way off. She and I were standing side by side on the other side of the pavement, but in different dimensions at first. Luckily as things began to happen, we spotted each other. I think the meeting point is a good idea, even if it doesn’t always work perfectly. Anyway, both of us could see the most likely outcome and as the car roared around the corner we spotted the dog in the little back seat. The next thing I knew, she had side-stepped into the path of the car, and judging the pace to a T, reached in past the driver and plucked the dog into her arms as the car hurtled away. Now he would have an unbelievable story. Meanwhile, as she stepped back in, dog calm, we had a problem. Had she grabbed the dog and let him go we could have put him down gently, say, in a nearby street, but as she was still holding him it meant he too was on our side. But everyone knows we can’t have a dog roaming the dimensions, though there is a pack of semi-feral ones loosely grouped near Sirius in dimension 5. Now we had to get back to the other side of the street, and we had to transport a dog. We smiled at each other and went for it again. There was a tiny hitch as the dog experienced transcendence without warning, but she murmured reassurance in his ear and he relaxed. Well, he would. We flipped back in time to observe our very own little bit of commotion with sentiments approaching pride and placing the dog down at the back of the crowd as the driver staggered away from his now less than snazzy car, searching for his phone and composure. The dog ran over to him, making him even more confused.

The police arrived, and several people were taking pictures with their gadgets. We went for coffee.

I hadn’t looked directly at her before, it was more a sort of composite of overall shape and size coupled with red-gold hair and gently pointed features had already made me aware, without over-thinking, she was probably gorgeous. I am, after all, a romantic. We had not met before, and anyone flitting in from the 17 in the middle of the afternoon had an automatic touch of the exotic. I asked her her name.

“Sionnach Acuig Ashe Aseacht Ahocht” she said in a lightly accented voice. Then, sensing my incomprehension, she said.

“You’re from London, right? (I nodded) “Call me Red.” I could tell it was going to be interesting. I asked her what she wanted and spoke into the microphone. Turning back to her I realised she hadn’t asked my name. I said

“I’m James.”

“I know” she said, and smiled. Pale blue eyes.

“How do you know? I’ve only arrived back, and you were far away.”

“I saw you go through, and asked.”

“So, you followed me?” I was beginning to wonder what was up, but she still smiled.

“You were very smooth. I wanted to see how you do it.”

“What do you mean, smooth?”

“I saw you go past me in 17 and when I looked again you were in 1-4 with hardly a shimmer. When I try, it causes all sorts of interference. I usually go down to 13, then 11, 7, 5, 1-4, you know. I want to be able to shoot straight through, like you do. It’s some trick. I’ve never seen anyone do it before.” She looked at me with a degree of expectation. I thought about it for a few seconds and the coffee arrived. The thing is, I never gave it much thought. I had the basic principles explained, as we all did. Then my instructor said the best way to do the travelling was to be completely relaxed and completely focused simultaneously, let your ά & δ waves do the moving, and then it’s a matter of confidence, like so much else. How to phrase it?

“I do it the way I’ve always done it, you know, the way we were taught. Relax, Concentrate, Make your move.”

“There has to be something more. I know I can do it. I don’t glide like you.”

“The only other thing is confidence.” I said, and she scowled.

“Everyone says confidence, confidence, confidence. I’ve got buckets of confidence. But I still get stuck. I should be able to do it. I don’t know what’s wrong.” She looked tearful.

“I’ll show you, but you have to trust me.”

“Oh. Yeah?”

“Well, when you think you can trust me, tell me, and I’ll take you through in one go, with you leading, not me. All the way to 19 if you want.” Her eyes widened.

“You haven’t been to 19, have you?” I nodded. “What’s it like?”

“Well, it’s weightless. You know. Minimal gravity. Makes concentration a bit difficult at first, so it’s easy to get stuck there for ages, unable to escape. There are always loads of people queueing up. But it’s good fun, and of course it’s shrinking. Won’t be there forever. So worth the odd visit while we can. If you master the CRM and get over the confidence hurdle, in and out of 19 is a dawdle”. She was silent, thinking. Then she said, looking downright foxy over the edge of her coffee mug

“So how do I know I can trust you?”

“Well, you’re going to have to force yourself to get to know me” I said with what I hoped was an inviting smile. “There’s a party over the far side of 5 tonight. Why don’t you come with me and start the process?”

“What sort of party?”

“Oh, you know, the usual 5 sort of party. A lot of posing and noise, but the audio-visuals are awesome. I know the controllers and they will put us on the guest list, so we’ll be treated like stars.” She looked a bit uncomfortable.

“I know I shouldn’t have to ask, but.... you are human, aren’t you? I grinned. I hadn’t been asked if I was a robot for ages. I took off my watch and showed her my disc. She did the same and the two discs corresponded. We sat there with our left arms entwined, watches dangling in the other hand, and our faces not much more than our focal distance apart. She smelled good. The discs clicked and we disentangled and put our watches on to see what we had got. Her picture was good, and her biofile was unusual, even for London. Irish and Japanese parents (maybe an explanation of the name?) and born in Switzerland on …. exactly the same day as I was born in London! I looked at her as she realised the same thing.

“I was born at 1 minute past midnight.” I said

“No, you weren’t. You made that up.” she said, but she wasn’t sure.

“Well, I might have been. So, are you up for the party?” She laughed.

“You didn’t mind me asking, did you. I thought.... you were so bloody slick going through you might be....” Her voice trailed off in embarrassment. I let her stew for a moment as I thought of a way to move on. I needed to get home – I had been on my way when this had all happened – and needed a shower and food. I looked at the biofile again.

“You live in Wandsworth. My car is around the corner. Do you want a lift?

“Er, sure if you don’t mind. Your house is on the other side of the common. We’re practically neighbours.”

“And the party”

“I’ll tell you when we get to mine.”

The party started about midnight 1-4 time so we hit Hackney Marshes after the pubs shut and I ran the car into some bushes. I jumped out and opened the door for her and she got out looking so good it couldn’t have been achieved without effort. We agreed a spot and slipped into 5. I guessed she hadn’t been to one of these parties before. Her biofile was the minimal public version, not the private one her friends would have, so I had to guess, and I guessed she was a bit sheltered. I couldn’t have been more wrong. I thought I would know most people there, but Red seemed to know everyone, or at least everyone seemed to know Red. Though as yet she had not been to one of these, she had got around and I wondered how I had never even heard of her, never mind met her. I didn’t want to appear to be trying, so I didn’t ask. We were shown up into the guest room and I had a table, not because I am rich or famous, but because the party organisers are my cousins, and this is sort of a family table. The booze and everything else are free, but I don’t drink anymore. Again, when I was younger, I was forever getting plastered, but one New Year’s Eve out by the Aurora Borealis, feeling lonely and somewhat maudlin after a session to beat all sessions, I decided enough was enough. Still, it seems to upset lots of people when I don’t drink, especially when it’s free. I use it as a test. She didn’t raise an eyebrow.

We danced a bit, but she was ultra-wary and it was no fun, so I suggested we watched some old rock & roll footage and we headed into the nostalgia zone. Sometime later someone offered a joint to Red, knowing I didn’t want any. She looked at me and then back at the other guy and waved her hand to refuse.

“What’s wrong?” he shouted in her ear above the sound system.

“Nothing. I don’t feel like it tonight.”

“Suit yourself” he said, looking surprised. He caught my eye and laughed, shaking his head as he offered it to someone else after another quick toke. Red didn’t meet my eyes, but lay back on the cushions beside me and closed her eyes.

A while later Manon came over and sat down.

“Where did you meet Red?” she asked.

“You know her too?”

“Well of course I do, she’s on TV every day”. Then “Of course! You don’t watch TV. She’s the Anchor for Global News.”

“And so, everyone knows her, I guess.” We chatted for a while, catching up. Because I work as a freelance for Special operations, amongst other outfits, I can be away for irregular spells. Because I have the dog, and she can’t come with me all the time, being a bit of a give-away. Manon always looked after her when I was travelling.

It was too loud for much conversation, and Manon indicated the door as we had to arrange picking up Pearl. I touched Red on the shoulder and one eye opened. I mouthed “I’ll be right back.” and went off arm in arm with Manon. Out in the corridor it wasn’t much better so we went back to the table. The crowd was thinning anyway and some very drunk people were being put in a container to sober up before they risked a slip up going back. We made our rendezvous plan and I went back to get Red. She was sitting up and looking somewhat tired as I gave her my hand and pulled her up.

“Time to go home, I think” I said

“I guess it is” she said. As I said my goodbyes Manon said

“See you later, then?”

“In about 40 minutes” I said. Then we went to the door and slipped back to Hackney. I opened the door for her, and as she got in, she said

“If you have other plans for the rest of the evening, drop me at a taxi rank.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, I thought you and that girl....”

“Oh, we have to stop off at Manon’s on the way.”

“Why?”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see.” I said

“I’m not worried” she said, but I think she was, a bit. We travelled in silence. There wasn’t much traffic and we pulled up outside the house a minute or so before Manon even arrived. We sat in the car in silence. I asked her what music she liked, and she waved her hand as if to say ‘Whatever” so I put on a piece I play a lot as I feel it more or less pulled me back from the brink once and it is The Brandenburg Concerto on Moog Synthesisers by a 1970’s group called ELP. It boomed out of the speakers and I turned it down to normal.

“Sorry” I said “I like it loud when I’m on my own.” She snorted. Then Manon pulled up, and saying

“I’ll only be a minute.” I jumped out and went inside with Manon, returning immediately with a very excited Pearl. I opened the back door and she jumped in. I turned to Red.

“This is Pearl. Manon looks after her when I’m working.” Red looked a bit crestfallen. I think she expected a bit more excitement. We drove to Wandsworth and I pulled up. Always an awkward moment but right now I was anxious to get some sleep and I had my first long weekend off in ages to enjoy. I hopped out, opened her door and helped her out. There was a small hiatus after which she said

“Thank you for taking me to the party. I had a good time, but I’m pooped. I have this weekend off to catch up and I’m out on my feet.”

“I’m much the same” I said. “Pearl and I are hitting the coast in the morning, so I’ll say Good Night.” and I kissed her on the cheek. She put her hand on my shoulder as I pulled away, but let it drop.

“Good night” she said. “We must do it again.”

“What?” I said “Go to a party in 5 and sleep?”

“I wasn’t asleep” she said. “I was looking at you.” and she clicked open her door and disappeared inside. Pearl jumped into the front seat and we went home.

That’s it. More next time if anybody is interested

What follows are two bits I came across, almost certainly on the Farnam Street Blog.

Superpowers you can choose:

- Ability to change yourself & your mind
- Not taking things personally
- Not needing to prove you’re right
- Careful selection of all relationships
- Staying calm
- Being alone without being lonely
- Being ok with being uncomfortable
- Thinking for oneself

Therapist Dr. Albert Ellis on how make yourself miserable:

“When you rigidly hold certain irrational beliefs—when you dogmatically command that you must do well, have to be approved by others, have got to have people treat you fairly, and always ought to live with easy and enjoyable conditions—when you stoutly hold these irrational beliefs, you will tend to make yourself needlessly miserable and will probably defeat some of your most cherished goals.”