Chapter 10
James
They enter, and Kate steps up to the counter, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Hello.”
“Hello,” a man with a poorly bleached bowl haircut replies. He wears a completely see-through vinyl tube held up by two thin hot pink canvas straps. James dares a glance down, instantly wishing he hadn’t. Is that supposed to be a fig leaf?
Kate, noting James's horrified expression, reaches forward and runs a glittery nail across a strap. “This is amazing! You must tell me where you found it.” The man blushes, and Kate gets out her device to take down the information and snap a few pictures of him, which he eagerly poses for.
“It gets better!” The man reaches to the trim at his chest, pinching the material, and the whole dress lights up like a movie projector screen, playing a scene of a man standing under a fruit tree, holding up a red sphere and considering it.
A woman struts over to him and plucks it out of his hand.
She takes a large bite and they both start dancing, then the whole scene repeats.
Kate squeals in excitement, breaking out in her own little dance, which the man mimics.
James’s temples pulse to the imaginary beat.
How is this his life now? He’s ready to go back to her unit and lock himself in the spare room for a few hours to escape the chaos that is the future.
But a dog—maybe that will offer some semblance of normalcy in the sea of insanity he’s wading through.
Barney, his Irish Setter, was one of the few things that could mellow him out when his mood was getting the better of him.
Maybe they could even take Broccoli back to her apartment.
It’s strange that she didn’t already have it at home, but she might have boarded it to get through the manupartner activation process.
It’s what he did with Barney before he left on that last fateful trip. When he never came to pick Barney up, did the vet contact his parents or his sister? A sick feeling tightens his stomach. Barney was a great dog. Someone would have found him a good home and taken care of him.
This is the last thing he should worry about.
His goals should be his focus. But so far in this world, he’s only encountered businesses that would be categorized as consumables or aesthetic services.
But surely there is a financial services industry.
He makes a mental note to ask Kate about this later.
When the dance party seems like it’s never going to end, James interjects, “Excuse me. We’re here to see my friend’s dog.” James raises a brow as the man shifts his attention to him.
They both stop dancing abruptly. “Yes, okay.” He somberly returns to his tablet. “ID Number?”
Kate gives him her information and signs a digital ticket. “Would it be possible to get stall twenty-seven? It’s my favorite.”
Naturally, after the dance party, the man is all too happy to relocate its current occupants so Kate can have the spot. When he comes back, he proudly leads the way to the stall. All the while, the biblical scene on his dress replays over and over.
When the man finally leaves them, James glances around the small cube.
His eyes land on what might be a dog-shaped hobby horse.
Except it lacks detail. He glances at Kate, waiting for her to tell him this is some type of joke, but she’s handing him a crystal VR headset.
He takes it, then she puts hers on and drops to her knees next to the furry stick thing.
“Who’s my good boy?!” she croons. “Yes, my Broccoli is so happy to see his momma. Does Broccoli want a cookie?”
James watches with something that feels a lot like horror as Kate lifts an invisible cookie to the stick thing, petting the faux fur with her other hand.
“Yes, that was so good, wasn’t it? Such a good boy.”
Kate strokes it, happily bobbing with each bit of praise she delivers.
Her joy is so pure as she plays with the fake animal.
The picture before him makes her seem untainted by the callous reality he’s experienced.
It’s a mind-bending juxtaposition with the way she oozes sex appeal.
His brain hurts. He needs a drink, or a bed, or both.
“James,” she says. “Don’t you want to meet Broccoli?”
No, James doesn’t. He wants to run out into the atmosphere and end this nightmare. But he remembers how his lungs felt, and the fear of dying hits him a second time.
He’s landed in purgatory. He knows that it’s not quite hell because his clothes don’t itch and the song playing lightly overhead has a folksy feel to it. It’s well-known that hell plays 2000s country music and provides wool onesies.
Yet, a world without dogs? Because that’s what this means.
No dogs. Probably few or no other animals, too.
He can’t wrap his mind around the far-reaching implications, like the food system or forest ecosystems. Are the oceans dead too?
He’s going to be sick if he doesn’t get some air.
But that isn’t even an option. Are the walls getting nearer?
He wipes a sleeve across his brow, collecting the moisture beaded there.
Since he woke up, he’s been slowly adjusting.
But to think so many things he loves about the world are gone .
. . Warm rays of sunshine on his skin. Barney’s soft copper fur.
His happy brown eyes. The scent of a pine forest or a crisp winter day.
A dip in a brisk ocean. All of it, gone.
For the first time, the true nature of his reality hits with a force that nearly sends him to his knees. He’s trapped in the future and he doesn’t have a lifeline.
“James?” Kate’s concern softens her voice.
James eyes the hallway that leads to the exit. “I’m sorry, Kate. I can’t do this. It’s too much. I’ll wait for you in the hall.”
Then he turns to flee.
By the time they make it back to her unit, the packages have already been delivered. The smartwaiter is full and each time they empty it, it refills.
James is exhausted. Ready to retreat into the four concrete walls of his barren room in an apartment he doesn’t even own, a feeling that seemed impossible only yesterday.
Yet as he grabs a few boxes and heads to his room, his shoulders loosen.
They’d loosen even more if he could get out of this ridiculous fitted ensemble.
If he has to spend another minute wearing it, he’ll lose it.
His temper is already precariously close to snapping and his cheerful companion isn’t helping.
“What happened back there? Visiting the dog park always makes me feel better when I’m upset. Do you not like dogs?” When he doesn’t respond, she adds, “Maybe we’ll try something else tomorrow.”
All day, her cheerfulness has seemed to compound, as if to combat his foul mood. He’s not sure how much more he can take.
“James, what do you like to do?”
He stops, slowly turning to her. How can he possibly explain what he’s experiencing to this woman? “Everything about today has been incredibly unsettling. From meeting several manupartners, to walking between buildings with a respirator. And this awful outfit.”
“And dogs?” she presses.
James eyes her as she frowns. Not wanting to be cruel, he’s reluctant to mention why the dog park nearly sent him over the edge.
The modern human experience is so vacant that people have to resort to a simulation of a pet.
Despite his reputation as a ruthless and single-minded entrepreneur, even he had a pet dog.
He grimaces, and Kate studies him intently.
He can’t handle being coddled, so he waves her off.
“It’s fine. I had a dog in the past.” Go ahead, make your assumptions.
Let’s leave it at that. “I just need to get into something more comfortable and get some food. Then sleep and pray this all was a nightmare.”
Kate’s lips form the shape of an O that she covers with a hand. “Wow, James, I didn’t know. Seeing Broccoli must have upset you. I imagine if I’d woken up in your world, I’d be feeling the same. But think of the bright side—”
“What do you think the bright side is for me, Kate?”
She only stares at him, mouth snapping shut.
“Yesterday I discovered that at thirty-five, which at the time would have been considered my prime, I died when my plane crash-landed on a bluff. Then, by some magical twist of fate, a drunk woman ordered my DNA to be injected into a manupartner kit, which malfunctioned and brought me back to life. Now everyone I know is dead. Everything I had is gone. And the future is so bizarre it’s making my fucking head spin.
But believe me, I’m trying my fucking hardest to make the best of it.
I’ve been given another opportunity to try to make something of myself—I know that—but don’t act like you have any idea what I’m going through.
” He steps into the spare room, slamming the door in her face.
He realizes she’s only trying to help, but he needs a minute alone to gather his composure.
But first, change. He peels his way out of the clothing, discarding it in a pile in the corner.
A minute later, he has a loose pair of pajama pants on.
He sorts through the items he unceremoniously dumped on to the bed.
There are a few other pairs of pajama pants, along with some boxer briefs, but no T-shirts.
They must be in another package. He eyes the door as if it’s an affront to his person.
He’ll have to venture out to retrieve the rest of the packages.
God, the thought of having to confront her smiling face again.
She’ll have probably thought of a clever retort by now.
Bracing himself, he exits the room, making a beeline to the stack of bags and boxes. He feels Kate’s eyes on him before he even turns to confirm. As he addresses her with an annoyed glare, her eyes dip to the waistband of the pajama pants and lower.
She swallows before redirecting her stare to meet his. “Those are nice.”