Clockwork Dolls
Page 2
Dave nodded.
“Clockwork dolls, the lot of us.”
“But who makes the dolls?”
“Why do you need a maker?”
“Why don’t you need a maker?”
Dave laughed out loud.
“Any god capable of engineering all the organized complexity in the world must already be hugely complex in the first place. So arguing for the existence of a maker just moves the discussion back a step; you’re still postulating organized complexity without offering an explanation. There’s plenty of evidence that nature doesn’t need an organizing principle. The basic laws of physics and chemistry are enough for life to find a way.”
“A blind watchmaker?”
Dave nodded again.
“And what about love?”
Dave looked at Jane, then quickly away again.
“An anomaly brought about by the necessary complexity of the biochemical systems required to maintain our bodies.”
“Now I see. You rationalize the pain you inflict with your bad attitude by seeing your victims as empty shells. To you, we are little more than sacks of shit and blood.”
Dave waited to see if Jane would interject, stand up for him once more. But it seemed this time he was on his own.
“Now you’re beginning to understand,” he said.
Maggie looked at him, and he had to look away from the pity he saw in her eyes.
“I believe I am,” she said. “And I believe I was right. You do need to ask the Cosmos for a life.”
“Now we get to it,” Dave said, taking a deep gulp of Scotch. “Bring out the trowels, there’s bullshit to be spread.”
Maggie sighed, but kept going, turning away from Dave and addressing herself to Jane.
“The theory goes that if you make a request to the universe in the right way, then the Cosmos will grant your wish.”
Dave held his tongue this time, but it seemed the whisky had loosened Jim’s.
“It pains me to say this,” he said. “But I’m with Dave on this one. It sounds like more Californian BS claptrap to me.”
Dave and Jim clinked their glasses together. Dave was about to say more, but was stopped again by a sharp glance from Jane. She finished bandaging his wound.
“There. All better.”
Dave flexed the bandaged hand and smiled sheepishly. But Jane had already turned away to listen to Maggie.
“Never underestimate the power of the universe,” Maggie said.
“Oh, I’m very careful around huge inanimate objects…they might fall on me,” Dave said, earning him another of those looks from Jane.
At least she’s noticing me.
“Maybe we should give it a go sometime?” Jane said.
Dave took a large gulp of whisky.
“To hell with sometime. There’s no time like the present.”
He turned to Maggie.
“What do we have to do?”
Maggie looked at Dave and smiled.
“It could be dangerous,” she said.
There looked to be a hint of sadness in her eyes, and maybe condescension. That only served to push Dave into more taunts.
“It’s put up or shut up time…or are you all mouth?”
Maggie looked across at Dave, and this time the anger was obvious.
“OK. Let’s do it. Can I have some paper and pens please, Jane? And do you have four envelopes?”
While Jane was away, Dave and Jim helped each other to more of the whisky. Dave was getting a buzz on again, and the pain from his hand had dulled to a mild ache. He knew he’d pay for it in the morning.
But that’s nothing new.
A minute later they all had pens and paper in front of them on the table.
Dave pretended to write while reciting sotto voce.
Dear Cosmos. Fuck off and die.
“Dave!”
That came from Jane.
“Live long and prosper?” Dave said, and Maggie laughed.
“Better. But that’s still not couched properly.” She paused and looked at the other three. “The thing to remember is that you should ask directly, say please, and ask for something you really want, something you have your mind set on.”
Dave snorted.
“What a load of old crap.”
Maggie looked about ready to take his head off.
“Just remind me. Whose idea was this?” she said.
The other three started writing. Dave stared at the blank paper.
“Tell me again…how is this supposed to work?”
Maggie began as if reciting something she’d read.
“The universe is more than just a collection of atoms. Advances in physics have proved that. A particle can also be a wave form, and Heisenberg showed us that the particle’s state could be changed just by looking at it. Nothing can be observed without the observer having an influence. And that influence is what has created the universe that we perceive around us. In many ways it is a construct of our minds. The collective subconscious acts as a filter through which we create the consensual reality that we all experience. When we ask the Cosmos for a favour, we are really asking ourselves for a way to change our view of reality to one that is more favorable.”
Dave laughed loudly.
“Ah, psychobabble. I recognize that. I remember when…”
Maggie’s chair screeched on the floor as she pushed it backward in anger.
Dave laughed again. Jane put a hand on Maggie’s arm and gently motioned her back into her chair before turning to Dave.
“Oh for God’s sake, Dave, let’s just get on with it.”
Jane started writing again, tongue between her lips as she concentrated. Dave watched her then wrote.
“Please Cosmos, I want Jane Barr.”
Jim leaned over and filled Dave’s glass.
“Have some more, Dave. It’s the one you got me for Christmas.”
Dave looked, from Jane to Jim and back again. Disgusted with himself, he scratched out what he’d written, and replaced it with one sentence that he wrote so feverishly that his new bandage went from white to red and two fresh drops of blood fell to the paper to be incorporated into his handwriting.
Finished, he looked up to see that the others had also written their wishes.
“I’ll show you mine if you’ll show me yours?” he said to Jane.
Maggie was insistent.
“No. You mustn’t let anyone else know. Fold your papers up, and put them in here.” She gave each of them an envelope. “I’ll pop them in a post box for us all.”
They all did as she told them.
“Who do we address it to? Sanity Claus?” Dave said. He left a smear of fresh blood on the envelope trying to get the sheaf of paper inside.
“No need,” Maggie said, collecting the four envelopes. “The Cosmos knows where each needs to go.” She checked her watch. “Speaking of which…I’ve got to be going too.”
“Nonsense,” Dave said, making for the whisky bottle. “The night is yet young…”
Jane spoke softly.
“It’s half past one, Dave. Some of us need to get to work in the morning.”
June 11th
“I can’t be doing with this Twilight Zone nonsense,” the cop said.
Dave smiled.
“That’s just about what I said. But let me show you something.”
He put a hand in his shirt pocket. The cop flinched, and reached for where his gun would normally be.
“Relax,” Dave said. “This is something by way of a demonstration, something Maggie showed me earlier, before…before…”
He couldn’t finish the thought. Instead he took something from the pocket, a crystal hanging on the end of a chain.
“I’ll try to remember all her exact words,” he said. “It might be important…later.”
He let the crystal hang on the end of the chain.
“Everything has a natural rhythm,” he said. “The Earth spins once a day, goes around the sun once a year. The moon
goes round the earth every 28 days. Your heart beats in a rhythm particular only to you. Everything has its drumbeat and everything contributes to the dance. You’ve just got to know when to lead and when to follow.”
“I told you,” the cop said. “No BS…”
Dave leaned over the table. The cop flinched again, but allowed Dave to let the crystal hang between them. It hung straight down, unmoving.
“Put your hand below it,” Dave said. “Palm up. Come on. Humor me. It’s all relevant.”
The cop did as Dave asked.
The crystal started to move. First it swayed from side to side then slowly started to spin in a circle that widened until it rotated slowly above his hand.
“Take your hand away,” Dave said.
Again the cop complied.
The crystal stopped moving and went back to hanging dead on the end of the chain.
“Now you try it,” Dave said, handing the cop the chain.
The cop took the crystal and held it by the chain. The crystal hung dead until he put his hand under it, whereupon it immediately started to spin in a circle. When he took his hand away, the crystal went dead again.
The cop examined the crystal and the chain.
“Do you know what she said when I did that? You’re looking at the dancer rather than the dance. Now, hold it over the water.” Dave said.
The cop did as he was asked. The crystal swung in a much wider circle this time.
“Everything has a beat. Even water,” Dave said.
“I think I’ve heard of this,” the cop said. “It’s dowsing, isn’t it?”
Dave shook his head.
“Not quite. According to Maggie, a dowsing rod responds to electromagnetic fields. This is more of a mechanism for accessing innate rhythms. Your unconscious makes slight adjustments to your muscles in response to the rhythms, and these are amplified and turned into rotational movement by spin vectors being produced in your fingertips. The same as dowsing, but different, if you get my meaning?”
“This is just a stupid parlor trick. It has to be,” the cop said. Even before he’d finished the sentence, the crystal started to move again, side to side at first, then settling down into a tight three-inch circle.
“That doesn’t prove anything,” the cop said.
“No. But it is indicative of something. It gives me hope, that there is more to life than just blood and flesh, that there might just be a point beyond staying alive as long as possible.”
“I hope this is all leading somewhere, son,” the cop said, handing the crystal back over the table. Dave put it away in his pocket.
“I just wanted you to understand how Maggie’s mind works. It took me a while to get there myself, but it was worth it.”
The cop sighed.
“More bullshit. I’m getting mighty tired of this.”
Dave sat down in the chair, suddenly weary.
“Back to business then. I’m just telling you it as it happened. And that’s how it went, that first night. I got drunk and made an ass of myself. Nothing new there. But that was how it all started,” Dave said. “I heard on the grapevine that they’d done it all again with another couple of my friends, Frank and Liz, several days later. I hadn’t been invited to that one…persona non grata and all that happy shit. But by the time June came around, I was forgiven and invited round to a barbecue. That’s when things began to get seriously fucked up.”
June 5th
Dave walked through a well-tended garden on a hot summer’s day, heading for the back of the Barr’s house. He carried a box of beer under one arm, and a bag containing two bottles of Scotch in the other hand. Even then he wasn’t sure he’d brought enough booze to get him through the day.
He heard the sound of laughter coming from the patio at the side of the house, and almost turned and left. There were days when he wanted company for drinking. Today wasn’t necessarily one of them. Then he thought of Jane.
I can’t let her down. Not again.
He followed the sound of laughter. Jim Barr stood at the big gas cooker wearing a chef’s apron; turning chunks of meat with a pair of tongs. The others, Jane, Frank and Liz, and Maggie, were all seated at a long table.
“We must stop meeting like this.” Maggie said, sneering when she saw Dave walk up the path.
“Maybe it would be better if we just stopped meeting?” Dave replied. He’d had a few beers and a whisky stiffener before even leaving the house and was in no mood to be polite to an obvious nutjob. But as ever, Jane was able to calm him down, at least to a semblance of politeness.
“Dave! Be good. Please?” was all she had to say.
Dave looked over at her, and softened slightly.
“OK. Just this once. But who is this woman, and why does she keep following me?”
“I told you last time…she’s new in town…”
“So is Walmart, but you don’t invite it over to lunch.”
“Please, Dave? I thought she might be somebody you could talk to.”
“I’ll give her a mercy fuck if that’s what she’s after.”
Jane was struck speechless, but Maggie laughed it off.
“I prefer my men to be capable of standing up…if you get my meaning?”
Jane giggled awkwardly, but Dave showed no sign of registering Maggie’s remark.
“Who needs a beer?” he said.
* * *
The meal went the same way as most of Dave’s recent lunches. They all had near-finished plates of food by the end, except for him. He hardly ate, but had a small forest of empty beer bottles in front of him. Once again, he was getting drunk twice as fast as anyone else at the table.
Jim and Jane sat close together, and he saw that Jane kept fondling the back of Jim’s neck. Dave looked pointedly away, taking a long swig of beer. At the same time, Maggie moved her seat closer to Dave and leaned over towards him.
“So what do you do, Dave, out in the real world? When you’re not getting smashed that is?”
Dave took another swig before answering, and when he did it came out too glib, as if it was a line he’d prepared earlier.
“I wheel shitty trolleys around shitty hospital corridors and watch good people die,” he said, and the anger in his voice was evident. “But what’s this about the real world? I thought you didn’t believe in that?”
“What gave you that idea? My personal interface with the Cosmos is the realest thing I know.”
“And what about the rest of us? Are we allowed to play as well, or is it all for you?”
Dave took another swig of beer. He was talking for the sake of it, not really interested. Maggie, however, seemed pleased to have at least got him listening.
“Do you know anything about Zen?” she asked.
It was Dave’s turn to laugh.
“Only from re-runs of Kung Fu.”
“Well, Grasshopper,” Maggie said. “Everything is one, and one is everything.”
“I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together?” Dave said.
“Yes,” Maggie replied. “We are the egg men. All together in one huge womb that is the Universe, the macrocosm. You mentioned quantum theory at dinner the last time. So you know already, all we are, all everything is, is energy and vibration, light and shadow.”
Despite himself, Dave started to enjoy the conversation.
“I’ll give you that one. Random acts among sub-atomic particles at the quantum level. That’s what drives the Universe.”
“And where we differ, is that I believe it’s not so random,” Maggie said. ”In the same way that a magnifying glass can focus light into a spot that burns as bright as a sun, so the human brain can act as a lens, focusing emotion and will to create changes in its environment.”
Dave laughed.
“That’s just wishful thinking.”
“In a way, yes, but it works. I’ve seen it.”
“Like that shit we did last month?” He raised his voice so the rest of the group could hear. “How di
d that work out? Has the Cosmos been listening?”
No one replied so Dave ploughed on.
“Come on, tell us. Has anybody won the lottery? Has anybody suddenly become handsome?” He turned to Liz. “I can guess what you asked for, Liz. Ready to pop one out yet?”
Jim waved a beer bottle towards Dave.
“Enough already, Dave. You’re being a dick again.”
“He’s not even that interesting,” Maggie said. “A girl could have some fun with a dick.”
They all laughed, except for Dave
“At least I’m still rational,” he said, too loudly, still letting the drink do his talking for him. “What about you lot? It looks like your Cosmos isn’t listening.”
Frank was the one to break the awkward silence.
“Well, that might not be strictly true,” he said.
“And what might that mean?” Dave said sarcastically.
“Our envelopes came back,” Liz said.
* * *
Dave’s booze-addled brain refused to provide a witty comeback. It didn’t look like anything he could say would phase Liz anyway. She was smiling broadly.
The cat that got the cream.
“We got the news this morning, right after we found that the Cosmos had replied.”
Dave was too astonished to speak. He looked around to see if this was maybe all a practical joke they’d agreed to play on him before he turned up. But Frank too had a wide grin on his face.
“You tell them,” he said to Liz.
Liz looked down and rubbed her belly.
“We’re going to have a baby.”
Again the booze made Dave speak without thinking.
“No fucking way.”
Frank smiled.
“What other way is there?”
Jane stood and gave Liz a hug.
“I’m so happy for you both.”
Liz looked across the table.
“We’ve got Maggie to thank. The Cosmos came through for us.”
Dave stopped drinking his beer in mid-gulp.
“Now hold on a minute…”
“What else could it be?” Frank said.