I walked up to the house. Was this a bad idea? Most likely. But it had to be done. I still had a key to the place but I rang the doorbell and waited. “Sharps!” Mother looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing here? In the middle of the day?”
“How do you know Ava Jane Jaccari?” I didn’t mean to shout, and she flinched.
“In a mood, are you?” she said. “Fine, come in.”
I marched into the living room and stopped dead.
“Plants!” I said. “What the fuck, Mother?”
“Language, Sharps,” she said. “Are you going to report me? Turn your own mother in for an illegal hibiscus?”
But it wasn’t just one plant. The room was full of them. It was a veritable jungle.
“Have you lost your mind?” I asked. Gardening was against a whole slew of decrees by the Sacred Board. Astroturf ruled. Real grass was declared a noxious weed. Green belts had been cleared to make room for suburban mansions. Trees were replaced by tall slim plastic chimneys that inhaled carbon dioxide and exhaled oxygen. The blue-and-green candy cane trees were pretty, with stencilled leaves for artwork. Plant Guards patrolled, looking for rogue weeds and plants and eradicating them with poisons. Parks were filled with sculpted evergreen faux topiaries and lush, exotic flowers as large as dinner plates and as colourful as souvenirs from Mexico or Spain. Birds had long since died, falling from the sky, their tiny corpses quickly incinerated by Anti-Nature Guards. Bees and butterflies became extinct, and we didn’t even notice until one day they were simply gone. The oceans and lakes were vast lukewarm baths, devoid of fish, coral, or seaweed. Mother Nature tried to fight back. Tendrils, roots, bushes, and branches fought their way into the drinking water and pushed through the plastic asphalt, but the guards were vigilant in their eradication duties.
But gardening? Mother had lost her mind.
She sighed.
“This is why you didn’t want me to visit with Bax!” I said. “You’re gardening! How long have you been doing this?”
“I started as soon as I could dissuade you from visiting,” Mother said and she sat down in between two potted ferns.
“Where did you even get them?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Sharps! I may be getting on in years but I know how to find my way around the world! Has it never occurred to you that this plantless world is an aberration? Don’t you ever miss nature? You grew up in it—real grass, real trees, flowers.”
“I can honestly say I never missed it. Oh shit, Mother.”
I sat down and looked at her.
“And as for Ava Jane Jaccari, she and I met at a writing workshop.”
That Mother was a writer further stumped me, and she saw that. “I’m going to make some tea while you process all of this for a bit.”
I sat and tried to make sense of what she’d said. And what was I going to do about the plants? Minnie had decreed that plants were evil, that they were trying to take over the world, destroy mankind, and take back the earth. Minnie said plants possessed an innate DNA that made them want to survive in a way that put our species at risk. The Anti-Nature Guards would incinerate Mother’s entire house with her in it if they found out.
“I’m moving them out of here soon,” Mother said, returning with a tray. “Do stop worrying. You won’t have to do anything. Put this out of your head.”
It was hard to do, but I had more important matters to worry about than illegal foliage. I studied a small rose bush and sniffed it. It was pleasant. And when I touched the flower, it felt different from the fake replicas; it was soft and silky, and it smelled amazing. I stroked it and then jerked back. What was I doing?
When I looked up, Mother was holding out a small book and I took it from her.
“Single Girls Go Mad Sooner. You wrote this?” It was a slim volume with Ruben’s Hero and Leander descending into their watery depths on the cover.
“I did.” She laughed. “It’s pretty bad. I wrote it while I was at university. It’s a bit of a rant, but it proved quite popular.”
“Why do single girls go mad sooner? Doesn’t that imply that all women go mad?”
“They do when they are forced to follow the mandates and dictates of mankind. You see that, Sharps? ‘Man’dates. ‘Dick’tates. ‘Man’kind. Do you see the subliminal patriarchal influences we are all subjected to from the very time of our birth? Young women, particularly in my day, were encouraged to get married and have children. It was our primary purpose, our ultimate destiny. Anything else was considered meaningless. But the quest to communicate with men, to find a partner, to have a meaningful relationship took its toll. Single girls had to go on countless dates and endure more of those awful encounters, to the point where they thought they were insane. In fact, they were simply trying to connect with a species ill-equipped to reciprocate in either thought or emotion. Finally, exhausted, the girl either capitulated with the most suitable partner she could find, or she became weary and gave in to whoever was nearest. In so doing, she finally became a woman in the eyes of the patriarchal world. But look what she gave up. She agreed to a lifelong sentence of being misunderstood and subjugated.”
“I see.” I didn’t, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. I bent over slightly in my chair as if my dick needed protecting and Mother laughed. “See how instinctively you react? Must protect the precious family jewels above all.”
“But,” she said and she was serious, “I loved you. Above all else, I wanted to be a good mother but I failed. I must have failed you since you are so unhappy. I take responsibility for being a bad mother. But I tried. I really did. And yet still, I failed.”
“I’m not unhappy,” I objected miserably, uncomfortable with the way the entire conversation was going. “And you were a good mother. But right now, what’s more important to me is Ava. She wants to bring down Minnie and destroy this world.”
“Don’t we all?”
I must have looked horrified because she laughed. “Oh, Sharps, look at you. You see. That’s what I mean. You don’t think. You just accept. You accept your job and the world as it is; you accept the drones that control the satellites that control the weather, and you accept the rampant materialism and self-obsession and vacuity and vanity and greed. And not only do you accept it, you propagate it! You package, market, and sell it! You see what I mean about not thinking?”
“But there’s nothing we can do about it! I’d do something if I could! You think I don’t worry about Bax’s future? And whatever other kids we have? Of course I worry!”
“Not enough to do anything. Only enough to try to keep up. How do you know about Ava’s manifesto?”
“Jazza fell in love with her. They had an affair.”
“And she told him about it? She must have fallen for him, poor girl. And he told you about it. Hmmm. And of course she found out that he had.”
I told her everything. She leaned back and folded her arms. “I’m surprised at Ava,” she said. “Trusting a man. After what your father-in-law did to her mother.”
“You knew about that?”
“Ava told me. I think she sees me as a surrogate mother and I’m very fond of her. She’s going to do great things with her life, you’ll see.”
“Yeah, like increase the amount of women who buy useless shit for their useless lives,” I said, and Mother shook her head.
“Give her time, Sharps. Rome wasn’t rebuilt in a day.”
“How come you discourage me from writing when you write?” I asked her, and she looked surprised.
“I didn’t,” she said. “What made you think that? Your father said that.”
“I was ten when he disappeared! Or left or whatever you’d have me think. I don’t think I’d remember what he said.”
“Oh, you remembered. A bunch of your therapists all commented about how scarred you were from your relationship with him. I’m sorry about that.�
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I shrugged. I didn’t want Mother feeling sorry for me about anything. “Why did you marry him?” I asked. “An unlikely combination, really.”
“He was so handsome! Like a movie star: lantern jaw, big muscled man! I saw him coming out of a swimming pool, the sparkles catching on him like he was ablaze. And he walked straight up to me! I was a looker in those days, Sharps,with legs longer than the month of May. I got caught up in the romance of it all. I never thought about what They Lived Happily Ever After even meant. I thought it was a given. But you know how well that worked out. I fell in love. It happens, Sharps. And one day, it will happen to you too.”
“I’m already a very happily married man, Mother,” I said wearily. “So, back to you and Ava. A writing group. How long have you known her?”
“About ten years.”
“You met her the same time you kicked me out?”
“Around then, but that had nothing to do with Ava. Well, it did in that I wanted to reconnect with who I was, Sharps, and yes, that was part of what my writing group advocated.”
“They told you to kick me out?”
“It wasn’t them; it was me. I realized it wasn’t healthy for me to have you live with me any more. You were a grown man. Listen, Sharps, this is tedious, to be honest. Okay, so I know Ava and now you’ve met my plants. You know my worst secrets. Anything else?”
“Do you have a copy of Ava’s manifesto?”
She laughed. “No, and you can tell Mr. Williamson that from me, if that’s why you came.” She stood up. “While it’s been a nice visit, you need to leave now. And if you so much as touch one of my flowers, I’ll face-plant you on the carpet.”
I followed her to the front door. I stood on the step and faced her. I wanted to say something that would change our relationships for the better, forever, but I couldn’t think of anything. She patted me gently on the shoulder and closed the door.
13. SUCKING IT UP
THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED WERE AWKWARD, to say the least. Jazza returned from his brain scour. He was mean and bitter but more brilliant than ever.
They moved the three of us into a boardroom and closed the door. Daddy had one parting shot before he left. “God helps those who help themselves,” he said. “But if you ask me, may God help you.” He gave me a meaningful glance and left. I had the most to lose, and everyone in the room knew it.
The Board had given us every manner of research and design equipment imaginable. We were in a giant lab. Display panels flashed statistics, ratios, trends, and images. Consumer holograms filled the room, walking among us, pointing, laughing, and buying. These were our Targeted Consumers, our TCs. But what were we going to sell them?
Another floor-to-ceiling wall screened reruns of our previous campaigns, flashing in all their brilliance. Of course, there too, with it’s own special display, was MDoggHotBody with a massive rubberstamp FAIL at the centre, in a disaster font. As if I needed reminding.
And there we were, the three of us, silent. I wanted to run, but I had nowhere to go.
Ava got up and placed three silver pyramid paperweights on our desks. “Scrambles the audio,” she barked at me. “They’ll hear a script that will keep them happy, a bot-collected dialogue from other meetings. We can say whatever we want.” I wasn’t sure why she was even speaking to me.
Jazza flipped a switch, and floor-to-ceiling blinds shut down the room. My throat closed with panic, but he waved at me. “Door’s open, run away any time you like.”
Then he swung around to Ava and glowered. The gloves had come off. “You bitch,” he said to Ava. “You hacked into my personal optics. I was scoured because of you.”
“You told him my secrets,” she fired back. “I told you not to trust him. I told you not to tell anybody.”
“But you hacked into me first! I trusted you!”
They came out from behind their desks and faced each other, Ava seemingly the same height as him, such was her voltage.
Meanwhile Jazza looked shaky, Frankenstein’s monster hoping someone would throw him a bone.
But Ava wasn’t in the mood to play nice. “Yeah? Well, I hacked into you hoping you’d prove me wrong. But you proved me right. You told him everything. All he had to say was, ‘Jazza, I’m so stressed,’ like a big cry baby, and you leapt into his lap like the good little puppy dog you are. You’re just like every other dickhead on the planet. A total waste of space.”
Ava clenched her fists at her side, and they started shouting. I realized she must have hacked into Jazza’s audio the night he and I met in the bar and she was none too happy about him spilling the beans. I tried to tune them out. I held my hands over my ears, feeling as childish as Bax. How had it come to this?
“It fucking hurt to be scoured,” I heard Jazza shout. “And it was all because of you! I don’t feel like me anymore! I feel…” He stumbled and fell silent.
“You deserve the pain,” Ava snarled at him, baring her teeth like a tiny Rottweiler.
It occurred to me that the thing they wanted the most was to rip each other’s clothes off and have crazy sex on the floor. I felt uncomfortable even being in the room, and I decided to try to diffuse the situation.
“Tell us, how do you feel, Jazza?” I asked soothingly, into the silence that had fallen. I kept my voice low, using the same strategy that many a therapist had tried on me. “It must have been very harrowing for you.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up,” Jazza said. He threw a Fluffsqueak at me, and I caught it neatly with one hand.
“Hey,” I said, “You wanna play Slam the Squeak?” I held the blameless Fluffsqueak high. We used to make basketball nets and throw activated squeaks into them, finding their simulated pain squeals hilarious.
“No. I fucking do not want to play Slam. I do not want to fucking do anything with you fucking ever again.”
Okey dokey.
“Well, we can’t have our asses fired,” Ava pointed out, and she sat down behind her desk. “We’ve only got nine months. We’d better get a move on.”
“I know what we’ve got to do,” Jazza muttered. Ava replied but it was drowned by Celeste’s voice in my head.
Sweetie! It’s time for u to take me to the spa! I hope u didn’t forget?
Shit. How had she bipassed my audioblock? Had she heard everything Daddy had said? It was best not to think about it.
“It’s Celeste,” I said to Jazza, and then replied to her.
No, hon, I didn’t forget. I’ll be right there.
And u have to take Lila to the clinic. Flashing u the address.
Yep, I knew that too. I’m on my way.
I swiped her incoming data out of my peripheral vision, wishing I could swipe my life away.
“I gotta go,” I said, and Ava snorted.
“Just like you,” she said. Jazza nodded without looking at me.
“Meanwhile we’ll stay here and do all the real work,” he said.
I’d had enough. “You know what, Jazza?” I yelled. “Man the fuck up. You fucked up, or you fucked down or sideways.Your PrivaKarmaSutra’s none of my business….”
“Kama, not karma,” Ava corrected me, and I glared at her.
“Whatever. I’ve got no idea what positions you guys got into, but you both fucked up, not me.” I looked at Ava. “Neither of you guys like me, and you sure as shit don’t respect me. But let’s not forget one thing. I’m in charge, so we will all play nice. As much as you two are the brains, trust me, I’ve got a role to play and you know that I deliver what I need to, when I need to. So let’s behave with some cordiality, how’s that? We all on board?”
They nodded, and peace flooded my system like the sweet scent of BleachBuddy. Jazza would figure out how to make money. Ava would figure out how to get it to armies of eager women. And I’d ride that wave while taking care of my boy and keeping my wife in rehab for as lon
g as I could. I felt a lot more cheerful than I had in a long time.
I tried to dial up Mother to tell her that despite her beliefs to the contrary, I really was very happy with my life. She didn’t take the call, and all I got was a widely grinning hologram that was so unlike Mother. The hologram informed me that Mother was out of town and not to leave a message. Out of town? For real? I bet it had to do with her gardening. She was putting herself in danger, and while she’d clearly washed her hands of me, I still loved her.
And now she had disappeared. Great. I added that to my list of things to follow up on.
I settled into my lava-lamp seat inside my bubble car and got ready to face Celeste. She, in preparation for her journey, would be soaked in a hundred-proof spiced rum. I’d drop her off and have Bax all to myself. Things were going to be just fine.
I got Celeste settled into her spa, delivered Lila to the clinic, and then played with Bax to my heart’s content.
I returned to the office the following day with trepidation. To my surprise, peace prevailed and what’s more, they even had a plan.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Ava told me. “The PeachDiamondDelux Program. You won’t understand it, so don’t even try. Just sign where Jazza tells you to. I’ll work my magic, and we’ll all get out of this hell, you to your new baby—and yes, we all know all about that—me back to my nice big private office, and Jazza will do whatever it is he wants to do with the rest of his life. Got it?”
Taken aback, I nodded.
“We’re going to flash ads everywhere, Sharps, on every wall and building. We’re assuming control of personal Crystal Path viewing. All viewed content will henceforth be sponsored. Through the viewer’s eye, the world’s going to look like a kaleidescope of logos tossed its cookies in Real Life Las Vegas, but it’ll work and we’ll generate the revenue we’ve been tasked with.”
It sounded unthinkably ugly. “You’re turning the world into a virtual catalogue? That kind of hard sell is illegal! Advertising has to be hidden, experience-driven! That’s how123BlikiWin, ClothesKissezThugs, and CrystalMeBooty worked! We never advertised directly! It was all about being a player in the game! Direct merch sales are banned!”
The Rage Room Page 9
