by Matt Moss
Two other kids run up to her, and Carla takes off after them.
“Looks like Carla made some new friends,” Jenny says happily.
I was like that once. Carefree and full of life. But life has a way of beating you down. Just as persistent waters pound on rock, time erodes away at you and the next thing you know, you’re on the closer half of seventy. Working for the man takes priority, determining how you spend your time and who you spend it with. Hell, I see the guys at work more than I do my own family on a daily basis. Something about that just doesn’t seem right to me.
And time keeps ticking.
The days and the weeks seem like a slog, but the years fly by—something the old-timers have always told me. Living as long as I have, I now have to say that I agree with them. And now that I’ve lived long enough to grow a little wiser, I can feel the years speeding up as I get older. On a calendar they look linear, but I swear it’s more of an exponential gain.
Jenny’s grabbing us a couple of hotdogs from a food truck, and Ben’s staring at his phone. If it’s not television or video games at the house, it’s the damn cellphone. Always looking at a screen. It wasn’t how I grew up, and I thought I would give him the same upbringing. Suppose times change and you can’t give them everything you’d like. Jenny wanted him to have a phone. Says it’s for his safety. At least he has a part-time job to pay for it.
Sunday is family day. And it’s over in the blink of an eye, spent largely in part by dreading the beginning of a new work week.
Sunday night, my wife and I watch TV in the bed. Don’t say a whole lot. Both knowing we gotta work tomorrow.
Monday.
Mondays are a bitch.
2
A NEW LIFE
I’ve always been good with machines. I can operate anything from an eighteen-wheeler to an excavator. If it drives, digs, or hauls, I can handle it. My last foreman has been moving dirt for over thirty years, and told me that I’m one of the best operators he’s ever seen.
This new foreman is an asshole.
Now the little asshole with his short comb-over hair is pointing at my window with a clipboard and giving me a stupid look. I turn the machine off, open the cab door, and jump onto the soggy, wet ground.
He basically yells at me. “What the hell’s going on? This was supposed to be graded by last Wednesday.”
I want to punch him in the face. Instead, I give an exaggerated look around the job site. “Been raining the past two weeks. Can’t grade when it’s muddy, boss.”
He steps up to me. “I don’t care if it’s muddy, or snowy, or dry, or whatever. You see this paper?” He taps on his clipboard repeatedly. “This says it was supposed to be done by last Wednesday.”
I cock my head. “What the paper says and what’s real life are two different things. Any man who’s ever worked construction can tell you that,” I reply, putting an extra touch of sarcasm on the word ‘worked’.
He glares at me. “You getting smart with me? You wanna go talk to Mr. Lee?”
I grin. “I would love to. You lead the way.”
He clenches his jaw then spits after realizing that he’s lost. He knows, just like I know, that Mr. Lee values my skill as an operator and can’t afford to lose me. He points a finger at my face. “I’m watching you. Just get the job done.”
I point a finger at his back as he walks away—the middle one—then turn it, point up.
Of all the weeks to quit chewing tobacco…
I sure could use some nicotine right now. Sunflower seeds will have to do. They’re much cheaper. Healthier too, I guess.
The backhoe fires back up and I get back to work. I made good progress for the day, but had little time to think about how to solve my money problems. The game keeps grinding at me, the man in the bank—his voice echoing through my head.
It takes money to make money.
I toss my hard hat into the front seat of my old single-cab pickup truck and open my red cooler. Ham and cheese sandwich, small bag of chips, cookie for desert—the contractor pack, as I’ve always called it. Been eating the same thing for years, with little variation. It’s cheap and easy. Fifteen minutes later, I go back to work.
The hours pass by quick when you’re busy. And that’s a good thing. Before I know it, it’s quitting time. The work day comes to an end and I’ve got a plan on how I can make some quick cash. Enough to pay for the console and the game, anyway.
Climbing the steps into the construction trailer, I knock on the boss’s door.
“Come in.”
“Mr. Lee,” I greet him, hard hat tucked under my arm.
He stands from his office chair behind the desk littered with blueprints. “Hey, John. You doin’ alright? Here, have a seat,” he offers, extending his hand towards the chair opposite from him.
I sit down and try to summon the courage to ask him for an advance. “I’m okay, sir.”
“And work’s going good?” he asks and sits back down in his large, brown executive office chair.
“Other than the rain, can’t complain.” I don’t tell him about the new asshole of a foreman he has working for him. Yet.
He nods. “Shit weather to work in, that’s for sure. But I’m gathering you’re not here to talk about the weather, are you?”
“I need an advance on my next paycheck.”
He looks at me like I’m crazy. “I just paid you three days ago. Damn, John, you know I can’t give you an advance so soon. We’re behind on work and the GC is already riding my ass, threatening to withhold payment until our job’s done.”
“Mr. Lee, I’ve never asked you for anything in the past and have rarely missed a day’s work. But I’m asking you for a favor now. Just this one time, please. I need the money right now something awful. You know I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t.”
He looks out his window dotted with rain drops and rubs his chin. “I know you wouldn’t have. Family issues?”
“Something like that.”
He turns back to me. “Damn, John. I like you. You’re the best operator I got and you always show up on time; which is rare these days, let me tell you.” He looks out the window again, contemplating whether or not to loan me the money.
“Please, Mr. Lee. Anything you can do will help more than you know. Swear I’ll never ask again.”
He sighs and turns back to me. “I can’t give you an advance on a paycheck, John. I’m sorry. The company just doesn’t have it.”
My heart sinks. I gather up what’s left of my pride and stand to leave.
“But,” he adds and pulls out his wallet. “As a personal friend, I can loan you some of my own money.” He opens it up and pulls out a stack of large bills. “How much do you need?”
My eyes go wide with hope. “A thousand,” I croak out.
“A thousand!” he exclaims. “And here I thought you were going to ask to borrow fifty bucks.” He shakes his head and begins laying hundred dollar bills on top of one another, counting. “One thousand dollars.” He collects the money and walks around his desk to meet me. “Here. Take it.”
My hand shakes as I reach for it. He pulls the money back before I can touch it. “And you’ll pay it back in full, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” I promise him. “Pay it back as soon as possible.”
“Five hundred over the next two paychecks,” he says and hands it to me.
It feels like a million bucks in my hand. “Yes, sir, I’ll pay it back in time,” I tell him and shake his hand. “Thank you, sir. You don’t know how much this means to me and my family. Thank you.”
“Alright, go on then,” he says and ushers me out the door. “Before you start asking for more.” He pats me on the back before I leave. “And John. Keep up the good work.”
“Will do, Mr. Lee.” I reply, smiling in appreciation. Riding home in the truck, I feel the weight of the world has just lifted. “And how about that,” I say to myself, thinking back on what Mr. Lee just did. “I think that’s the nicest thing anyone’s
ever done for me.”
The rain clouds part and a beam of sunlight breaks through.
Things are about to change… you’ll see. Ol’ John Crussel’s luck is finally about to change.
Now I just have to find a way to make a thousand dollars in the game over the next two weeks to cover the cost of this debt before Jenny finds out.
The next morning, I roll out of bed and jump in the shower, wrap a towel around myself when I’m through, and greet my wife with a smile and a kiss. And a little extra pat on her behind for good measure.
“Well, aren’t you in a good mood this morning,” she says with a giggle, already dressed and ready to take the kids to school.
“It’s going to be a good day,” I tell her, following her into the kitchen. “By the way, you look beautiful.”
“And a charmer at that. What’s got you so chipper?” she asks and throws the kids’ lunch boxes in their backpacks.
I open the fridge, then remember that we’re still out of milk. I need to make some fast money in that game somehow. This milk shortage is getting old fast.
“Just happy to still be above ground, babe. You and the kids are all I need.”
She turns to me and smiles with gratitude. “I feel the same way.”
At the front door, with the kids already in the car, she kisses me goodbye before she goes to work at that shithole diner. “I gotta go. I’ll see you tonight,” she tells me, a hint of something more by the way she touches my chest, the promise in her tone.
I hold both her arms. “One day you won’t have to go to that diner anymore, Jenny. I promise you that I’ll do everything in my power to make that so.”
She touches my cheek. “I know, sweetheart. But right now, it helps pay the bills. It’s a job. And it’s not so bad. I’ll see you later.”
I don’t tell her that I’m calling in to work sick. With thirty hours of paid vacation left, I can take the rest of the week off to focus on the game and she’ll never know the difference.
After she pulls down the drive, I fire up the truck and head back to see the punk at the mall to buy the game. Hoodie pulled over and wet from the rainstorm outside.
He sees me coming and slaps both hands on the counter. “I knew you’d be back. I saw it in your eyes. And I know a desperate man when I see one,” the smart ass says with a grin.
I slap my hand on the counter. “Just shut up and give me the game.”
He steps back, sour-faced. “Rude much? You got the money?”
I pull the rolled-up cash from my pocket and give him a peek. “Five hundred. Just like you said.”
He holds his hands up. “Whoa, buddy. I said six hundred.”
“You said five,” I spit back and lean over the counter towards him, fully intent on pounding this kid’s face in. “I swear to god, I’ll stomp your ass the minute you get off of work. I got the money you asked for, now do you have the game or not?”
He shakes his head and laughs. “Hey man, take it easy. I’m only jerking your chain.” He reaches behind the desk and looks around nervously. The store’s empty, except for a mom browsing through the game section with her kid.
They’re not paying attention to us. We go to make the trade.
“They don’t even have it,” the brat shouts. “Nobody has it!”
The mom storms to the counter, dragging the kid by the arm. “Do you have a copy of Alterlife?”
The punk clerk quickly hides the game behind his back and shakes his head slowly.
She snorts. “Well, can you at least tell me where I can find one, then?”
He stares at her blankly and shakes his head again.
“Come on, mom. This is a stupid store anyway,” the kid demands and jerks her arm. The mom sighs in desperation, then leaves with the child, arguing with him that she’s doing the best she can to find the game.
The clerk narrows his eyes, glaring at them as they leave. “Fuck that kid.” Turning his attention back to me, he slides the game across the counter.
There’s no wrap on the case. “What the hell? It’s been used.” I slide it back. “If I’m paying you five hundred dollars, then I expect it to be a new, unopened game.”
He leans on the counter and looks at me, serious. “Look, man. It’s all I got. If you can find something better somewhere else, then by all means, go ahead.”
“If something’s wrong with it, I want my money back.”
He holds his hands up, as if to be relieved from the game. “Sorry, man. No returns.” He swipes the cash from my hand and goes back to work. As I open the case to make sure the game is there, he speaks over his shoulder. “It’s probably for the best if we never see each other again.”
I tuck the game into my hoodie pocket. “Are you serious?”
He gives me a stern look. “We never saw each other. Catch my drift?”
I scoff. “Whatever. See you in the ‘Alterlife’,” I tell him, mocking the whole ordeal.
Outside the shop, I turn back and find the clerk standing still behind the counter, staring at me.
Creepy little bastard.
One quick stop later and I have the system in my possession, since those can be found almost anywhere. Time to hit my buddy’s place up and get to work. Thankfully, he left me the code to his apartment and said he’s working first shift now. Told me to make myself at home.
It’s close to town, a duplex, and I’m told the neighbor isn’t around much. That makes me feel a little better since the place is in a rough part of town. I’d rather not have anyone around while I’m in virtual reality.
Lockbox, key, open door. The inside smells like cigarettes and dirty laundry. It’s a mess, as most bachelor pads are, but I don’t care. I’ve seen worse. And it doesn’t matter, once I’m inside of VR, I won’t be looking at this place anyway.
I sit down in his brown, worn out La-Z-Boy recliner and begin to open the NueView. The packaging is slick. Probably one of the reasons it’s such a big seller over the cheaper-competition virtual reality consoles. People love their damn packaging. Personally, I’ve never cared about it. Just more crap to throw in the trash.
I pull the small box that says ‘NueView’ out from the foam packing. I open the box and hold what looks like a pair of contact lenses up for inspection. I looked the system up online but that doesn’t compare to holding it in your hands. “You’ve got to be kidding me. How freaking cool is this!” Just recently, I didn’t even know technology like this existed. Reading the quick start guide, a new wireless connection that’s touted to be much faster and more reliable than Bluetooth is what links the NueView to the power source that straps onto the user’s chest.
I set the lenses down and pick through the rest of the package. The power supply is connected to a regular 120v outlet and from there, the Brainwave is powered—a flexible cap that’s supposed to drive the experience and mimic real life. From what I’ve read on a couple of forums, that’s what makes this VR system so popular. The brain receives everything from the virtual world and processes it through the cap, making it feel real. The big, white disclaimer on the box says that it’s safe to use, though, and that ‘any interactions in a virtual world are a fabricated representation and nothing more’… whatever that means.
I recently read that this one guy jumped off a cliff in VR just to see what would happen. Nothing did. “I woke up from what felt like a dream,” he’d said. But others say that the mind makes it real, and there are even some reports of people dying from using the machine. Whether or not that’s correlated to dying in VR, nobody knows. There haven’t been any reports to confirm. But one group on Facebook claimed that the deaths were true and the government was behind the cover up because if people knew the truth, nobody would buy the system and sales would tank. Oddly enough, that group’s page got shut down shortly after making the claim.
Unpackaged and ready to go, I stand back in excitement. “This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen.”
I plug up the power supply, strap it on, and pull
the elastic Brainwave over my head, which is equipped with its own patented surround sound. My hands rub together in anticipation and I remove my glasses to try on the NueView lenses. Luckily, I’ve worn contacts for years, but I can imagine the frustration of someone who hasn’t. They’re slightly rigid, unlike a regular lens, which I can already tell will take some getting used to. I open Alterlife and am still surprised that the game looks like a credit card, too big to be streamed. Kudos to the gaming industry for making this into what it is today. I still remember the old cartridge games the size of a piece of bread that you had to blow the dust out of just to get to work.
I press the blue button in the middle of the power supply and the cover opens up. The game inserts into the power supply, and the cover closes itself over top.
Oh, and did I mention that it’s voice activated?
“NueView, on.”
The lenses power up causing the room to suddenly go black, and I’m immersed in darkness. A small, green light pulses in front of me and a female voice says ‘power on.’
“System setup: Choose a name for your NueView system,” she tells me.
I laugh. “Seriously?”
“Seriously,” she repeats. “Is this name correct?”
“No. Change name.”
“Alright. Please tell me the name of your NueView system.”
“Is this your name? Is this what I’ll be calling you?” I ask her.
“Yes.”
“Then I will let you choose your own name.”
“Random name generated. System name: Jill
“Would you prefer my voice to be different?”
“No. Your voice sounds lovely. Kind of hot, really, Jill.”
“Voice set, confirmed. Awaiting command.”
“Play Alterlife.”
The pulsing green light disperses into countless tiny dots before fading away, leaving me in darkness again. The Alterlife banner appears to a catchy theme song and it feels like I’m front row at a symphony concert. Beautiful scenery appears, something like New Zealand.
