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No. 383

Will checked his phone for messages. There were none. The clock said 8:53. He made up his mind and leaned forward to speak to the limo driver. “She’s not coming. I can still make it in time if we leave now.”

The driver tipped his cap and started the engine. “Perhaps she wasn’t right for you, anyway,” he offered from the front seat.

“Maybe,” said Will. “Maybe you’re right.”

When the car began to move, Will didn’t look back.

Around Gray Publishes Presents - Lisa Dugaro - The Tragical History of Charlie Porter

Elevators don’t have to simply go up and down.

It was Charlie Porter’s dream to liberate the elevator from the meaninglessness of simple up and down movement. He’d just been fired from his elevator-repair job when he came up with the plan. Perhaps he’d felt a kinship with the machine’s scripted responses and powerlessness of direction, or maybe he was just cracking up. That night, he spent a good chunk of his savings on a liquidated antique lift.

A year later, Porter was living on ramen and A & W ketchup packets, but he’d managed to establish a track for his lift that allowed it to move diagonally and right and left as well as up and down.

In another six months, homeless and scrounging for paper to further his plans, he’d done away with the track. The antique lift was long gone, replaced by a theoretical lift which existed only on used napkins and discarded business cards. Of course he was collecting other things, too. A board here, some electrical circuitry there. Porter was building a new elevator from scratch.

In the end, it wasn’t much to look at. The cage was completed with duct tape spun around a tarp, several feel of mis-matched vinyl fencing, and an assortment of beams and bars. The floor was a mosaic of carpet samples and there was no roof. But porter knew his invention would work because of his “secret weapon”--the one item he’d actually stolen.

Knowing he needed an electrical board to program the lift, Charlie Porter did something he’d never thought he’d do: he broke into City University and stole one. Or, at least, the nearest approximation. It was perfect--the panel already had readouts and tuning switches designated “Location” and “Time”.

It was New Year’s Eve for everyone else when Porter decided to take his maiden voyage. He was particularly oblivious to the goings-on around him as he was making the final adjustments to his machine. Even when well-meaning passers-by dropped change into his tool box, he was more annoyed than grateful.

Finally the street quieted down and Charlie Porter was alone with his obsession. He calibrated the elevator to move both up and left, intending to land atop the building on one side of his alley. His directions to the machine were precise: the panel required latitude and longitude as well as planet and solar system information. Chalking it up to interference from whatever the university students had planned it for, Porter dutifully entered all the specifics. The “Time” setting, though, he left on the default 0.0.

Charlie Porter entered his lift and pressed his jury-rigged “Close Door” button. Then he and his machine disappeared.

Thirteen and a half billion years ago, the big bang occurred. If anyone had actually been there, though, they would have described it as “a big bang and also a kinda human scream.”

Around Gray Publishes Presents - Sammy Vickstein

“Jane, I need the ring back.” 
Jane’s imagination raced to make sense of Gerald‘s words.  She ran her thumb over the ring in question, she had not yet gotten used to the  token of their only now two day long engagement.
“Oh, no, it’s not like… let me explain,” Gerald said, moving over to the couch where Jane sat.
She made room for him, decided to hear him out.  She owed him, no, she owed herself that much.

Gerald began:
Apparently Mrs. Schwarz, the lady who sold Gerald the ring, had made some sorta  mistake.  The ring Jane now wore should not have been sold, not to Gerald at least.  Something about magic powers.  The Germans wanted it, the Russians wanted it, the Jewish rapper Dr. Ira wanted it, a guy named Hal Jordan wanted it.  Mrs. Schwarz had called Gerald earlier that day and tried to explain, realized it all sounded ridiculous and asked Gerald to stop by the jewelry store with the ring and she would try to explain in person. 

Jane was pissed, wished Gerald respected her enough to be honest about whatever it was that was going on.  She was just about to tell him so too- when a beam of white light shot out of the ring and went through their front window before slicing in half a German thug who had been sneaking up their lawn.

No. 382

“We yawn so that the little aliens who live in our brains can get some fresh air,” Jocelyn told her little brother, Caleb, after repeated questioning.

“That’s not true,” he replied.

“Really? Because you’re the one who asked me, so you’re the one who doesn’t know.”

“Maybe you’re right,” he admitted, then returned to playing with his truck.

 

“She’s on to us,” said the alien commander. “Prepare to evacuate!”

 

“Hey, what was that?” said Caleb.

“What was what?” said his sister, annoyed at being interrupted again.

“Something just flew out of your ear.”

She waved nonchalantly. “Probably just a bug. Stop bothering me.”

“I bet it was the aliens.”

“Are you kidding me? I just made that up.”

No. 381

AJ didn’t like the look of the rash on his right hand. It had started small, a few days earlier, but had now grown to cover everything but his thumb.

“You should probably get that checked out,” his roommate, Shawn Raymond, told him, as AJ left for work.

“Yeah, I think so. I’m busy today, but I’ll try to fit it in,” said AJ on his way out the door. He flexed his fingers experimentally. The dull itch had turned into a worrying burning sensation.

As he drove in to the office, the pain began to intensify. When he arrived, it was only to throw his bag on his desk and let his boss know he was going to the doctor.

 

AJ never made it that far. He pulled his car to the side of the road and tucked himself into the foetal position. He’d never experienced such agony, and the inflammation had reached his elbow. He used his opposite arm to claw at the wound.

He was horrified to see the flesh flake away, disintegrating into a sandy texture. He closed his eyes in misery. Once rid of the tissue, though, the pain slacked.

When he opened his eyes, he regarded his limb curiously. The skin and muscle that he expected to see were gone. Underneath was shiny pistons and cables. He opened and closed his hand with a faint whine of gears propelling the metal skeleton.  

“What is this?” he gasped at the sight. Then, worryingly, his left little finger began to itch.

 

AJ threw the car in drive and sped home, hoping desperately that Shawn was gone for the day.

He was in luck. The apartment was empty when he came through the door with a sweater over his arm. He hurried to his room and, after leaving a message for Shawn that he’d be away on business, closed the door and didn’t leave for a week.

 

When he emerged, he was reduced to a technological framework, completely machine.

“Hey,” he greeted Shawn, who didn’t turn around.

“What’s up?” Shawn asked.

“I’m a robot, apparently,” replied AJ.

Shawn kept his focus on the TV. “Yup. We all knew that,” he said without a reaction.

AJ was floored by the news. “What do you mean, ‘you knew’? And who is ‘we’?”

"Almost everyone. It was pretty obvious."

No. 380

Jack moved his chair to follow the umbrella’s shadow. He’d been watching people walk past the patio and hadn’t noticed how far the sun had moved. Reaching for his glass, he was annoyed to find that the ice had melted. He shook the condensation off of his hand and looked back toward the shop. He wondered if he should buy another drink, or live with the warm one he already had.  

He didn’t see Amy until she sat down beside him.

“Hi,” she said. “How’s it going?”

“Yeah, fine,” said Jack, startled by her sudden appearance. “I’m just killing time.”

Amy worked at a restaurant across the street, and knew who Jack was waiting for.

“When’s Kelly done?” Amy asked.

“Ah, should be soon,” Jack replied. “It was supposed to be twenty minutes ago, but I think something came up.” He’d told Amy about his feelings for Kelly the week before. Now Amy made sure to ask him about her every day.

“I see,” said Amy. She leaned over and stole Jack’s cup. “Does she know you’re here for her?” she asked with the straw in her mouth.

“I think so,” said Jack. “I said something yesterday.”

Amy smiled. “What exactly did you say, yesterday?”

Jack slid back further into the shadow. “I said we should do something, sometime.”

“I’m going in to see if she’s still here,” said Amy.

Jack didn’t say anything. Amy stood up and walked around the table to Jack’s side.

“Get up,” she told him, grabbing his arm, and lifting. “You’re coming, too.”

“But—,” Jack protested.

Amy was having none of it. She hustled him forward toward the door. “Move! At the very least, you can buy your sister something for her parched throat on this ridiculously hot day.”

“Fine, whatever,” Jack mumbled. “But it’s only going to be a small since you just finished mine.”

 

Amy burst into the lobby with Jack in tow. “Kelly?” she shouted across the counter. “Are you still here? My brother has something to tell you.”

Kelly was nowhere to be seen. A man behind the till spoke up.

“Kelly’s gone home,” he told Jack and Amy.

“Who are you?” asked Amy. “I’m here all the time and I’ve never seen you before.”

“I’m new,” said the man. “This is my first shift at this store. I’m Mike.”

 

“And so, four years ago, that’s how Mike and my sister met. I’m going to take credit for it.” Jack finished his speech. He raised his glass. “To the bride and groom.”

He sat down when the applause was over.

“Hey,” Kelly whispered in his ear. “You never told me that story before. If I remember correctly, it wasn’t until a month after Mike started that you asked me out.”