THE TRIBE
BY KERR-ET VON AGATE
This is my universe, I created it. Authors do that. Our fictional worlds are real somewhere, even if it is just within our own minds. I live in Monroe. That was a hard choice. When you create your own universe you can live anywhere you want. And you’d better choose the right one because you would look a little silly complaining about where you live when you created it.
So I chose here.
I needed to create a whole town. Buildings, roads, and most importantly, people. It is hard to have a city without people. So I had to make them up. I went and got magazines and cut out “people.” Well really I just cut out their shells, but I gave the shells new identities in my universe, although since I don’t really know what their identities are in this one, maybe I have created the same ones. I have no way of knowing.
If I had just used magazines alone, I’d only have good looking shells in my universe. I could have done that, but it is not right. Ugly shells have just as much right to be in my universe as the good looking ones. Maybe, I thought, I’ll make in my universe all the TV shows and magazines to be full of only ugly shells. Fat, weird and not-so-perfect…just full of heart. All the beautiful shells would be looked at somehow “not up to par” because of their bodies. They’d spend all day wondering what they did to deserve such terrible shells, and how to get more unattractive (plastic surgery to ugly themselves up a bit). I thought of it, just wrote it down, but I kept it at that.
My universe has some weird rules in it though. For example, not every place exists in the same year. I though it would be more fun that way. Some are in 2005, others are in 1901, some 2500 BC, some 265 million BC, some in 3279 AD. I though it would make my vacations and business trips more fun.
Ah, that too was a problem. A job. Then again, do I need a job? Does anyone really need a job? Maybe it will just be all the beautiful people who can’t get on TV who have to get jobs- no I scraped that idea. I remember.
There was a time on our planet when no one really had a job. We were part of a tribe, a small community, sometimes always on the move. Each person had not a job, but a responsibility. They were called on by the group as a whole to do something that allowed everyone else to live in harmony. I like that. It sounds very human. To have not a job but a responsibility. No one was really more important than anyone else that way; even the chief was just filling a responsibility for the tribe. There were female chiefs too. Thus everyone felt important and useful. If they didn’t fulfil their responsibility, everyone else’s life would suffer. This is unlike today where people are just interchangeable robots that no one really cares who does what, who is best suited for what. We just see a package arrive with no idea what went into it. We have lost our understanding of a tribe.
So in my universe there are no more jobs, only responsibilities. We are all connected somehow and rely on each other. I thought it would be harder to hate people that way. You were responsible to them, and them to you. Yes sounds nice, so I’ll make it just like that. There, done!
Ok so what will my responsibility be? I always wanted to be a professional baseball player, but that’s not a responsibility. Any pro athlete is just a distraction for people who feel their own life has no worth due to having a job that gives them no connection to community. Since we all now have responsibilities, thus our lives have meaning, there is no need for such distractions. If we want baseball, we can play it ourselves. Why do we need to watch someone else do something we can do? I don’t go watch someone else cook a turkey. Thanks to that philosophy there was no more pornography either. It’s a fun town.
What other jobs have no use in a tribe? Well lawyers aren’t needed, because now when a dispute arises the two people will just go to the person responsible for settling disputes and state their case themselves, right there. Lawyers are just sick parasites of a non-tribe society. Bankers can go too, because since everyone is responsible to everyone else, all that we have is part of the collective. If someone needs something, we just give it to them, as they will do for us when we need something. Thus we have nothing to hide away. Insurance? Yes, they can go too. Is it a wonder that in that “other universe” the three biggest buildings in a city are banks, insurance companies and law firms? All jobs that have nothing to do with tribe, but about taking form humanity. Wonder how many people thought of that?
I thought for quite a while and then I realized, I could be a caretaker. Yes that is what a creator should do. When I was younger the only caretakers I knew were in my school. It was another word for janitor. I liked my high school janitors, even though many could not even speak English. Most were kind, hard working men who were a part of our tribe at school. Things would not be clean or work well without them.
One, his name was Eric, I talked with every day, mostly about stuff. Most of the other kids ignored him, because he was a janitor, but I enjoyed our talks. He was a good guy, so he warranted my time. It didn’t matter what he “did”, he was good inside. Funny, in my life I have always been more concerned with what I “did” than who I “was.”
In my universe the role of school caretaker is named Billy. I cut a picture out of a magazine of a shell that Billy would use. I keep it in a folder so when I write something about Billy I have his shell to look at. I’m sorry that you do not have the pictures. Maybe you can get your own magazines and cut out pictures to use while my story goes along. Of course, if you are going to go to all that trouble, you could just create your own universe like I did!
So what exactly will I care for? Animals, plants, rocks? No that is the proper destiny of humans. Humans can not really be humans unless they are doing this as their first priority. It is why we are here. I know. I will be the caretaker of dreams. The dreams and hopes of my characters. I could work out of home, but then I would be alone all day. That would make for a very dull day, and dull days don’t make for interesting universes or stories. No, I’d better give myself an office, with a staff and everything. They will be responsible for monitoring everyone’s dreams in the city. I guess that’s enough background. You’ll learn more about me, my city, and my universe as the story moves along.
I get up in the morning and look at my clock, 7:35. Well, good sleep I thought. I’m 33, single, and live at 165 Oak Maple Birch Lane. I wasn’t sure which tree to pick to name my street, so I used them all. I’m single in this universe because I wanted to court my future partner. I have her working in my office right now, and we have yet to go on a date yet. I’m going slowly because there is no need to rush, is there? Maybe today will be the day.
I make myself breakfast, a bowl of oatmeal porridge. Someone told me once that it is good for people like me to eat in the morning. I believed her. Why wouldn’t I? Years later I read a book on depression and found out that depressed people should eat porridge in the morning. I’m not depressed now, in my universe, because I can be whatever I want to be. So I’m happy here, but I had better eat my porridge just to be safe
.I went golfing this morning. I’m supposed to be at my responsibility by 9, so there really wasn’t enough time, but I wanted a life where I could golf every day if I wanted to. So I adjusted time in my universe. Time is an illusion anyway. My four hour game took only 30 minutes in “my universe” time. I like when I can do things like that. I played golf with my three best male friends. I have great female friends too, except none of them golf, so we don’t play. I could make them like golf, but that was not the way they were originally created so who am I to force them to be something else?
I arrive at my office at 9:10. The staff is already working on one of my characters. I picked a nice group to be around. Wendy is the brains of the operation. She went to university on the east coast (which is in the future) so she is really “ahead of her time.” I found her shell in an ad in Cosmopolitan magazine, though I had her cut her dark hair a little bit shorter in my world. Brian works the equipment. He is 27 and real fun to be around, especially when he tries to flirt with Wendy. I found TV shows were funnier when the two characters liked each other but never got together, the show always went downhill once they did. So I keep messing them up. The third member of my group is Natasha. She is my future wife, is 29 and found her shell in a bikini magazine. Of course she doesn’t wear bikini’s here, skirts and simple tops. Did I mention the simple dress code in my city? I’m wearing shorts right now.
“What’s his dream,” I ask pointing to the man on the screen we are looking at?
“Dan Kendrick, age 44. His responsibility is the fixing of the shoes of our citizens. It seems like a simple job, but whenever someone’s shoes need work they go see Dan. Whenever anyone sees him they always thank him for the shoes they are wearing. It makes his day,” explained Wendy.
“So why are we focused on him,” I asked?
“He has always wanted to go to Tibet,” interjected Brian.
“Suggestions of how to get him there.”
“We’ve been working on that,” replied Natasha. Sometimes when she talks though I just stare into her eyes. I’m doing that now, and all is see is her kind heart, I even forget that she even has a shell. “We thought of creating a lottery where the winner gets a trip…”
“For two,” said Wendy.
“Right, for two, to Tibet. We’ll just rig it so that he is the winner.”
“Well,” I said, “that’s a good idea except what about the other people who want to enter the lottery? We will be deceiving them. Right Wendy?”
“No, not at all. We just need to set up a booth outside of the grocery store where he shops at,” she said looking at her chart. “Every Saturday around 2PM. Thankfully most humans are so locked into their habits and patterns that it is easy to track where they are going to be in any moment. So we just set up a booth at 2PM, but don’t sell any tickets before he arrives. Of course he will spend a dollar to try and win his dream trip to Tibet, then as soon as hey buys his ticket we take down the booth. By the time he comes out he will just think that the table is done for the day. Then there really will be a draw, just he will have the only name in it.”
“I like it.”
Ten hours later I am back at my house. Natasha is with me. We have gone out on our first date. Of course it has been perfect so far. I wrote it that way. I’m on my couch as she sits beside me. The big moment, our first kiss. She leans over so slowly and my lips reach hers. It is magical, and explosion of joy within. She leans away and then prepares to kiss me again…when her cell phone goes off.
“Hello?”
Cell phone? She doesn’t have a cell phone. There are no cell phones in my town, except for police officers, and she is not a police officer.
“Really, of course I’ll be right home.” She hangs up, then stands up from the couch. “Sorry hun, but I have to leave. One of my kids is sick and needs me at home.”
“What, you don’t have any kids.”
“Of course I do. I have two, you’ve met them. Did one kiss from me scramble your brain that much?”
My brain was scrambled. Natasha had no cell phone and no kids. I wrote it that way, I created her that way. Without me she wouldn’t exist. What the hell is going on? I opened the door and said good bye as Natasha left, got into her car, and drove away. I was about to go back inside when I noticed a man standing beside a parked car right in front of my house. I had never seen this shell before, and I knew every shell in my folder.
“Who are you,” I asked out.
He waited for a moment and then replied, “I’ve been created to tell you something.” He walked towards me.
“I didn’t create you.”
“I know, someone else did. You see they are also an author and the creator of a universe, and they decided they don’t much like the way your universe is running. So they are changing it as they see fit.”
“But they can’t do that. This is my universe. I created it, not them.”
“Well, yes and no.”
“But I created it first, why doesn’t he just make up his own universe. Why does he have to hone in on mine?”
“Well actually Mr. Von Agate, you both created your universes at exactly the same moment, there is not first. Your both equal in the creation timeline I’m afraid. But you will have to take that up with them. Oh, by the way, the he is not a he. He’s a she.”
“Well why is SHE messing with my world, especially with Natasha?”
“Again you’ll have to ask her yourself.” The stranger checks his watch. “It’s time for me to leave, at least that is what it says in her book.”
With that the stranger got into his car and drove away. I stood there dumbfounded, this is not like I had expected, not as I expected at all. I was finally in the position where I could make the perfect place for the human race, the way it was supposed to be, and now some freak was messing with it. What could I do? I had to do something? But what? So I went upstairs and started writing. First I wrote that a pizza deliveryman came with a free pizza. Just a minute later he arrived. Ok, so that still works. Now let’s try something more difficult. I’ll make Natasha come back over, telling me the kids conversation was just a joke she was playing on me. She had gone to pick up a bottle of wine for us. I wrote it. Then I waited. One minute has passed. Now two. The phone rings. So I answer it.
“Hello?”
“Hi hun, made it home Ok and Stephanie is doing fine. She says hi. Sorry about all this, but I knew that you’d understand. Talk with you at work tomorrow. Bye.”
This was really pissing me off. My perfect world and now my perfect relationship, were getting fucked with. This is going to end right now! I needed a plan of attack. I was going to call Wendy, not only because she was the smartest person I knew (because I created her to be so) but so too being a woman she may offer some deeper insight into what was going on. But I scrapped that idea. If this “intruder” could influence Natasha she could likely influence Wendy too.
But wait, the pizza delivery guy. He came and went just as I wrote it. That gives me an idea…