The Underground Part 2

"You've got a great wife. You can't possibly understand," Nathaniel said.

"Look, I'm just trying to help," Brigg said, with compa.s.sion.

"Well, you can't. Okay. Just accept that my life with Janice can't be better," Nathaniel said, bitterly, before draining his gla.s.s.

"Maybe there are ways to make life with her more palatable that you haven't thought of," Brigg suggested.

"She's a raging alcoholic. I clean up her vomit, and the thought of fathering her children, which she talks about all the time, makes me sick. You keep telling me it'll get better, but it's not going to change. Ever," Nathaniel said, pulling money out of his pocket and slapping it on the bar. He headed straight for the stairs and took them two at a time, exiting the Black Hole quickly.

"Wait!"

Early dusk met Nathaniel as he stepped outside. Brigg caught up and grabbed his arm.

"What do you want?" Nathaniel asked Brigg, not giving him room to answer. "... You wanna give me yet another lecture about how I should have gone to the Parties of Availability with you when I was 18? Let's just get this out of the way... Yes, you were right, okay... I should have gone. I should have pandered at those stupid f.u.c.king parties, so that maybe just maybe I'd get chosen for marriage by someone I could get along with before I turned 26. But I didn't go because I didn't want to be humiliated. That's all those women do at those parties from the moment they see a fresh 18-year-old walk in until the day he turns 26 and gets dragged off to the C Center. Do I regret not going to those parties now? Yes. You happy? Maybe I would've found someone a little better, or at least a woman who isn't a drunk. Still, I'm lucky. Janice is my savior. Hallelujah!" he said sarcastically. "She is my lifeline and life sentence at the same time."

"Keep your voice down!" Brigg said. "And watch what you're saying." Brigg dragged Nathaniel down an alley so they would be less vulnerable to Tasers who might walk by. "You seemed like you were doing okay for a while, and clearly you are not. I was just asking. I thought I could help," Brigg said.

"n.o.body can help me," Nathaniel said, with a smile that felt scary, not happy. "I'm a man with my biological clock attached to a bomb on my b.a.l.l.s. And it's just about gone off. I can't move, man. Can't you see that?" he whispered to Brigg.

"Do you trust me?" Brigg whispered back, close to his friend's face.

"Of course I trust you,," Nathaniel said, annoyed, and shaking his arm free from Brigg.

"There is a way for you to be happy," Brigg said. He was absolutely resolute.

"Not with Janice."

"I'm certainly not going to argue about that."

"What are you talking about?"

"Look, I know some people who can help you."

"How?" Nathaniel said, holding onto his frustration.

"I can't say," Brigg said, pleading. "But you have got to trust me."

"Who could possibly help me?" Nathaniel asked, hoping to wear Brigg down.

"Call this number, and tell them I said you should call," Brigg said jotting down a phone number on a c.o.c.ktail napkin that he had had in his hand from the bar.

"I can't tell you the details. I can only say that this is a chance for you without Janice."

"What is it... some sort of murdering service?!" Nathaniel whispered.

"Of course not!" Brigg said.

"What then?"

"Look at yourself. You're miserable. I'm giving you a chance for something more," Brigg said firmly pressing the number into Nathaniel's hand.

Nathaniel clutched the napkin tightly in his pocket as he walked home. It had been a long time since he felt any hope. Forget about love, all he could think of was his future with a woman he despised. He tried, unsuccessfully, to quell his yearning for fulfillment. Just as Nathaniel started to feel sorry for himself, he pa.s.sed a group of Spots and reminded himself to be grateful. He threw the napkin in the next trashcan he saw on the corner, knowing he shouldn't screw up what he had.

He had only walked a few steps when he saw a woman walk by him.

"h.e.l.lo," she said to Nathanial, without a threat. Her tone seemed almost...pleasant.

"Hi" he said nervously back, trying to keep his eyes on the ground as she pa.s.sed by. Was this a trick? Women weren't generally friendly like that, but what if some women could be like that? What if there was something better? He turned around and went back to the trash can. He fished out the rumpled napkin and smoothed it out so he could read the number.

Chapter 6.

As soon as he got home, he saw Janice's note.

Nathaniel, I got out of work early and came home, but you weren't here. WTF? I called your cell. No answer. Thought we were having a late dinner, but I couldn't wait, so went down to Zelda's for a drink and a bite with Janey.

Did you find out about the wedding photographer? You were also supposed to get information about liposuction. You know I'm still hoping to get this done before the wedding. In any case, even if there isn't enough time for my procedure, you need to get Botox in that wrinkle between your brows and those crows' feet you have. There is no way our wedding photos are going to have your face all wrinkled.

Call when you get this.

Love, Janice There had to be a better life. Nathaniel looked at his phone and she had, in fact, called four times. He really should have been more mindful as he knew there wasn't cell service in the Black Hole, since it was a bas.e.m.e.nt bar fully underground. Cursing, he dialed her cell nervously.

"Hi love!" he said, hoping his upbeat tone might gloss over the fact that he didn't tell her he might not be home on time.

"Where..ya..been?" she said, slurry.

"I was making calls about liposuction and missed your calls."

"Oh, well what'd you find out?" she said.

He suppressed a sigh of relief. She bought it.

"There's not enough time for the surgery and recovery before the wedding."

"Yeah, but what about the Botox? That's done in a doctor's office. Hmmm, maybe I could get some on the Internet and do it at home even," she said, making him shudder at the thought of a drunken Janice jabbing his face with poison after watching some how-to-inject-Botox YouTube video.

"The Botox is possible. I'll certainly make an appointment for that, but I'm talking about the surgery you wanted. I still don't understand why you would want to do that silly surgery anyway," he said. "You are gorgeous exactly the way you are."

"Nathaniel DeLuca, you are just the sweetest man who ever walked the earth," she said, laughing. "I'll be home in an hour. Janey and I are finis.h.i.+ng up. Can't wait!" she said.

"Me too!" he said, forcing himself, but feeling relieved her mood sounded upbeat.

He immediately went into the kitchen and turned on the timer for forty minutes, in case she came home early. He opened the lower cabinet and reached all the way to the back. He touched the worn cover respectfully, thinking of the many times it had been read. Perhaps fifty. No, maybe twice that, he thought. He flipped through it slowly, caressing the washed out text.

... The world changed before my eyes when I was young. Our country had a male president. He died and the vice president, a woman named Madeleine Smith took over. She demanded to be addressed as "The Queen." Everyone feared her and obliged her wishes, and this was the first mistake. Her new policies began to infiltrate the country: a She released full reports with fabricated or exaggerated statistics about the prevalence of s.e.xual a.s.saults by unmarried men aged 26 to 35.

a She went on the Webavision to tell her story. She had been gang raped as a teenager and her mission as Queen would be to abolish s.e.xual a.s.saults.

a She chipped away at male rights while she encouraged women to take leaders.h.i.+p roles. She also pa.s.sed outrageously tough laws ensuring that women stayed in power.

Little by little, the Queen stripped men of basic human rights. It is up to you to turn back time. I am old, or depending on when you read this, already dead. I can do nothing more than remind you of how it used to be.

We must all work to stop the injustices and barbaric treatment of men! Look around you. There, but for the grace of G.o.d, go I. If it happens to others, it can happen to you. Dignity is the path to happiness. Without it, life is worthless.

You must hold onto these thoughts. Work with other men to make changes, big or small, to restore our country's balance between genders.

Nathaniel carefully returned the book to its hiding place a few minutes before Janice was due home. He placed a bottle of Windex innocently in front as the words he read echoed in his mind. He had to do something. He could no longer look the other way. He nervously pulled the crumpled napkin out of his pocket.

He took a deep breath, and hesitated before finally calling the mystery number. Was he crazy for making this call? What if the phone was bugged and he got arrested for talking to the wrong people who were somehow affiliated with Reminder of Truth? After all, it was illegal to possess it.

He knew he should hang up. Just as he was going to disconnect, he heard a voice on the other end.

"So it's you," Shayla said, eyeing him suspiciously as she snuck up behind Nathaniel as he set down the bag in front of her office.

Nathaniel turned around, afraid for his job, his t.e.s.t.i.c.l.es, and even his life. Surely, the Queen's daughter could call in her pick of punishments with ease, if she deemed him a stalker. He tried to think of what to say if she became angry. She could send someone to search Janice's apartment and they'd find the book and then... he couldn't let his mind go there. Be polite. Be respectful and it will be okay, he told himself, hoping this was true.

"Who are you?" she asked, but Nathaniel was frozen, his mind swirling with possibilities.

"I asked your name." She folded her arms across her chest. Her look was entirely feminine, but her energy was tough.

Nathaniel tried to say something. He had never been so close to her, and she was far more beautiful than the Webavision photos revealed. Her s.h.i.+ny dark hair framed her face, falling perfectly to the middle of her back. Her deep cinnamon eyes drew him in. He couldn't look away.

"I'm Nathaniel DeLuca," he said nervously, once he was able.

"Mr. DeLuca," she said before pausing for some pa.s.sersby. "Why don't you come into my office?"

To Nathaniel, her words sounded more like a command than an invitation. He panicked before following her inside the office he had pa.s.sed by a thousand times before. He imagined the inside to be as majestic as the Queen's daughter, but it was a dump.

The scuffed ancient desk was from the same era as the squeaky vinyl chair that she sat in. It was a great contrast to Shayla's polished look. Nathaniel was immediately mesmerized by Shayla's honey vanilla scent that contrasted the cigarettes and alcohol breath to which he was, unfortunately, accustomed. She was like the colorized part of a black and white photo with her rose chiffon blouse beneath the blue wool suit that hugged her like a second skin.

"You can sit," Shayla said matter-of-factly, as she motioned to the chair next to her desk.

Nathaniel tentatively lowered himself to the chair, but remained mute as his eyes darted around the office. The room wasn't large, but every item had its place: piles of labeled backup drives neatly stacked, and three large computer screens that spanned the desk, probably allowing her to check data and watch workers via remote cameras. He'd never seen such an elaborate setup. Everything was orderly, with one exception.

The books that sat prominently on the corner of her desk had nothing to do with construction or utilities or Cambridge Public Works policies. These were novels, the most recent bestselling authors. Pristine hardcover books. Few people read real, physical books anymore, as 90 percent of stories were accessed via electronic tablets.

Nathaniel was very curious about why she had novels on her desk. Reading was his mental escape and her desk boasted many of his favorite authors. There were cla.s.sics like Oliver Twist by Charles d.i.c.kens, Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte, and Sacred Turns by cla.s.sic modern authors like Pedro Antflick and Aarin McCormick a Nathaniel's favorite.

Why did she have them at work?

"I was just wondering why you did it?" she asked, looking at Nathaniel with concentration as her question sounded very much like he had committed a crime. This was it. Everything was over. He was going to get castrated. Today.

"I asked you a question," she said, her voice getting louder.

He wasn't sure what to say, wasn't even sure he knew the answer, but somehow the words floated out. "I wanted to do something nice for you."

"Thank you. I appreciate that," she offered with a puzzled look. "I still don't understand why, though," she said, with a wrinkle in her brow. "Look at me," she commanded.

The real reason that he put it there on the first day was because he wanted to be defiant, but there was no way he could say that. Beside, his reason had changed since that time. His motivation came from a place of appreciation now.

"You're a good boss. A nice boss. You gave us breaks. n.o.body has ever done anything like that. I guess I wanted to thank you," he said, before allowing his eyes to meet hers. He tried not to second-guess himself, but there was something about her that made him feel comfortable being himself. Considering she was the Queen's daughter, his boss, and she had ammunition to ruin his life, it surprised him. The longer they sat there silently looking at one another, the more certain he was of this feeling.

"I'm just doing my job," she said dryly. "I must admit, these are the best d.a.m.n m.u.f.fins I think I've ever had," she said. She broke into a grin that accentuated her perfectly supple lips and Nathaniel felt his fears ease.

"They're from Chester's Bakery down the street," he said, suddenly feeling great pride for Chester as the ice in the room thawed. He wondered whether the simple mixtures of sugar, flour, and b.u.t.ter just might, ironically, save his b.a.l.l.s.

"Would you mind continuing to bring them? It helps when I don't have to stop and grab breakfast in the morning."

"No, ma'am. Not at all," he said enthusiastically.

"I like the banana ones best, and the blueberry are a close second. How much is it?" she asked, reaching for her purse.

"Actually, there's no need for that. You see, Chester, the owner, is my Uncle-in-law to be," he said, almost smiling. "He won't let me pay for anything."

"I insist," she said, handing him a large bill. "And, by the way... you don't need to call me ma'am."

"Okay," he said, not sure what to say.

"When you are in my office, call me Shayla," she said as she handed him a large bill. "When this runs out, I'll give you more. I pay for my own breakfast, understood?"

Nathaniel hesitantly took the money from her, feeling a zing of pleasure from just brus.h.i.+ng his hand against hers, however briefly. There was no way that Chester was going to take money from him, and there was no way in h.e.l.l that he was going to tell Chester who the extra m.u.f.fin went to.

"Thank you, Nathaniel." He loved the way she said his name and that she might say it again sometime.

"You're very welcome," he said.

She got up and opened the door. She peered out, making sure n.o.body was there, and gestured for his exit. He closed the door, his heart beating wildly at the thought of what went on, the absence of punishment, and Shayla's personal request for a daily m.u.f.fin and coffee. Should he just leave them outside her door as he had been? Or, now that she knew who it was, should he wait until she was there and bring it to her door? She hadn't asked for anything different, so he decided to just keep leaving them outside her door.

Continuing to his morning post, he knew better than to tell anyone. As much as his coworkers appreciated Shayla's policies, she was still a woman, and not just any woman. She was the daughter of man's biggest enemy. Even Brigg would see it as b.u.t.tering up the other side.

"Heard you made the call," Brigg said quietly, the moment Nathaniel sat down next to him.

"Yeah," he said with his mind adrift to the cryptic conversation the previous evening that ended with a scolding...

"Yes, there is something better for you. We were told you might call. You did the right thing, now you need to be ready to go."

"Go where? I don't understand," Nathaniel said, his heart beating wildly as he wondered what he was doing.

"To a better place."