"Turtle, my friend, I'm in dire straits, as they call it."
What in the world could he possibly be talking about this time. He looks the same and acts the same as he did from yesterday to since the moment I met him. When was that actually? I feels like it might have been yesterday but also months before. I stare at him. It always seems to me as if he acts, or rather exists as if the Future is a foreign concept for him, the past too somewhat, for Gill there is only the Now and a tiny bit of the Yesterday.
"Oh?" I was trying to go for an unpreocupied half-sarcastic tone, but I put so much thought into it that I don't know what ended up coming out, but it wasn't what I'd envisioned... ensounded?
"Oh yes yes." Silence, he stares at the sooty pavement. Do I detect a slight annoyment at me for not blurting out reflexively "Bro! You got nothing to worry about. I got money for the both of us for years to come. Chill." But no, I won't say that, I will not be the one who begins to turn this... is it friendship?... into a relationship of dependence.
"It's no biggie." No trace of dissapointment in Gill's face, maybe it's all in my head. "Just have to make some money and I know just the place, maybe you want to come with? Though you don't need it?" Innocent to the point of rhetorical. Could it be that he doesn't realize that we've been together almost every second since we met. Could he have an inkling that I am terrified of being left alone without him? Well if I'm so thankful I should share my bounty with him. No. I did that mistake in the other world, I won't do it in this one.
"Sure. I've got nothing better to do." That couldn't be more true.
We walk to the place, how he knows exactly where he's going is a mystery to me, all these streets look the same, maybe in the future, if there is one, I'll know these streets like the back of my hand and I won't be afraid of being left behind like now. No dogs today, and few wanderers, I spot one from the other side of the street, an old lady, a rare sight, everyone else I've seen so far have been on the young side, but I guess one can lose themselves at any age, right?
"Here it is." Unsurprisingly it looks the exact same as every other building. How does he know? I'm already annoying myself with my repetitiveness though I'm the only one who can hear my thoughts. Just give in, stop asking questions.
Across the door there is a corridor and what seems to be a guest book. Gill goes over and signs his name, bites the butt of the pen as he thinks for a second, clearly not a germophone and writes down a "2" next to his name.
"Wanna work?"
Uh. "Put me down for... two."
"Alright!" he does "It's always cool to experience new things."
There is a cardboard box with some rectangular papers next to the guestbook, he picks some up for himself and hands some to me. "Just hold one up and wait for them to take it from you." They.
We traverse some curtains to a dark room but the top is lit, if I didn't know any better I'd say it was night and that the room has no roof, but the truth is as usual beyond grasp. Plus it's hard to dwell on that 'ceiling' with the sillouettes of giant flamingo heads jutting out from somewhere in front of the sky. That's what I would call them, flamingoes, big necks coming from somewhere beyond the top of the walls of the room ending in long beaked head with pairs of shiny white unfeeling eyes.
I'm jolted by my paralysis by Gill.
"Hey!" I turn my head to him, torso still frozen. "Heyy! Hold it up! Hold it up!" He's standing with his papers under one and the other stretched up holding a single one up high.
I don't understand anything, I forgot how to speak, I just look at him. Hold it up? Suddenly something whizzes down and yanks the paper out of his hand. I follow it, one of the flamingo heads holds it in his beak, eyes still unfeeling, still shinty, then slowly, in elephant rhythm turns away and walks back to wherever giant flamingo heads live. More are drawn to the room, peeking in from above, like pigeons drawn to an elderly person with bag of breadcrusts on a park bench. One by one they take Gill's papers. "Come on man, hold'em up." He says, with less hope in me. I look at the ream of papers under my arm and take one out and try to read it, the usual giberish. Tentatively I outstretch my arm upwards and wait. Wait. They won't take it? Why won't they... and then one takes it, it violently slips away from my hand. I'm not hurt but am scared as if I was. Reminds me of when someone would take a broken empty lighter and zap you with the flint. I recoil my hand.
Gill's extatic. "Good good." as another paper is yanked from his hand. Good, good, by I can't do it. I walk over to the wall and sit down.
"What's wrong, man?"
"I can't do it."
"You just did, man!"
"I can't."
"I got you down for two more hours, man."
"I can't."
His frustration doesn't last more than a second. Nothing to worry about in his mind, consequences are in the Future. I worry, what will I do, wll I just won't get paid, whatever. No way I'm going to stick my hand out there and feel that sickening feeling again, the force of the beak yanking the thing from my hand, and that breath, no. I'll stay right here. I sit right here.
I spend the rest of the two hours watching Gill relaxedly walk around the room giving more papers, I guess this is his 9 to 5, you can get used to anything, butchering meat, torturing people, I remember that, not for me anymore though. As he finishes his ream and his two hours he walks over to me and whispers "Just put yours down in the corner there where no one will see it." So I won't have to confess, I go over and do what he says wondering if I'm doing something wrong. As we head to the curtains I see the heads pecking at the spot and then I turn away.
We pass the curtains and go over to a metal plate on the wall, Gill presses a button and out come some coins. "Ah! Another day another dollar!" He smiles, moves away and motions me over. I press the button, and out comes the same amount of coins.
"Heyy! Look at you!"
I look at the coins in my hand, then stretch it over to him.
"Take it, dude. I don't need it."
He shakes his head no and pushes my hand softly away. "Keep it, man. You've earned it."
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