Keys to the game case

“Keys to the game case. Keys to the game case.” The voice over the loud monitor rang out this very instructive statement twice, in case one missed it the first time. However, the tone at the end of the second sentence where the word “case” resided ended on a lower note.

A tall lanky sales rep shuffled over to the video game case pulling out a rainbowed cluster of keys connected to a blue and yellow terra cord with the words, “Go Blue” on them. The keys looked like they had a purpose and the young man looked like he had a purpose with them; each color representing a different section of the store.

“How can I help you sir”, the leggy sales rep asked.

“Nathan, right?”  The prospective customer staring straight at him.

“Yeah, but how did you know my name”. He replied in a stutter. He cocked his head to the side like a knee jerk reaction to wonder and thought to himself, “Oh, this is what George Clooney must feel like when he does this. George Clooney must be wondering all the time.”

The customer pointed at his nametag.

“Oh! Heh! I forgot I was wearing that. How can I help you?”

“God has a plan for you Nathan.”

Nathan nodded in agreement and started opening the case not noticing the serious demeanor of the customer. “Does that plan include me getting you one of these video games?” Nathan stretched out his hand as though he was a model on “The Price is Right” presenting potential prizes to the contestant. The first male price is right model. Bob Barker would not have let that happen but Drew Carey, he might have.

“What is that one about”, the man said pointing at the middle of the case.

 “Ah well”, Nathan chuckled. “I can’t really tell which one your pointing at there”, Nathan’s chuckle was like a taut wet rope descending into a lake over the side of a boat. The man didn’t laugh. Nathan continued, “but the one on the right is about an army Sargent that gets stranded on an alien world and has to, like, ah, shoot his way out. The one on the left is, well, like a steam punk, assassin thriller. It’s a 1^st person shooter game. Are you looking for yourself or, like, a friend or a family member?”

“Which one do you like best Nathan?”

“Well to tell you the truth, I’m not even the video game guy here.” Nathan nodded his head and opened his hands like he was beckoning a baby to come give him a hug. He noticed again that his posture was creating a feeling of wonder growing in him. “I actually work in the music section, that’s my specialty, I majored in music at college. I just graduated actually.”

The man just stood silent never breaking the inquisitive look that arose at the beginning of his question.

“Ahh, well, to answer your question, I like this one.” Nathan pointed at a game with a man holding an axe and dressed in heavy armor with a dragon flying around snow-capped mountains in the background.

“Why do you like that one”, the man asked.

“Well the graphics are awesome and it’s an open world rpg, which is totally cool and the way of the future in video games, I really enjoy the crafting aspect. I’m like, level 100 blacksmithing at only level 20. But, most of all the soundtrack is totally sweet”.

“So you went to college here?”

“Yeah at a local private college.”

“And you are working at an entertainment store with that degree?”

“Well I also run a church praise band, but I don’t get paid for that.”

“Ahh.” The man said and then paused. Nathan nodded waiting for his reply. He was about to speak about another game but the man interrupted him. “God has a plan for you Nathan.”

Still not grasping the man’s serious tone Nathan said, “Yeah, isn’t that great! He’s like, got a plan for us all.”

“Your mother is Patricia right?”

“Yeah, wait, how did you know that”.

“Your dad, is Joseph, but he left your mother when you were younger right?” 

“Hey man, what is this?” Nathan started cautiously surveying his surroundings. He glanced over the next isle and saw the two young boys that come in every day after school to play the in-store consoles. Nothing suspicious there. He leaned back to the man.

“You have no other siblings and you go to resurrection life community church correct?”

“Woe dude, hold up, I’m not in trouble right?”

“No Nathan. Like I said, God has a plan for you.”

“Dude, you’re kind of freaking me out right now. What are you? Like a secret agent?”

“Sure, yes I am like a secret agent of God so to speak. Most people call us angels.”

“Look man, unless you want to buy something I am going to have to ask you to leave.”

“I didn’t come here to buy something. I came here to talk to you.”

“Look, I’ve got to go back cataloging the cd’s in the music section. If you’d like to follow me, you know, I’m not allowed to, like, stop you.” While Nathan locked the game case his sense of wonder now left him and a sense of urgency followed by a sense of paranoia now came over him.

The man followed Nathan to the middle of the store where they kept the music. “It’s quiet here”.

“Yeah, the only people that buy hard copies anymore are old people looking for classical music on cd’s and hipsters buying records. Oh, and the little girls buying the most recent heartthrob but even that is moving more on-line these days.”

“It’s perfect.” The man stared at Nathan as he began labeling the cd’s with discount stickers.

Nathan started labeling a stack of Oasis cd’s. “So what do you mean, you’re an angle? You do realize that sounds pretty crazy?”

“No, I don’t realize that, and if I did I probably wouldn’t be an angel. Do you realize that it’s crazy that you are a human?”

“No because, I’m a human.”

“Exactly.”

“Ok dude, whatever. What is this plan for me?”

“I can’t get in to much detail right now but you will be transported back in time to work amongst the Israelite in Jerusalem.”

“Alright, now I know you’re crazy.  I think you should leave.”

“That’s probably a good idea. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Ok, hurry back now!” Nathan said with several tons of sarcasm in his tone.

“Oh don’t worry”, The man said in a completely earnest tone, “it won’t be till summer when you go on your church camping trip up north.”

“Is that’s when I’m going to be transported back in time?” Nathan said with bent knees while miming “whhhooooo” like a ghost with his hands.

“Probably, we’ll have to see how it goes.”

The man left the store.

Symmetry

“Take any two items and make them exactly the same and set them next to each other. One can create perfection. Symmetry is the great magic that sets man at the footsteps of the gods. It is our key to Mt. Olympus; it is the gift, like a box of chocolates, that gets us laid by handsome goddesses. If a man can take two imperfect things and make them exactly the same it would brand on him perfection; brand not like a slave’s mark or a sailor’s tattoo. It would induce a perfection that is entirely earthly and has no right being in the heavens, like an earth birthmark the volcano glass, obsidian, or the pulley forces that plants our feet to the face of the world. Our deaths are the result of the gods shaving and casting us under the ground. It is our only goal worth achieving, our only journey worth taking. Be a traveler to this destination with me, let me lead you like a knight of pure ambition would lead a party to worship at a great cathedral.”

 There was a pause. I nearly fall out of my chair. The florescent lights of the office/cubicle flickered as they swung. Each wave showed the forest green billiards room like wallpaper. “Sir, we can’t afford to continue to throwing money away on your quest for perfection.”

He continued without skipping a beat. “Nonetheless, that does not change the fact that it is the purpose of a man to take the wild winds of theory and ambition and set them inside himself to sail his soul to the Promised Land.”

“Mr. Zimmer, the company does not have any more discretionary spending. The only way you will be able to fund this is out of the companies employee coffers.” I spoke to him in a tone that I hoped would convey neutral disregard for his rant. His face resembled a fallen statue of Stalin I once saw on the history channel complete with pointy goatee and round-framed spectacles nervously hanging on to a balloon round face. Mr. Zimmer never looked directly at you when he conversed about his business theories.

He continued speaking while still stoking the string tied to the end of his balloon face, “It is the object of the matter that makes the task at hand worth living.”

“Your 2000 employees would argue differently, sir. They need a job. The public needs dashboards for their cars. They need carbon fiber bumpers to aid in a crash, they need aluminum alloy ashtrays for their cigarettes.”

“No one smokes cigarettes anymore”, Zimmer interrupted, “especially in their car. It’s a shame; it was really good for business. Now it seems the entire populous is more concerned about the resale value of their vehicle. This is the state of the heart of men. They have been coddled. They have not had to shit in a hole, shove a man’s innards back into his body after death fell in his gut. Their mothers swaddled their butts and whipped their chins into their teens. They have not fought, therefore they cannot win. If they cannon win they have never run from fear of losing. They have no messes. They pretend there is no race by ignoring their own inevitable mortality. And at their last minutes they shit themselves when they realize the rest of the world is as close to the finish line as they are to the starting point. ”

It was at this point that he filled another glass of whisky and drank it in one swoop. “Do you understand Mr. Summers? Alden right?”

“Yes sir.”

“Alden, do not work at your profession, live your profession. If this is not the job for you then you are dead to me. For between these walls, in this building, tucked into this office, I here live.”

“Sir”, I said now using a tone of forced reason, “Where are we going to get the money to continue your experiments?”

“Experiments? Experiments are a means to prove a point, I am attempting to attain perfection.” 

“You mean you and 5 production workers, 3 researchers and a architectural engineer. All these things cost money, money that the company doesn’t have. You do realize that car sales have been down for the last 3 years?”

Zimmer turned now staring me in the eyes. “If you think you can talk to me like that you have already taken your first step to living your profession. This is your awakening man, your new birth. Next we will wrestle and I will bruise your hip”, Zimmer said this in a studded tenor while proceeding to gently place his shot glass a quarter of an inch above the table then let it fall flush on the table with a “thud”.

“Where would you like me to reallocate the budget, sir”, I sighed.

“Ahhh… don’t retreat!” He yelled throwing his arms into the air and moving his hands back and forth like he was sanding off the ears from his balloon head. “We were just getting started. And anyway, if you leave this office you will be dead.”

“No, I might be dead to you but I won’t die, sir.”

“Alden, I can’t in my right mind ask you to leave knowing it will cause your death. I will not have your blood on my hands. And since you won’t leave because you are afraid of death, then you will have to speak with me. Please speak to me, not to my occupation.” He filled his glass again and swooped another gulp, winced giving a screening of his upper teeth, and lisped a tick that served as a conversational period.

There was no escaping. I had to climb into Zimmer’s space ship if I was to balance the budget.

I kneeled forward in my chair moving my right hand in what I guessed was an inquisitive way. “How can one claim they created perfection if it is actually 5 production workers, 3 researchers and a architectural engineer creating it?”

“Was not the magical shield of Achilles made by Hephaestus but commissioned by his mother, Thetis? I am merely one part of this manufacturing of perfection. My employees should be happy that I am including them in this process whereby imparting a portion of this blessing to them.”

  “Ok.” I said as I leaned back into the office chair and cleaned my right hand of its inquisitive position by placing it to rest in my lap. “Well, how about this. There is a limit to our human ability to observe. How will you know if the two items are identical?”

“There is no need to know. We pursue our goal until it is done. When it is done we must believe that there will be magic. Remember, symmetry is the great magic that sets man at the footsteps of the gods. I can not say what it will look like, but it will be magic.”

I continued to question him, now in a tone that attempted to mimic his. “What does it gain a man to pursue a thing that he will never know on this earth”?

Zimmer leaned back in his chair, took a deep breath and said “Salvation, Alden. It gains a man salvation. You cannot dissuade me of my earnest desire to be saved just as I cannot dissuade you. I can only invite you on my team. We need an accountant and the job is yours if you will have it.”

“And if I leave you believe I will die?”

“Alden, you are already dead. You cannot stay or go. You can believe or stay dead. I invite you to believe and live among us. A man is only as good as the room he lives in and we define the room we live in by ourselves and the people we put in there with us.”

I slipped out of mimicking his tone and back into my usual accountant tenor. “As I said the only way we can continue to fund this activity is to dock your employees pay. I guess the only way you can continue is to fire 5 people and hope the others pick up the slack.”

“Now there is a reasonable explanation. How would I approach this my dear friend Alden?”

“You would want to show compassion I am assuming.”

“Naturally. Continue.”

“Well, I guess the compassionate thing to do is to not fire anyone but to offer 10 people half pay to come work on your experime… err… or… perfection project.” I couldn’t help but stutter and staring at my feat as I said it this next part. “It can’t be too hard to convert 10 people out of 2000.”

Zimmer put down his glass. Got up and grabbed a second glass. Poured scotch in both and raised his glass as if to toast. “Now you are speaking to me my dear Alden. Drink!”

“I’d rather not sir. It’s only 10am.”

“I don’t trust a man that doesn’t drink. Partake with me this single malt whisky and let it strike your soul as a pen does paper.”

“No one get’s fired right?”

“Right.”