Showstopper
by
Warren J. Rosaluk
Copyright 1986 by Warren J. Rosaluk
"Odd kid," they said. "He’ll grow out of it."
Walter dismissed his observation as simply the result of his new eyeglasses and tried to ignore it. When he was twenty-one, however, the pause lengthened. People were frozen like statues for a full second before he departed an area and for a similar period when he returned.
His father grumbled, "We give him everything he wants, and this is how he repays us, with stories and lies." Then he suggested his son see a psychiatrist.
Walter, pushed his newer, thicker lens closer to his eyes and said, "No!"
An easy target for scorn, Walter was tall, stoop-shouldered, and gaunt. Worse, he was plagued with a large nose, a mass of uncombable black hair, and a wardrobe that a co-worker once described as "leftovers from a Salvation Army fashion show." Rarely befriended, he faced his problem alone.
Things worsened several years later when the frozen moment stretched suddenly to ten seconds. Moreover, he no longer had to leave the room for people and things to freeze; sometimes, all he had to do was turn his back.
Although he could now sneak into movies without paying, Walter was increasingly troubled. So, on his twenty-fifth birthday, he went to see a psychiatrist.
"Walter, do you drink?" asked the therapist. "Alcohol, I mean."
"No. It makes me upchuck."
"Have you ever done drugs? Be honest with me."
Walter cleared his throat. "I smoked some pot once, but all it did was make me upchuck."
The psychiatrist, after careful consideration, said, "Walter, these little hallucinations of yours are simply mild delusions of grandeur. You were spoiled as a child, and you think that the world exists only to provide a stage for your actions."
Walter disagreed. "It took me five years to finish high school, and I flunked out of college. I've had seven jobs in six years. My parents think I'm crazy, not spoiled. The people I work with think I'm eccentric, and women think I'm weird. How can I possibly have delusions of grandeur?"
"Simply disregard these mirages and they will go away. You may pay on your way out."
When Walter stepped toward the door, the psychiatrist froze in mid-scribble, mouth agape. Shaking his head, Walter left without paying.
A year later, the stoppage expanded to one full minute. Walter discovered he could spy at leisure on women in department store dressing rooms. He also discovered two men were following him.
The men were dressed in white suits, white shirts, white ties, and white shoes. Their socks, however, were black and so was the taller of the two men. The men never talked to him, and they never froze. Occasionally, they would take notes on green glowing clipboards, but mostly they just stared at him.
Once, Walter hollered, "If you're from the psychiatrist's office, tell him I'll pay his damn bill. But everything he said was wrong!" The men didn't answer, so Walter never paid the bill.
Two years later, the problem reached a crescendo. The frozen moment swelled to five minutes, and Walter, tired of free movies and motionless women in their underwear, asked a homely, shapeless coworker for a date, and she answered, "Who are you?", shattering the remaining shards of his self-esteem, and the men in white spoke to him.
"Excuse me," said the taller one. "You're Walter Lott Mudge, aren't you?"
Walter nodded.
"May I see your driver's license please?"
The second man, short and corpulent, barked, "We know who he is. We don't need any ID. We just need him to come with us."
The taller man responded, "This is our first assignment, and we should do it by the book."
"Where to?" asked Walter. "Back to the psychiatrist again?"
The men in white laughed mechanically.
"Of course not," said the short man. "We know you're not crazy. You're just out-of-sync."
"What?"
"Out-of-sync. You know, like when the movie's soundtrack is a little off from the picture."
"And when you zig, everyone else zags," said the tall black man, his hands twisting and turning in demonstration.
"And you feel misunderstood, unloved, a day late and a dollar short," added the short man.
"Ah," said Walter. "I know what you mean."
"Well, we're here to solve that problem."
"Who are you?"
"We're from Headquarters."
"Headquarters?"
"You know, the Big Guy."
"You mean -- ?"
"Yes," said the short one, "Father Time."
Adjusting his bifocals, Walter asked, "There really is a -- ?"
The tall man interrupted. "I'm sorry, but we can't dawdle. We have less than a mini-micro-era to get you back in sync."
"What he means is," said the short man, "this can only be done at exactly three hours past sunrise on the third Tuesday of the third month of the year. And that's in four minutes. So, let's get this show on the road."
"If you think we can eliminate the frozen moments, I'm willing to give it a try."
"We need someplace private."
Walter said, "Let's go to the conference room."
Once they were behind the closed door, the taller man consulted a checklist on his clipboard. He said, "I think this would work better if you were wearing all white."
The shorter man corrected him. "No, Change 17 said color of clothing should make no difference. All he needs to do is jump backward exactly thirty-three inches."
"Change 64 said to jump forward thirty-three inches," said the tall man.
The door opened and Walter's boss leaned into the room. "Oh, there you are, Walter. The revised client data base analysis is due at noon today. Make sure you get it done on time. And this time, make sure you get it right."
"Yes, Mr. Smith. It's on your -- "
Slam! His boss was gone.
"Maybe I should get back to -- "
"Not yet," interrupted the taller man. "It's almost time to jump."
"Don't forget. He only needs to hold his breath for three seconds, not thirty."
"Right," said the tall man. "Change 76."
The other man stared at his watch and counted the seconds. "Ten ... nine ... eight ... "
The taller man measured to a spot thirty-three inches in front of Walter's shoes and marked it with his finger, leaving a shimmering dash of green light.
"Six ... five ... four ... "
The two men in white stood either side of Walter, each holding one of his elbows.
Walter said, "I hope I don't upchuck."
"Two ... one ... jump!"
Walter held his breath as the three of them leaped together. Walter's heels came down precisely on top of the shimmering dash. The men stood in silence and looked around.
"Exhale!" commanded the short man.
Walter complied loudly. "Did it work?"
"Let's go see," said the shorter man.
Walter opened the door and walked into a central work area. He grinned when he saw that everyone and everything was in motion without hint of delay. A computer printer chattered, a phone rang, a clerk crossed the room.
"Hey Walt!" called a man sitting in front of a computer screen. "When you get a chance, I could use your help debugging this program."
As Walter nodded uncertainly, he was approached by his boss.
"Walt! Great job on the data base analysis. I'd look for a little something extra in your next paycheck, if I were you."
Walter's eyes widened. "Thanks, Mr. Smith."
His boss clapped him on the shoulder. "What's this Mr. Smith business? Call me Smitty."
As Smitty left, a slender secretary swayed past. "Hi, Wally-baby. Are we still on for lunch?"
"Uh, sure thing, Vicki," he answered.
Walter turned to the men in white and said, "It worked! It really worked!"
"Yes!" chorused the two men in white, slapping hands. "Now let’s take care of the paperwork."
They returned to the conference room. As he closed the door, Walter glanced back at his co-workers. They were still in motion. It was true. The frozen moment had been defrosted!
The taller man said, "Walter, all we need now is your signature on this form. Sign all three copies please."
"What is it?"
"A release. Just routine."
As Walter wrote his name three times, he noticed that each repetition was larger, bolder, and more sweeping. "I can't wait until we present our report at the convention next decade," said the shorter man to his companion. "The first successful identification and resynchronization of an out-of-sync person since the forty day flood!"
"Right!" said the tall man. "Our report will be a real showstopper! We'll be up for Rookies of the Millennium!"
They shook hands all around. The men in white exited, closing the door behind them. Walter carefully folded his copy of the form. He was so happy, he was tingling. The tingling quickly became a general stiffness, and Walter -- poor Walter -- was frozen like a statue.
-30-
Copyright 1998-2009 by Warren J. Rosaluk
Warren J. Rosaluk
7090 South Fillmore Court
Centennial, Colorado 80122