Chapter 11

Edward sat naked and cross-legged on a wooden platform in his living room. The platform sat in front of a window which looked out over a deep green valley below. The click of an egg timer and the growling voice of jazz singer mingled in the background. Edward, oblivious to all the extraneous sound, sat staring at a freckle on his arm. He had been staring at the same freckle for the last hour; trying, unsuccessfully, to comprehend, if any, its significance.
“I got into a fight today,” he said, breaking the silence in the room.
As if from nowhere, a soft female voice responded.
“With who?”
“Some guy on the train,” said Edward. “He was talking to his friend, they were both fish vendors, and laughing loud enough for everyone in the car to hear. I asked him politely to quiet down and he told me to go fuck myself. I slammed his face into the wall.”
“Why did you do that, Edward?”
“I don’t know. Self-defense, maybe? I wasn’t even angry. It was just the way he looked at me when I asked him to stop laughing. Like I was asking him to jump off the train. Like he couldn’t understand why I was even talking to him.”
Edward stopped for a moment and looked out across the valley.
“After I threw his head into the wall he got up and took a few swings at me. I didn’t even try to dodge them. He landed a few punches on my side and, when I didn’t move, he just stared at me. He had blood running down from his forehead and he screamed at me to leave and go to the next car. I didn’t really think that I was the one that should have left, but I didn’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Did you think that punching the man wouldn’t cause any trouble?”
“Well, no, but that’s not the point. You see, this is why I hate talking to you things. You hear what I’m saying, but you run around the point.”
“What is the point, Edward?” asked the voice from nowhere
Edward sat quiet for a moment.
“Anyway, that’s what happened. Now I’m here. I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to do. Terrence is dead. It would have been easier with two people, but now…”
Edward closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.
“Why do you sigh, Edward?”
“I’m just trying to figure out a way to make all this work.”
Edward picked up an apple lying in a wooden bowl next to the platform and took a bite.
“Could you play back the entry from two weeks ago again?”
“Of course,” said the voice, “Journal entry from July twenty-fourth twenty-twelve.”
Edward laid back on the platform as his own voice suddenly filled the room.
“So, the concert date has been set. It will be a set of Ravel, Chopin, and Paganini. Should be one hell of a show.”
The same female voice responded as before.
“You don’t sound excited, Edward. What is the problem?”
“Well, it’s not as simple as the other ones.”
“What is difficult?”
“It’s the Acolytes. They’ve been on us about our choice of music lately. Never thought they would care, but apparently we’ve drawn some attention. They stopped Terrence on his way to the Pony this morning and took away his clothes. They told him that our choice of music wasn’t very ‘mathematically conscious’ and that we should change our program immediately. He was pretty pissed when he showed up. I can’t really blame him. Apparently he had to ride the train home naked and get another suit. It took me an hour to convince him to stay.”
The voice that sounded like Edward’s went silent for moment before it started again.
“He wouldn’t care so much if he knew how bad it was gonna get. I would tell him, but he’d probably quit; if he even believed me at all.”
Another moment of silence passed.
“If they knew who they were dealing with they’d have shut us down months ago. So far I’ve been able to keep Terrence’s name on everything, so that shouldn’t become a problem. Anyway, it’ll all work out. Somehow.”
“End of entry,” said the female voice.
“Guess I should have told him what could happen,” said Edward as he sat back up, facing the window.
“The time you have allotted yourself for meditation is up Edward. Do you wish for this entry to be saved?” asked the voice
“No,” said Edward, “I’d rather forget this day.”
He got up and walked over to a wooden shelf on the side of the room. After pulling a white rectangular box from the shelf, he made a series of quick movements across the top of it. The box hummed for a moment and then a soft female voice emanated from it.
“Day erased.”