The Prophecy
A Short Story
It was another standard work day until I met him, Fate, on the subway. He looked just like the rest of them, minus the over-sized book that rivalled the Bible in size. People on the subway all have a certain look, a cold stare that says almost nothing. Like they are frozen in time until they arrive at their job. I had one of those jobs and I suppose you could say that I am also one of those people. Physically speaking, I do not really stand out. What I have going for me is a hustle mentality, passed down from generation to generation. I believe in hard work primarily, it got me promoted quickly right out of school at my insurance firm. Some people called me a prodigy. I suppose that brought certain pressure with it but it also gave me a great sense of pride. I thought about how far I had come, surrounded by the men and women in suits, and the odd homeless man trying so hard to score some of this success. A donation of coin or perhaps even a bill. Then there was the man with the oversized book, a book so large, reading it seemed to be almost out of the question. I moved from my seat towards where the man was sitting, who was deep in thought. I was drawn to him.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” I said.
“Not at all, in fact, I believe that seat was meant just for you.”
“What do you mean,” I asked, I became more curious.
“Look around you, this entire subway is packed and only this one seat is open, what do you think that means?” said the mysterious man.
“I have never seen you around before, who are you?”
“I am Fate, pleased to meet you.”
I looked around more closely, determined to find one of my friends lurking nearby, surely in on some kind of elaborate prank. After sitting down with a slight hesitation, I began speaking to this man who called himself Fate. I had nothing to do for the next thirty-one minutes anyway, any form of entertainment was welcome.
“All right Fate, I am Charles,” I said.
“I just finished writing your final chapter, the life of Charles Dempsey,” Fate said. “The ink is still wet.”
“My final chapter?” I said. “You sure are not one for small talk.”
“Small talk is for people like Bob over there,” Fate said. “Bob will die thirteen years from now in a car crash. He will continue to pretend like he isn’t balding and slowly rotting away, working for promotions that mean nothing and keep him away from his family. His wife will leave him before he dies.”
I was beginning to think this strange man on the subway might just be a crazy man or a figment of my imagination. Feeling the weirdness of the situation, I got up from my seat and got off the subway, two stops too early. The thought of walking four extra blocks in this heat instead of listening to someone who may or may not be a lunatic seemed enticing. I was still half expecting to wake up in my bed, sweating and recognizing that I had yet another crazy dream.
I headed home and decided to use my oven for the first time. I entered my apartment, on the top floor in the middle of the city. The last time I had made lasagna was when my mother was teaching me how to cook. She gave me a crash course right before I went to college, a crash course that I am sure many mothers were giving their soon to be college student sons and daughters. Things were very different back then, so much uncertainty from my parents. I opened the oven and removed the plastic and boxes still placed inside. For the first time in a while I had the urge to cook something from scratch rather than grabbing a quick bite to eat down the street. I went into the bedroom to change into a t-shirt when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. What stared back at me was someone who put life on hold to make sure his career improved at the appropriate pace. A small bulge, big enough to notice when wearing a tight shirt replaced the six pack I once had. Without wanting to, I thought back about my experience on the subway. How could someone write someone’s life just like that? Was Bob going to do exactly what Fate said he would? Why is Fate a male? Does Fate have a gender or know what the concept is? Life was moving so fast that questions like these never entered the forefront of my mind. I collapsed onto my bed.
I spent that night being restless, dreams coming and going, not really remembering any of it. It was time for another day of work, the daily routine began feeling increasingly mundane. It felt like this strange man on the subway had implanted a seed within my mind, one that was beginning to grow and slowly take hold. I headed to work, taking the same route I always did. This week was important for my firm as the quarterly results would be shared soon. We had to make sure all our numbers were in and accounted for. This was typically the most stressful week for most of us, one where sleeping longer than five hours was considered a luxury. Some people in the office took great pride in finishing their quarterly reports first while sleeping as little as possible.
I spent the next few hours doing exactly what was expected of me, working on reports that outlined just how great we were doing. If needed, we changed some of the statistics or focused on different metrics to make sure we always told a positive story. For the first time since I started at the firm, I realized that the extra money and promotions would never satisfy me. Was this because I had met Fate or had the thought always been in my mind? I decided to call my father, who was a professor of philosophy at the University of Boston, for more answers. The phone rang four times before he answered.
“Hey dad, I don’t have a lot of time, it’s crunch time at the firm,” I said. “Do you believe in Fate and how much control do you think we really have?”
“Wow, you have never asked me anything like this before, son.”
“Yea I know it’s a weird question, especially coming from me.”
“I believe we more or less are able to decide on multiple outcomes in our lives, like traveling on one road that forks off at certain points. These forks are either created by our decisions or already exist. It is hard to know how much impact certain decisions have on our lives.”
“I am starting to question whether or not I am living for me, or just existing along this path without ever having made any real decisions to benefit myself,” I said.
“Son, you are a successful insurance broker and I will always be proud of you.”
“ Thanks dad, I will call you after this crazy week so that we can catch up.”
Our brief conversation left me with more questions than I had intended on. His answer seemed to be quite ambiguous. I left work early that Thursday, my head was exploding with thoughts, like a great flood gate had opened and there was nothing to stop it. Had I just spent my life meandering along this singular path? Had I missed all the forks in the road while chasing these promotions that led to a fancy, empty apartment? The subway arrived on my platform exactly as I arrived. I sat down inside, it was quiet at 3:15pm. I loosened my tie and the top button of my suit and spotted him sitting just a few seats away, writing in his massive book.
“Hey, it’s you again.”
“Hey Charles, how are you?”
“You really threw a wrench into my life, I feel like you opened Pandora’s box.”
“I simply made you question your existence, don’t see it as Pandora’s box, Charles.”
I prepared to give him a response, but he was gone. Reality and dream weaved together, I began to feel truly lost. The steadiness of the subway became the backdrop, the constant thing that underlined deep thought. I always considered myself a pragmatic and logically driven person, so I grabbed a notebook and began to ask myself a number of questions.
If money was no object, which in my case, it was not, I decided that I would open up a publishing house, focusing on works of fiction. I began day dreaming about how I used to always have a book in my hand and the short stories I used to write in high school. Many of my stories were sold to interested class mates, stories that increased in craziness as high school went on. For the first time in years, I felt a sense of euphoria, like falling in love for the first time. I began to brainstorm in that same notebook on how I was going to run my own publishing company. The subway sped along at its meandering pace and I forgot where I was but I did not care to get off. It did not take long before I had a fully-fledged business plan written up. The subway continued to go in circles through the city, I decided to stop on the third or fourth cycle and headed up to my apartment. I headed over to my oven, new and never used, and removed the boxes and plastic that were still inside. I was determined to finally make something from scratch, lasagna seemed like the obvious choice. I wanted to change into something more comfortable and headed towards the bedroom and undressed and fell into a deep sleep. The final thoughts before I closed my eyes were, I’m quitting my job tomorrow.
I woke up feeling groggy, like I had only spent a few hours in a dreamlike state. My bedroom looked different, more clinical and my personal furniture seemed to have disappeared. I looked down at my legs and arms, they were restrained with leather straps attached to my bed. I wanted to scream but nothing would come out.
“We knew you didn’t have it in you, Mr. Dempsey,” said the mysterious man while unhooking the restraint covering my mouth. “There is no reason to call out for help or shout, we are in a sound proof room.”
“What is this!” I said as my body went into shock.
“You are in our new state-of-the-art career development center, your company hired us to determine if you had it in you to become partner,” the man said. “I am afraid you failed the test.”
“Wha- What do you mean, career development?”
“The top companies in the city hire us to infiltrate your mind, with a chip, which you swallowed during breakfast yesterday morning. We run a simulation that is so real that you are not aware of it. The goal is to determine if you have what it takes to become partner of your firm. You see, they cannot take chances on promoting people to partner if you are still dreaming of following your dreams. They need 100% commitment. Fate, the man you met on the subway is our most convincing AI model yet, built to infiltrate your deepest layers of desire. Even desires that lay dormant for many years.”
“This is sick,” I said as I began to struggle against my constraints.
It seemed futile to resist but worth a shot anyway.
“I want to speak to my lawyer.”
The mysterious man, dressed in a fine black suit with a dark blue tie, continued to speak. He was very meticulous in his delivery of words.
“I’m afraid we have passed that point. We do admire your dreaming, Mr. Dempsey. Most of our targets dream of just becoming famous, an actor or celebrity. Not many have a clear business idea in mind, most don’t even consider their passions. Being just famous seems enough.”
“What happens now?” I said. “You release me, I sign some kind of document and I go on my way?”
“Like I said before, Mr. Dempsey, we have passed that point. You gave yourself to your firm, a highly respected one at that. Your firm has given you everything you dreamed of, millions of men would dream of what you have. Many slave away at meaningless jobs for nothing. There is no more room in this new society of ours for dreamers like you. You are a wasted resource, a wasted mouth to feed, a wasted being taking up space. How do you suppose we keep everything running?”
All hope disappeared as two more men, who looked almost identical to my captor, came into the room with suitcases. They opened them up in front of me, revealing its contents, a set of syringes with a gooey green liquid inside. I wanted to scream, one final time, but this was halted as soon as the mysterious man placed my mouth restraints back on. It was impossible to move or speak, all of my freedom had been stripped away slowly at first, but now with greater speed. There was no chance for me now. The injections entered my veins as I left the room forever.
Free at last.
The End
