Told By No One: Stories From the Inanimate

He arrived home from school early that day and poured himself a glass of orange juice. He dropped two ice cubes in. He like his juice extra cold. He took his drink to the computer, which was located on a cluttered desk in the corner of the living room. He had been assigned a book report that wasn’t due for another week, but, he thought, why not get a head start? He turned on the computer.

He leaned back and stretched as the machine started up. When he heard the familiar welcoming chime, he double clicked the Internet icon. “Ow!” he exclaimed. Something had stung him on the nape of his neck. He turned around and saw that a large man with a crew cut was standing behind him. He was wearing reflective sunglasses and an all-black suit. He had some sort of gun in his hand. “Who are you?” the boy asked. “How did you get in my house?”

“Son, I’m the United States of America. I’m here for your own safety and protection and to preserve the well being of your compatriots. The sensation you felt on your neck only a moment ago was simply a tracking device I have implanted in you.”

“Why are you tracking me? Did I do something wrong?”

“It’s all very standard procedure, young man.”

“Look mister, I think you may be confused. I’m just a freshman in high school. All I was doing was getting started on my Harry Potter book report.”

The United States of America put his finger in his ear and brought his mouth close to his lapel. “Uh huh, uh huh. I heard that all right, Bill. Harry Potter. Yeah, better mark as suspicious. Possible connection to al-Qaeda. Heretic. Yeah, you got it.” Now the United States of America reverted his attention back to the boy. “Stay out of trouble, son. And remember, we’re only watching you for your own good.” He stared at the boy for another moment, then turned around and disappeared.

The boy was confused. He rubbed his neck and, sure enough, there was a lump where he had been tracked. He didn’t dwell on it much longer as he noticed his e-mail inbox was inundated with messages. He clicked one at the top of the list that had no subject and was from an unknown sender. He felt something move around in his back pocket. He turned around again. This time there was a short, greasy man standing behind him. His hair was slicked back and he had a very thin moustache. He was wearing a maroon, pinstriped suit. “What is going on?” the boy asked, “Now, who are you?” The man was holding the boy’s wallet.

“So I hears yous wants a bigger, eh, tool, huh? No problemo, I can do dat. Alls yas gotta do is give me this fifty dollars here and in maybe a week or twelve, I’ll go ahead and send you some pills or sumthin. Whaddaya say?”

“Hey, that’s my wallet you’ve got there! Give it back to me!”

“Look kid, don’t you want to get that goil of your dreams? No broad is going to want a needledick schmuck like you unless you hand over those fifty clams!”

“I’m not giving you anything!” The boy snatched back his wallet. “Now get out of my house before I call the cops!”

“Whoa, I ain’t trying to be no wise-guy or nothin’, I’m leavin I’m leavin.” He disappeared.

The boy looked back at his computer and noticed that the message that had been up was now deleted. He looked from his monitor to his keyboard back to his monitor. He gave his head a shake and rubbed his eyes with his palms. “What in the world is going on here?” he asked to nobody. Continuing to look through his inbox, he saw a message from his friend Steven. Delighted to receive virtual mail from his chum, he wasted no time in opening it.

“Oh hey whats up its me steven.”

The boy turned around and there he was! “Hey Steven! What are you doing here?”

“Oh nm just chillin. Check out these awesome pix from the party last night lol.”

This confused the boy. Steven had been sick the day before. Not only that, but he had called the boy last night asking for the homework assignment. The boy took a closer look at Steven and noticed his eyes were glossy. Must still be sick, the boy thought. He was curious about this aforementioned party and its awesome pix so he clicked on the link that Steven provided. When he clicked it, Steven twitched, then vanished. The boy’s computer screen turned bright blue. After becoming weary of trying to restart his machine, the boy threw his arms up in defeat. “What is this!”

Somebody, something, responded.

“ѺᗥϡϟᐝЉЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖҒҎҸᘟѺ ᗥϡϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖҒҎҸԆԶᑓԆ ԶᑓᙰᔒᘟѾ҂ҊҖҒҎҸԆԶᑓϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝ ЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦᙰᔒᘟѾ҂ҊҖҒҎҸԆԶᑓϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝЉ “

The boy sat facing a static blur. It was a seven foot tall transforming cloud. Every second it was a new shape, a newly unrecognizable image. It gave off a soft, chartreuse, incandescent glow and hummed almost imperceptibly. It was a scary thing, it was.

“Wh-what do you w-want?” the boy faltered. “You better g-get out of my house!”

The shape shifting entity flared up and emitted a digitized beep followed by several low growls. It swiftly moved through the boy and toward the computer’s hard drive.

“ᙰᔒѪᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖҒ ҎҸԆԶᑓՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѾ҂ҊҖҒҎҸԆԶᑓᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜ ӅᐰᖚᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖҒ ҎҸԆԶᑓѺᗥϡϟᐝЉЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖ ҒҎҸᘟѺᗥϡϟᐝЉᙰᔒѪՁᓁᕰᓿᐷҦЂҨᖅЋҜӅᐰᖚԃЏᒈᑸᕔᙋЮѨѮѾ҂ҊҖҒҎ ,” it said and extended a pseudopod of an extremity and slowly began to seep into the disk drive.

“Someone! Please help me!” the boy called out. This thing was sneaking its way into his computer and there was nothing he could do about it.

All of a sudden, a flaming pile of bricks fell on the nebulous entity. It let out one last shriek before vanishing in a flash of green light. The bricks seemed to be self-aware; they organized themselves into a neat, flaming stack. They emanated a warmth that made the boy feel safe and secure. “Oh, thank you so much,” the boy said. “What can I do to show you my gratitude?”

The flaming bricks flared and spoke:

“All you must do is keep your firewall and antivirus software up to date.“

And the same goes for all my children out there reading this.