Short story: THE SWARMING

THE SWARMING

(Any city, last night)

Security Guard: “Working late Ms. Butterworth?”

Butterworth: “Well Joseph, it’s nearly midnight, so what do you think?”

Security Guard: “Yes, ma’am… Would you like me to have someone walk you to your car?”

Butterworth: “I’m a grown woman.”

Security Guard: “Yes…Well… Goodnight Ms. Butterworth.”

Butterworth: “Goodnight.”

****

Boo: “Boo!”

Butterworth: “Get out of my face moron! You heard me!… Get out of… Wow, I’m impressed. Imagine, your very own broken bottle… Hey! Be careful with that you idiot! I'm afraid you're SOL… no money… except maybe thirty cents in change.”

Boo: “Ah! Really sorry ta hear ‘dat. Maybe one of my buddies can lend you a fiver. Ms. Butterworth…"

Butterworth: "How did you know my…"

Boo: …. allow me to introduce you to Mr. Pot, Mr. Blade, and Mr. Cap. Whada you say Mr. Blade? Can we help Miss Clunky Shoes out of her financial situation?”

Blade: “I can help her out of this world.”

Pot: “Out of this world... out of this wonderful wonderland of wired wickedness.”

Blade: “Why’d we bring this dope head along Cap?”

Pot: “Shut your silly sound trap Blade, I’m merely a social drug addict.”

Boo: “Boo!”

Butterworth: “What the hell do you guys want! And how do you know my name?”

Cap: “What do we want? That’s a good question. Personally I want peace on earth and an end to global warming. Mr. Pot, as you have already heard, just wants to get high. Mr. Boo gets his kicks from frightening people, and Mr. Blade, well unfortunately for you, he likes cutting.”

                       

Butterworth: “There are cops everywhere.”

Blade: “Everywhere but here, Blondie. And it’s true. I am fond of the sticky red stuff.”

Cap: “So Ms. Butterworth, this is the point when you tell us you have some contagious disease.”

Boo: “Head mice or somethin’.”

Blade: “Lice, you idiot. It’s head lice.”

Pot: “Curious creatures of the Cane’s cavernous creation.”

Blade: “Shut it coke head!”

Boo: “What does Butterworth do anyway?”

Cap: “We know what she does – that’s why we’re here.”

Boo: “Where did she git those clunky shoes. Yo Blade! You remember that chick we did a couple weeks ago. The one with the sparkly earrings?”

Blade: “She was a real bleeder.”

Boo: “Not talkin’ about ‘dat, remember her shoes?”

Blade: “No.”

Boo: “Sure you do. Big clunky shoes with the two brass coloured buckles. Remember now? You got any footware with brass buckles Miss Clunky Shoes?”

Butterworth: “This from a petty criminal who wears standard issue punk hoodie, baggy ghetto pants and a stolen pair of two-hundred dollar basketball shoes or did you get the money from your mother after she turned a few tricks?”

Cap: “Whoa! That was mean.”

Butterworth: “Well you know, ‘what goes around comes around’.”

Cap: “Ain’t it the truth.”

Butterworth: “So listen Mr. Cap. That’s my car, so… right now… you… are… going… to… get… out of my… way… so… that… I… can...”

Boo: “Afraid not Clunky Shoes.”

Blade: “Ditto that. You’re not going anywhere Blondie. Not ‘till we’re finished anyway.”

Butterworth: “Finished? Finished with what exactly?”

Boo: “Finished wit you, Miss Clunky Shoes.”

Butterworth: “It’s ‘with you’ not ‘wit you’. Try going to school moron.”

Boo: “You know I resent that! In fact I went to a very good school for more than a few years.”

Blade: “Years in the Vice-Principal’s office. Don’t remember ever seeing you in a classroom.”

Boo: “Whoooa Blade, you and Miss Clunky Shoes gangin’ up on me? My ergo is gonna be hurt.”

Cap: “Actually it’s ‘ego’ Boo. You seem to be fond of insulting people Ms. Butterworth.”

Butterworth: “Not people, just moronic petty criminals who assault me in dark parking lots and prevent me from reaching my fuc...”

Pot: “NO! PROHIBITED! PROFANITY PROHIBITED!”

Butterworth: “... car.”

Blade: “Assault? Hey, we haven’t touched you. Not yet anyway. But that could change in a heartbeat Blondie.”

Butterworth: “You seem to be big on threats Mr. Blade but up to now I haven’t...”

Blade: “See this Blondie? Six inches of tempered steel, serrated on the top. Business edge sharpened with loving care. Like to have a feel?... didn’t think so.”

Butterworth: “Moron.”

Boo: “Hey Blade she really loves that moron word eh?”

Blade: “No I think she just likes insulting people. That it Blondie? You like it don’t you? Bet you like insulting the people you manage.”

Butterworth: “No.”

Cap: “Sure she does.”

Blade: “Yeah.”

Pot: “Understood by the lion and the bee, the truth shall set you free.”

Butterworth: “What the hell is your friend on?”

Cap: “You might want to answer the question, do you or do you not insult the people you manage?”

Butterworth: “What make you think I'm some kind of manager."

Cap: "Do you or…"

Butterworth: "NO!"

Boo: “Cap, let's get on with this”

Butterworth: “Cap?...Captain? So you’re in charge of this little band of druggies and cut-throats.”

Boo: “Somebody’s coming.”

Blade: “Play it cool Blondie or not even your family will recognize your face once I’ve finished with you.”

Jack: “Evening Myrna.”                                                        

Butterworth: “Oh Hi Jack.”

Jack: “Everything OK?”

Butterworth: “Perfect. These gentlemen are... friends... friends of my sister.”

Jack: “Good work on that Shippen account.”

Butterworth: “Thanks...Ahhh Jack?”

                                                           

Jack: “Yes Myrna?”

Butterworth: “No. I was just going to say good night.”

Jack: “ 'Night Myrna.”

Boo: “So what? You gotta a sis, but bet you ain’t got no friends...”

Blade: “Or a Mr. Blondie to keep you warm at night.”

Pot: “Or the pretty pitter-patter of petite feet in the arena of precocious presence.”

Blade: “Bet you got lots of enemies though.”

Boo: “One anyway, Miss Clunky Shoes.”

Butterworth: “Really! An’ just what did I do to you, Oh illiterate one?”

Boo: “Whooa...not me Clunky Shoes. You ain't even a blip on my radar.”

Cap: “So what's the problem with your love life Ms. Butterworth? Long hours at work? Lack of eligible bachelors?

Boo: “Probably scared ‘em off with ‘dem shoes.”

Pot: “Funky footwear functional but fal… sorry… swallowed the wron… (COUGHING)”

Boo: “Yo. You OK Chris?”

Blade: “No real names Boo. You know that!”

Butterworth: “I have a bottle of water in my car.”

Boo: “Mr. Pot… you want me to find you something to drink?”

Pot: “No… thanks… good… I’m good as a pipe fulla Guatamala Gol…”

Butterworth: “Hey guys, Chris is obviously in some kind of respiratory distress. Why aren’t you helping him?”

Blade: “Shut up Blondie.”

Butterworth: “Some friends you are. Take this tissue. See if you can spit up some of that… good.”

Blade: “Disgusting.”

Butterworth: “Ignore Mr. Blade, Chris. He wouldn’t have let you suffer if he cared about you.”

Cap: “I believe that you have been told to be quiet Ms. Butterworth.”

Butterworth: “You feeling better Chris?”

Pot: “Yea… good... asthma.”

Butterworth: “Which is often triggered by stress or abuse so Captain you might want to instruct your guys to lighten up on poor Chris.”

Boo: “Yea Blade, lighten up on Mr. Pot.”

Blade: “Kiss my ass Mr. Boo and you use his name one more time and you’ll be eligible for disability insurance.”

Cap: “Enough!”

Butterworth: “Thank you Cap. I was hoping that you would finally…”

Cap: “Shut up Butterworth!”

Butterworth: “Oh. I see what’s happening. No more Ms. Butterworth. You think by stripping me of my title you will in some way dehumanize me? That it Captain? That’s how they did it during slavery. Stripped the Africans of their names, gave them numbers. You guys gonna give me a number. Will that make it easier to rob me, rape me, kill me?”

Pot: “Ms. Butterworth, you got another tissue?”

Butterworth: “Of course Chris… here.”

Butterworth: “Captain. You’re the leader here. It’s your responsibility to get your friend to a doctor. People die of asthma you know.”

Blade: “Shut up Blondie. He look like the guy’s mother?”

Boo: “Blade! Why you have to be like dat? You wan’ us to take you to da hospital Bro?”

Pot: “No. I’m good.”

Butterworth: “You and Blade friends Chris?”

Pot: “Not really.”

Butterworth: “That it Captain? You, Mr. Blade and Boo just using Chris? What? Payin’ him chump change just ‘cause you…”

Blade: “Chump change? My parents used to talk like that Blonde. Nobody says ‘chump change’ anymore. Anyway, you’re full of…”

Butterworth: “And what happens if all of you and Chris get caught? You thought about what jail time would mean for poor Chris? You think prison doctors are likely to provide him with the level of medical ca…”

Albert: “Bravo!”

Butterworth: “Which one of you said that?”

Blade: “Not us Blondie.”

Albert: “Bravo!”

Butterworth: “Who’s out there?”

Albert: “Good Evening Ms. Butterworth. Mr. Boo gave you quite a fright when he first confronted you. Amazing how effective a simple ‘boo’ can be.”

Butterworth: “Who the hell are you?”

Albert: “… but you recovered quickly, as I knew you would, still there was significant residual fear. I noted it at exactly… pardon me while I refer to my notes… oh yes, here it is… at 10:44, I was hoping that you could tell me at what point you realized that you could not bully yourself out of this predicament?”

Butterworth: “I recognize that wheelchair. The stickers on the side and the…”

Albert: “I, however, found that in the early stages of my session, your inclination to insult my friends was an especially poor choice for a lone woman surrounded in a deserted parking lot by four strange men.”

Boo: “So Albert, we done here or what?”

                                   

Albert: “Not just yet. May I ask three of you to remain a bit longer?”

Blade: “Pleasure.”

Boo: “Sure.”

Albert: “Mr. Pot, perhaps you should get out of this night air.”

Pot: “Thanks Albert.”

Albert: “No Mr. Pot. Thank you for a job well done. Should I call you a taxi?”

Pot: “My girlfriend is comin' to pick me up. Later guys.”                            

Boo: “Later Mr. Pot.”

Blade: “Night homeboy.”

Cap: “Get better guy.”

Butterworth: “What the hell are you writing in that notebook?”

Albert: “Sorry. It's crucial to keep accurate notes. Anyway, You used to pass by my desk every morning on your journey from the elevator to your office. Always in a rush. Never a good morning or hello. Never even a glimmer of recognition that we existed. In fact, during the nine, horrid months that I worked for Vision Call Centre, the only time you ever spoke to any of us service representatives was to summon one of us to your office where you would proceed to heap abuse and scorn on some hapless employee.”

Butterworth: “Awww. Did I hurt your feelings Albert?”

Albert: “Not mine. But as a psychology major, I found your behaviour quite fascinating in a perverse kind of way.”

Butterworth: “Glad I was entertaining. You and your buddies going to let me go now?”

Albert: “… after I left your employ I had difficulty finding work in my chosen profession so, since no company would employ me in their clinical trials, I decided to initiate my own... on the street… not with mice but with people. My area of special interest is people with character-sets like yours. You know several of my past subjects have tried the divide-and-conquer tactic but with considerably less success. You however, employed the technique with impressive skill.”

Butterworth: “This whole thing is a science experiment!”

Albert: “Actually, I refer to it as a Clinical Confrontation. Within which there is, of course, no pass or fail, hire or fire. But these little episodes give me the empirical data that I require to build a sufficiently accurate computer-based model. Not to harp on this aspect of our session but you managed admirably to work up my associates into a critical mass of emotion. You had almost turned the tide in your favour. That’s very important to you isn't it Ms. Butterworth? Winning. It's important to you.

Boo: “It’s getting late Albert man.”

Albert: “I am aware of the time Mr. Boo.”

Butterworth: “Albert. Albert what?”

Albert: “Albert Peter Parker Bransano. You read comics? Spiderman for instance?”

Butterworth: “I grew up.”

Albert: “ 'I grew up'. Excellent. Completely in character.”

Butterworth: “You take a lot of notes.”

Albert: “Yes. Fortunately my lower disc injury didn’t affect my upper body mobility. But enough about me. Would it be rude of me to ask if you come from a single parent home?”

Butterworth: “Would it be rude of me to try ensure that you and your band of thugs spend the rest of your sorry lives in jail for assault and kidnapping?”

Albert: “ 'Continued intimidation attempts'. Excellent!”

Boo: “Albert?”

Albert: “You may go Mr. Boo. Thank you. Mr. Blade, you as well.”

Boo: “Thanks Albert man.”

Blade: “Later Albert. Goodnight Blondie. Sorry I didn’t have the opportunity to get up close and personal. Maybe another time.”

Albert: “I’m through with you as well, Myrna.”

Butterworth: “It’s Ms. Butterworth!”

Albert: “Not in my laboratory… actually, before you go, let me thank you. I have learned a great deal from this little encounter and will probably learn even more once I have the opportunity to compile my notes. I wonder whether what, if anything, you may have learned?”

Butterworth: “I give you a day, maybe less before the cops have your ass behind bars.”

Albert: “You seem transfixed on communicating the details of our little session to the police but I wonder, what will you report? Were you harmed? Robbed? Assaulted? Indeed not. We were, in fact, merely having a little chat.”

Butterworth: “That what you call it? A chat?”

Albert: “Good night Myrna.”

Butterworth: “No. No. You’re not going to get off that easy Bransano.”

Albert: “Explain please.”

Butterworth: “I want to know what you’re studying.”

Albert: “I told you, people.”

Butterworth: “You said people like myself. What does that mean?”

Albert: “If you’ll excuse me, it’s late and I still have much work to do before I turn in for the night. I prefer to record the details of my Clinical Confrontations while the memories are still fresh.”

Butterworth: “Hypothesis. You must have one.”

Albert: “But of course. No self-respecting behavioural psychologist would leave home without one, but you know the hypothesis, having recited it to my friend Mr. Cap not more than a few minutes ago.”

Butterworth: “I said what a few minutes ago? What?... Hey! Bransano! Get back here. This isn’t over. You and your friends are nothing but a bunch of illiterate bullies. Bransano! You won’t get away with this… you’ll see… what goes around, comes around!”

THE END