The Stench of Death

                                                 The Stench of Death









         Samuel White sat in his casket and stared forward at the screen.

         “God I stink!” he thought and sneered at the sweet, vinegar and dirty sweat sock aroma.  It was the same odor that was there every day, but this day it was much more pungent.  The putrid aroma was becoming like a honey basted well aged pile of compost.  It seemed to get stronger with each passing day.  Another day, another day of decomposition and rot.  He had seen other employees become overtaken by their own overpowering aroma.  It was a clever aroma though, slow in its crescendo, until it was too late for the unfortunate victim. 

         A chip of skin fell off Samuel’s forehead and landed next to the keyboard.  With a sigh he tapped away at the keyboard and blankly stared ahead at the screen in a half-hearted attempt to “Keep the ball rolling!” while he daydreamed of a time prior to when he had committed himself to the pursuit of excellence.  When Samuel first arrived in his three sided coffin he was content interfacing with a keyboard and screen.  But, as time passed, as money passed, he became more like the screen he was interfaced with.  In a relatively short period of time the coffin became his world.  Certainly, when Samuel got home he would interface with his family and friends, but the screen, the stench, the coffin, they preoccupied his mind.

         Suddenly the green light on the console off to the side of the screen began flashing. When Samuel saw this he pulled a quick rush of stale air through his teeth as a sudden rush of worms squirmed through his chest.  After a moment he recognized the number, the worms settled, and he turned back to the screen.  He was not interested in talking with anyone right now, and would respond to their message when he felt more like dealing with an adversarial conversation.

         An icon popped up on his screen and flashed, signaling Samuel had received a new email.  He opened the new message regarding the start time of the retirement potluck for the Senior Chemical Derivative Manager.  Samuel looked at the clock on his desk, etched plastic between two gold plated pillars holding the actual clock, the clock he received for his five year anniversary with The Corporation.  He could not believe he had been dead for over five years now.  The potluck would begin in fifteen minutes.  Samuel realized he would not have sufficient time to finish another case before having to leave, so he decided to invest this time in using the facilities.

         Samuel began locking his settings before he rose from his coffin.  As his fingers automatically struck the keys, he heard a distant interruption of gregarious voices and laughter.  Then his nose wrinkled as a foul stench crept in upon him.

         “What is that stench?” he wondered.  Then he turned to find the CEO of The Corporation standing right in front of him.  Samuel was momentarily astonished and the worms squirmed through Samuel’s chest.  The CEO’s gray-yellow skin stuck tightly to his bones.  Even through the shirt Samuel could see his skeleton and the deep pit in the center of his chest.

         “Thanks for all you do, Samuel,” the husky voice of the CEO rasped as he extended a mottled hand to Samuel.

         Samuel was drawn into the deep pockets in which his dull, black eyes sat. The CEO’s cheeks were sullen and prominent.  The skin of his face was pock marked and rotting off.  Samuel felt lost in those cavernous pools of abyss that stared back at him.

         “Thank you, Mister Feculent,” Samuel replied as he grasped the CEO’s cold, spongy hand.

         “You call me Dan,” the CEO replied as he smiled.  Teeth were missing, and his gums were dark green and oozing dark blood and pus.  Samuel tempered himself to stay still amid the CEO’s horrid stench. 

It was common for the CEO to make his rounds and “thank” all of the employees for their “hard work” whenever he was in the crypt.  The first time or two this happened Samuel was amazed at how the CEO seemingly knew everyone’s name.  At first Samuel was very impressed with this, until the day he realized everyone had a nameplate posted on their coffins.

Samuel’s eyes began to water at the incredibly pungent aroma emanating from the CEO.

      “Okay, you keep up the good work,” the CEO encouraged and then released his grip and moved to the coffin next to Samuel’s.

      Once his screen was secured, Samuel stiffly walked to the men’s room.  His left hip would stick a bit with every step, causing his foot to drag on the floor as he swung it forward.  Samuel did not make eye contact with anyone as he made his way through a sea of odors.

In the men’s room he stopped in front of the mirror and stared at himself for a moment.  He hardly recognized the person staring back at him.  Deep dark pockets hung below his sunken eyes.  His hair had thinned and the color of his skin was ashen gray.  With a sigh of disgust Samuel turned from the mirror and entered a stall.

    He had only been sitting for a minute when he heard the door of the men’s room burst open.  Quick footsteps shuffled to the stall next to him.  After a moment the worms wriggled through Samuel’s chest.  Something pulled his attention to the floor.  Below the wall of the stall next to him Samuel could see the person’s pants crumpled around his ankles with his photo id clipped to his belt.  Big blue eyes on a young vibrant face smiled at Samuel from the id.  Thomas Schmidt was the name below the picture.  The worms squirmed through Samuel again as the bright young face continued to stare at him.

Samuel knew the bright promising eyes no longer sparkled like they did in the picture that stared at him.  An instant of self-consciousness ripped through Samuel and he looked down at his own pants to make certain his picture was not staring at anyone in the stall next to him.  In an effort to ignore Thomas Schmidt staring at him while he tried to take care of business, Samuel stared ahead at the stall door.  The grey door… The cold, grey wall…

    “God dammit! Quit staring at me!” Samuel thought as the staring Thomas Schmidt drove the worms to squirm through Samuel’s chest.  Samuel fought off the shame and anger of having his privacy invaded and forced himself to finish up. 

    He stared at the mirror as he washed his hands.  His cold, lifeless eyes were cloudy grey orbs sunk in deep, dark pockets.  He gruffed at his sallow appearance and deliberately walked out of the men’s room dragging his numb leg as quickly as he could. 

    As Samuel moved through the wide torch lit hall his leg loosened up and began responding more like it did when he was alive.  The foul aroma of decay lingered in the air as Samuel walked past others of varying stench and decay.  Regardless, he knew they were all like him, gaunt, lifeless, and putrid.  Samuel wrinkled his nose in disgust as he climbed the flights of stairs from the catacombs.  He reached ground level.  Walls of giant windows offered the view of a cold, grey sky.  The ground and the streets were wet as if it had recently rained.  Samuel paused for a moment and looked at the world outside of his coffin, the world he once belonged to.

    A bird swooped past the window and caught Samuel’s attention.  He slowly stepped closer to the window and watched as the bird, a robin, landed on the wet grass and began pecking at the soft earth for worms.  Samuel scratched at his chest as he remembered a time when he was youthful and full of life, a time when he looked forward to getting up in the morning, a time before The Corporation accepted him and he accepted death.

    “Boo!” a young woman’s voice boomed as Samuel felt a finger gently poke his ribs.

    He startled and turned quickly to his left to see Kerri grinning at him.  She was young and blonde, had been with The Corporation for longer than Samuel, and he knew she had not even lived yet.  Her eyes were clouded white and sunk deep in their sockets above the skin that flushed tightly against her nearly petrified cheek bones.  She was alive and dead, just like Samuel.  The difference was she did not know it.

    “Sorry. I couldn’t resist,” Kerri confessed and giggled. Her pompous grin pulled her lips back tight, exposing her pus swollen gums.

    Samuel’s lips curled before he leaned in toward Kerri and whispered, “Are you here for the big surprise retirement party?”

    “Oh, yeah, big surprise,” she replied without any discretion.

    Samuel straightened up.  “What did you hear?”

    “Just that he knows about the party,” Kerri said as she stepped past Samuel. 

    Samuel sighed and stepped up along side Kerri and continued to walk with her.  “Thirty-two years, he’s been here,” Samuel offered.

    “I know,” Kerri stated belligerently.  “I can’t believe he’s retiring.”

    “What? Are you kidding me?” Samuel glanced at Kerri with wide eyes.  “I’m thirty-six years old.  That means that poor bastard started working here when I was four years old…  Four years old,” he stressed.  “He should not have been working all those years, he should have been living.  So much happened in that time.  There was so much life to live.”

    “I ‘spose,” Kerri conceded.  “But you can’t live for free.  We all need to work.  And I like coming into work.  I like working with other people, like you,” she said with a tight grin.

    Samuel spit out a loud chuckle when he made eye contact with her.  The fantasy flashed through his mind of him being ten years younger, single, yet still armed with the knowledge of his current age.  A vision of him when he was a younger man taking Kerri from behind exploded through his mind.  He managed to imagine slicing into her four or five times before the image was interrupted by a memory to pay the mortgage.

    He smiled at her as they began to mix with others who were filing into the conference room.  The urge to yell “Moo!” flashed through Samuel’s mind as the staff was herded into the conference room.  But, he refrained from exhibiting such unprofessional behavior.

    Samuel slowly made his way through the stench-ridden crowd.  As he looked around he noticed that everyone he knew in the room had been dead for at least two years, some longer than twenty.  And there they were, all together, packed in like a bunch of stinking sardines.  Samuel slipped behind two women, whom he estimated by the power of their stench, to have been with The Corporation for at least fifteen years, to a spot behind his friend Danielle.

    Danielle was in her early twenties and new to The Corporation lifestyle.  She was willing to learn, but per previous conversations with her he knew she had… ultimately, an adversarial view of the policies and procedures employed by The Corporation.  She had yet to be conditioned, reprogrammed, and willing to give up on life.  Samuel closed his eyes and sniffed at her light aroma.  She was so pleasant, like lavender in the hot breeze of August.

    He looked into her bright orbs and a sense of desperation slid through him. He had to warn her, he head to make her realize it was still not too late for her, that she could be resurrected and never have to work for The Corporation again. At that instant he was compelled to save her.  Samuel looked over his shoulder with raised eyebrows and leaned in close to Kerri.  She stunk!  Good God she stunk!  He realized then she was rotten through and through.  She belonged to The Corporation.

    A tap at his shoulder pulled him back to the present.  Samuel turned to his right to see his supervisor, Mark.

    “Hey, I need your whore for two hours tonight,” Mark stated and smiled sarcastically, exposing the tail of a worm slipping into his lower gum.  His eyebrows rose and Samuel understood Mark was not kidding.

    “I’ll call my wife,” Samuel surrendered.  Then he closed his eyes again and began to drown himself in the stenchless aroma of Danielle.

    A burst of applause and cheers pried his eyes open again.  Samuel looked over the top of Danielle’s head to see Steve, the retiree, being led into the room by Dan, the CEO.  Samuel let a single cough burst forth as a putrid aroma swallowed the room. 

    There they stood, in front of the group of slowly rotting corpes, ready to lead them in a glossy heart felt thank you.  Steve and Dan smiled to each other and the other directors and managers who shared the stage behind them.

    Samuel closely watched Steve.  He thought Steve looked awful.  His porcelin white skin looked llke chipped plaster dried tight against his cheek bones.  Deep dark voids occupied his eye sockets.  Thick, red strings drooled from the corner of his mouth into his grey beard.  Samuel watched Steve thank everyone for coming.  Then he told a groaner that had some inside meaning to the rest of the Directors as they laughed heartily.  That was when Steve said it.  Samuel froze and everything slowed down, as if life itself were passing in slow motion.

    “…I mean, when you spend thirty-two years it becomes important.  You guys are important to me.”  Steve shivered while water swelled in his eyes.  “It’s really all about the people,” Steve said as he choked back a tear.  “I love you guys, and I’m gonna miss coming in…”

    Samuel drifted off to his own thought, ”Good God! That knobshine is a real fucking idiot.”  Out of frustration Samuel took a deep pull of air through his nose.  “Christ!” Samuel wondered, “Doesn’t anyone understand?”  The worms suddenly burst through his chest.  The room errupted with laughter and applause as the crowd shifted, causing Danielle to stumble backward into Samuel.  He caught her at the waist as she deliberately ground into him twice.  Samuel leaned forward and gently sniffed the curls of her auburn hair before he whispered, “Are you okay?”

    “Just fine, thanks,” Danielle replied over her shoulder with a wink and a nod.  To be playful, Samuel gently poked each index finger into Danielle’s ribs, forcing her to squeal.

    “Wow!” Dan, the CEO, interrupted.  “I guess they really are gonna miss you Steve!”

    The conference room erupted in a mix of fake laughs, polite laughs, and sarcastic laughs.  After a couple of moments the applause died down and Steve smiled a broad smile.  He still had all of his teeth.  They were chipped and horribly stained brown, a deep brown.  The dark red blood continued to drool into his dirty grey beard.  For a moment  Samuel locked eyes with Steve.  Samuel peered into the dark pits.  He felt a suggestion of urgency… no, it was vacant urgency…more of an acknowledgement, and understanding that he had surrendered the last thirty-two years of his life. 

    “Okay,” Steve concluded, “let’s get this shindig underway!”

    Again applause and laughter rose in volume.  The crowd slowly shifted and Danielle was pressed up against Samuel as she turned to face him.  The worms in his chest squirmed when he felt the gentle warmth of her breasts pressed firmly below his chest.  He mustered every ounce of strength he had to refrain from grabbing her and pulling her her warm, firm body into him.  He could smell the Jasmine in summer.

    “Poor Steve,” Samuel said.

    “What? Why?” Danielle asked.

    Samuel peered into her cold grey eyes.  That was another lovely thing about her, she still had eyes.  They may have been just as grey and cold as any warmth could be, but they were more appealing to look at than the deep voids of nothingness Samuel was used to encountering throughout The Corporation. 

    “The poor bastard never lived.  Now he’s checking in to the socially acceptable death.  But the truth is, he died thrity-two years ago when he was first hired here,” Samuel said in a defiant tone. 

    “Oh, goodness,” Danielle gasped.  “Someone needs to relax a little.”

    A rush of self-consciousness washed over Samuel.  A memory flashed through him of a time when he actually would have blushed red with embarrassment over that joke.

    “I’m okay,” Samuel insisted with a grin and looked off in Steve’s direction.  Samuel knew Steve’s story.  He had a history of strange habits, just like Samuel – up at seven a.m., shower, breakfast, and then off to work.  Bored.  Staganant.  Just waiting until it is time to go home, time for dinner with family.  Later they would gather in the living room for a TV diversion… until bed time.  Lost time.  Lost day.  Closed eyes throughout the night while holding his wife in a rest worn bed, feeling tomorrow’s new wrinkles seep into the skin, feeling weary bones growing brittle, knowing hair goes sour grey.  Only to rise again in the morning – up at seven a.m., shower, breakfast, etc… etc… etc….

    He looked back into Danielle’s eyes.  She was still young and uncorrupt.  She still believed that she could be able to work until she was sixty-five.  She still had the illusion that she will meet  Mister Right and settle down in a story book setting with her husband and children all achieving astonishing success, Samuel knew it wouldn’t work out that way.  He knew she would find Mister Right one day, as long as she didn’t look too hard. But most likeky they would be like everyone else, working forty hours or more a week to live paycheck to paycheck.  Samuel understood he did this to pay the car and the mortgage.  He understood he got his house and car and the bank got his paycheck and The Corporation got his time.  Time – that intangible whore.  Everyone has their time, as limited as it may be.  Everyone has a price for their time and, everyone pimps their time away.

    Danielle smiled warmly at Samuel.  He was then determined to enlighten Danielle into the seemingly safe and secure trappings of settling down and devoting a career to The Corporation.

“Looks like we’re up,” Samuel said and motioned for Danielle to turn and step to her right as the mob of living dead pressed them toward the line for the buffet.  Samuel was surprised to find himself hungry amid the stench of all of the rotting corpses in the room.  As they shuffled closer to the buffet, Samuel leaned in toward Danielle to steal whiffs of jasmine in summer.  Before they reached the buffet an overpowering stench of decay enveloped the area, blocking out other odors.

    Steve and the CEO were seated at a table near the head of the buffet so people could congratulate Steve before loading their plates.  As Samuel drew closer to them, their stench caused the worms to squirm through his chest and kick the back of his throat.

    “Hey Sam!” Steve greeted and stood to shake hands with Samuel.  “Thanks for coming out.”

    “What, are you kidding?” Samuel replied as he slipped his hand from Steve.  Steve’s eyes were black and cold, without life.  Decades of weathering decay hung upon his sallow face.  “Congratulations,” Samuel continued.  He held his breath and leaned in toward Steve and faked a smile.  “I look forward to the day I can retire.”

    “That day will come soon enough,” the CEO interrupted with a glint in his teeth and a smile in his eyes.

The worms churned through Samuel’s chest and he felt them slapping at the bottom of his esophagus, causing a sharp burn.

    “Thank you sir,” Samuel managed with a sour smile.

    “Go ahead and enjoy,” the CEO encouraged casually and shrugged.  “Have fun at these retirement parties.  You’re gonna see a lot more of your fellow fellows get nice and ripe.”  The CEO put his hand on Steve’s shoulder.  “Right Steve?”

    The two of them laughed and Samuel swallowed audibly and nodded.  “Yes sir.  Thank you.”

    Then Samuel stepped quickly behind Danielle.

    “Holy shit,” Danielle teased with a nudge as they began to load their plates with brains, guts, and muscles, “nice in with management, lifer.”

    “Jesus Christ,” Samuel muttered with an air of deparation, “I want nothing of that.”

    Danielle’s eyebrows arched over her round, blue eyes, still beaming with the glimmer of life.  “What’s wrong?  If you’re in, you’re set for life.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”

    Samuel nodded compliantly.  He had been married for fifteen years, he knew how and when to pick battles.  And at this time, with this lovely young woman, he had no desire for battles.  Still, Samuel bobbed his from side-to-side not at all willing to suggest he agreed with her.

    “You know,” Samuel began slowly, “the slogan on the sign in front of the campus is true.”

    “What, that we need to ‘keep the ball rolling’?” Danielle asked with a wrinkled brow.

    Samuel chuckled.  “No, the other one, ‘what we do today determines our tomorrows’.”

    “What are you suggesting?” Danielle asked with a smile of wonder as she led Samuel to a table where they were actually able to find a few chairs’ space away from the others.

    “Well, I really don’t feel comfortable discussing it openly here,” Samuel said in a low voice as he discreetly glanced to his side.  “But, I really feel I need to talk with you.  Can you meet me after work?”  The instant he asked the worms in his chest twisted tight.

    “Yeah,” Danielle smiled warmly.  “Where should we meet?

    Samuel picked up a tender piece of brain on his fork and held it out before his face.  He thought through different places he knew were nearby.  He wanted something that was nice, but also where it would be unlikely they would run into anyone from work.  Samuel could not afford anyone within The Corporation learning of him trying to deter young talent from joining the ranks of the undead.  Suddenly it hit him and a sly smile crossed his face.  “How about the White Horse?” he asked before biting down on his loaded fork.  Samuel took great satisfaction of being able to suggest an upscale restaurant.

      Danielle’s eyes burst into large, round pools, her eyebrows arching high.  She remained silent for a second before she grimaced and shook her head.  “That’s pretty expensive.”

    “Don’t worry about it,” Samuel insisted.  “I’ve got it.”

    Danielle looked at her plate quietly and nodded.  Then she smiled at Samuel and said, “That’ll be nice, thanks.”

    “Don’t mention it,” Samuel said, obviously trying to sound casual as the worms churned in his chest and forced him to quietly gasp.

    Danielle grinned and bit into a mouthful of brain.  Samuel smiled to himself and for a moment remembered what life was like before he came to The Corporation, what life was like before his died.  There was something about Danielle that reminded him of his past, something that made him feel young again.

    “Are you done at six?” Samuel asked.

    “Mmm-hmm.” Danielle confirmed with a single nod.  “And I’ll be glad when the day is done.”

    “Rough one today, huh?”

    Danielle smiled.  “No, not particularly.”

    A sly smile crossed Samuel’s face.  “I just got pegged for overtime, so I’ll be done about then too.  Would you rather meet there or go over together?”

    “I’ve got my car,” Danielle said with a shrug.  “We should probably meet there.”

    Suddenly a familiar stench saturated Samuel’s nostrils.  He shifted in his seat and sat up straight as he looked ahead as if the scene were scripted.  Kerri appeared before him with empty eyes and gaping smile.

    “Hi guys,” Kerri greeted.  “Can I sit here?” she asked and proceeded to sit in the chair before either        Samuel or Danielle could decline her self invitation.  Kerri smiled discreetly to Samuel, a smile that faded when she looked at Danielle.  “I’m not interrupting anything am I?” she asked with a smirk.

    The worms squirmed through Samuel’s chest.  He quietly swallowed any fears he had that The Corporation or his wife might suspect his desire to seek the company of another woman.  This desire had nothing to do with his wife.  Samuel loved and respected his wife.  He had absolutely no reason or desire to hurt her.  Samuel’s main interest in Danielle was trying to prevent her from falling into the trap of working for The Corporation as he had.  He wanted her to live a natural life before years of working for The Corporation had sucked all life from her, like it did from Samuel.

    “No,” Samuel replied to Kerri in a calm, yet overt tone.  “You’re not interrupting anything at all.”

    Danielle’s eyes narrowed at Kerri and then she turned her attention back to her plate.

    “So, anyway,” Samuel continued and turned his attention back to Danielle.  “I bet the door prizes are the left over door prizes from the Christmas party.”

    Danielle smirked as she remained silent by taking a bite.

    “Do you think they’ll have some of those little radios they had at the company picnic?” Kerri asked energetically.

    “Oh, I don’t know,” Samuel replied with eyebrows raised.  “Perhaps, but I would think that they would have given all of those away.”

    “That’s too bad,” Kerri replied in a slightly despondent voice, “those were sweet.”

    A broad smile stretched across Danielle’s face.

    “What?” Kerri asked as a concerned scowl crossed her face when she saw herself as the butt of a discrete joke.

    “Nothing,” Danielle replied and lightly shook her head.

    “Yeah, whatever!” Kerri burst, and then quickly composed herself.  She sneered at Danielle and then grabbed her plate and left the table.

    The worms shifted through Samuel’s chest as he could feel the judgmental eyes of his coworkers bearing down upon him and Danielle.

    “Okay Kerri,” Samuel shouted after her.  “Thanks for stopping by. It was good to catch up with you.”

    Samuel waited a couple of minutes before he glanced around to see if he could notice anyone still watching.  Surprisingly, no one seemed to have noticed.  Historically a scene like that would have sparked fodder for all kinds of innuendo and gossip.  It would have given the department employees hours, or perhaps even days of entertainment to distract them as they toiled away at their jobs.  Then Samuel looked at Danielle to see her smile and giggle with raised eyebrows.

    After lunch Samuel returned to his coffin.  He logged back on to the screen and then picked up the phone.  He dialed.  The phone rang three times before voicemail picked up.

    “Hi Sweetie, it’s me,” Samuel said.  “Hey, I have to put in some overtime.  I know you are working late too.  Anyway, I was thinking we should meet at the White Horse for supper.  I’ll plan to see you there around six-thirty.  Give me a call if this won’t work for you.  Love you Baby.”

    Samuel hung up the phone.  He looked over at his five year anniversary clock to see he only had five and a half more hours to go.  He took a deep breath and sighed longingly before he began tapping at the keys.  He thought about how he stunk more than usual today, as if he had achieved another level of decay.  Samuel hoped it was just the pungent stench of management and “lifers” stuck in his nose.  But the worms in his chest wriggled as a hair floated down from his head to the keyboard.  He paused typing momentarily to blow the grey hair off the keyboard.

    As the hours passed Samuel sat quietly in his coffin and worked diligently despite the fact that he could feel himself slowly rotting as he continued his path of indentured servitude.  It was painful for him, like a steady, gnawing ache at his s.  Certainly, this torture allowed him to pay his mortgage, and gutstudent loans, car payment, etc.  However, Samuel realized the price of these things was more than mere money.  More importantly, it cost time and spirit, or life itself.  Samuel understood this was the way The Corporation was allowed to maintain an adequate work force and control.  The lifestyle of the “American Dream” was bought in a matter of deficit spending.  And he now understood how he had been trapped in the ranks of the undead.

The hours passed as Samuel remained hunched over his keyboard, his fingers deliberately tapping, until finally, it was time to go.  Samuel sighed and stretched. His back and legs were painfully stiff from having sat for so long.  Samuel checked his work queues to find he had more work now than he did at the beginning of the day.  A sigh of resignation burst forth from his lips as the worms squirmed in his chest.  He was suddenly very self conscious of how badly he stunk, a vile, rotten stench he could not simply wash away.  Samuel closed his queues and felt the decay sink deeper into his body.

    Still, there was hope for someone else.  A wave of optimistic determination swelled within him and he quickly began the restart scripts of his screen before he left to meet Danielle at the White Horse.

Samuel strode as quickly as he could, but the pinched nerve in his leg kept him from anything other than an antalgic and awkward gate.  He limped his way down the dimly lit catacombs and climbed the stairs into the natural light filled lobby where management and visitors meet.  Samuel grinned earnestly as he nodded at the security guard on his way out.

    Outside the walls of the catacombs he limped aross the wet and puddled vacated parking lot to his car.  Thick, heavy clouds quickly and silently slid past above him as he put the car in gear and drove off.

Once out of the parking lot Samuel sighed heavily and looked at the time.  He still had ten minutes to get to the White Horse to meet Danielle.  He was not certain exactly what he was going to say to her.  Everything he rehearsed echoed in hollow lecture.  So, Samuel decided he would improvise.

Intermittent drops of rain randomly splashed on the windshield as Samuel slowed to pull into the parking lot of the White Horse.  He found an empty space around the back and parked.  Samuel’s stiff leg prevented him from running to the door, as the thick clouds released sporadic, heavy drops.  He made it inside just before a real shower rained down.

    Samuel stopped inside the door and his eyes adjust to the dim bar light.  He slowly looked around, but did not see Danielle.  Samuel made his way to a pair of vacant overstuffed vinyl bar stools.

“What’ll it be sir?” asked a tall thin man in a white dress shirt and black slacks.

“I’ll have a Maker’s Manhattan, dry, on the rocks,no garnish,” Samuel replied as he ran his fingers through his graying and thinning hair.

    The bartender nodded and silently turned away.

    Samuel looked around the dimly lit bar. Only half of the stools at the bar were occupied by patrons, but the dining area was full.  It usually was at the White Horse.  All the tables and booths were covered in white linen.  All of the chairs were covered in overstuffed black vinyl.  It gave the place a suggestion of formality while serving a casual atmosphere.  The White Horse was known for its surf and turf as well as a quick and courteous staff.

    The bartender gently set Samuel’s cocktail on a white napkin.  “Shall I start a tab, sir?”

    “Yes, please,” Samuel replied as he leaned in toward the bartender.  “And could you please put my name in for a table?”

    “Certainly,” the bartender replied with a blink and a nod.  “What’s the name?”

    “White, Samuel White,” he paused for a moment as the bartender continued to look at him.  “Oh, uh, there will be two of us.”

    “Certainly, Mister White,” the bartender replied as Danielle plopped down in the vacant seat next to Samuel.

    “Hey!” she greeted cheerily as she hung her umbrella from the arm of the barstool.

    “And get the young lady a…” Samuel turned to Danielle with an open palm.

    She hesitated a moment and her eyes opened wide.  “I’ll have a bandy Old Fashioned, sweet.”

    The bartender nodded and walked off.

    “Hey,” Samuel finally replied.  Silence ensued with a palpable yet yielding pressure.  “So, how was your afternoon?”

    “Not much to tell,” Danielle grinned.  “Just more of the same old, same old.”

    Samuel felt a knowing grin stretch across his face as he looked into her stunning, turquoise blue eyes.  Life sparkled and dance through those eyes.  Samuel could see it.  She made him feel young again.  A sudden squirming in his chest reminded him he was nearly twice her age and had so much more life experience and he took a deep breath.  He still remembered when his eyes looked like hers, when he had energy.  Samuel could not allow what happened to him happen to her.  His grin tightened and soured as his jaw clenched.

    “Is that what really want for the rest of your life?” Samuel asked.

    Danielle’s eyes widened with wonder.

    The bartender set Danielle’s cocktail on a white napkin in front of her.

    “Thank you,” Danielle said.

    “You’re welcome,” the bartender replied.  Then he turned to Samuel.  “It’ll be about forty minutes for your table.”

    “Great, thanks,” Samuel said with a discrete wink before he took a deep sip of his cocktail.

    “A table?” Danielle asked with a sly smirk.

    “Yeah, I’m meeting Aurora here for supper,” Samuel replied in a way that felt like a confession of having performed a serious sin.

    “Oh,” Danielle said as the smirk slid to flat affect.  Then a smile stretched across her face and she cleared her throat.  She took a deep sip of her cocktail.  “Mmm,” she nodded and held the glass up before her face.  “Very nice,” she commented as she set her drink back on the napkin.  “So, what did you want to talk to me about?” Danielle asked with large, soft eyes of a snake lying in wait.

Samuel sighed and took a sip of his drink.  He momentarily stared at the ice floating in bourbon.  Samuel slowly returned his glass to its resting place on the napkin and looked deeply into Danielle’s eyes.

    “You know I care about you,” Samuel said cautiously.  “And because of that I want certain things for you.”

    A warm smile slid across Danielle’s face and her eyes swelled moist.

    “And I don’t want you to turn out like me,” Samuel continued.

    “What do you mean?” Danielle’s brow wrinkled and her eyes narrowed.

    “You know,” Samuel explained, “being a slave to the system.”

    Danielle tilted her head slightly and flashed a puzzled expression.

    Samuel took another sip of his drink.  “The system, The Corporation, they’ll suck the life out of you before you have lived.  You’re young and beautiful and you have a world of opportunities.”

    “Everyone does,” Danielle replied before taking another sip of her cocktail.

    “No,” Samuel said with a soft shake of his head.  “Many of us are dead.  We are slaves.  We have debts, mortgages, car loans, student loans, and we owe it all to The Corporation.  We are locked in to working for  The Corporation to pay this off.  We have to follow the path The Corporation has led us down.”

    “Are the drinks okay?” the bartender interrupted.

    “Yeah, they’re great,” Samuel replied.

    “The Corporation allows us to have things that we want,” Danielle countered.  “It provides a means for achieving goals both personally and professionally.”

    “No,” Samuel smirked.  “That’s what they want you to believe.  The truth is they are sly.  They trick you into indentured servitude.  You have no choice but to work for The Corporation to maintain these things, material things.  And then you spend so much time working to pay for these things you cannot even enjoy them.  What they don’t tell you is how it sucks the life from you and if you aren’t careful, you’ll wind up like the rest of us, dying a slow death, rotting from the inside out.”

Samuel paused as Danielle sipped her cocktail.

    “So, you’re saying?” she asked.

    “You’re young and beautiful with your whole life ahead of you.  Don’t get caught up in it like I did.  Get away from The Corporation before it’s too late.”

      “Are you telling me to quit my job?” Danielle asked, exasperated.

Samuel sipped his drink and again stared at the ice floating in chilled bourbon.  “I’m saying you should consider it.”

    Danielle guffed in disbelief.

    “Look,” Samuel continued, “I can’t tell you to quit your job.  But what I’m saying is from experience.  I don’t want you to become a prisoner of the system like I have.”

    “Well, if you’re so unhappy with The Corporation why don’t you leave?” Danielle countered.

    “God knows I’ve tried,” Samuel sighed.  “And I will continue to try.  And hopefully, one day, I will be out from under the shadowy influence of The Corporation.”

    “Yeah, it’s called retirement,” Danielle quipped.

    “And that’s what scares me,” Samuel replied.

    “Retirement?” Danielle asked.

    “No, the fact that I have wasted my life, giving precious hours and years until one day I’m used up like Steve.”

    “Well, it doesn’t seem so bad to me,” Danielle said, “having a home, a steady income, some security.”

    A light and sprite like presence instinctively drew Samuel’s attention from Danielle.  He turned to see a familiar beauty approaching.  She smiled warmly at Samuel.  She was absolutely lovely and Samuel realized he did it all for her, just as another man will die for Danielle.

    “Hey, baby,” Samuel greeted and gave her a kiss.  “How was your day?”

      “Hi hon.  Hi Danielle,” Aurora greeted.  “I had a good day.  How was yours?”

      Samuel took a great sip of his cocktail, sighed and placed the glass meticulously on the napkin.  He smiled at Aurora and shrugged.  “You know same old, same old.”