A Chap in the Company Of Men

By Kenneth Dube

Once upon a time, in a land not too distant and a time not much different, there lived a strange person. Now this wasn't any strange person. You see, he was a peculiar dresser as well as a strange person. He wore a black derby hat, often seen on conservative British big-wigs. To go with his hat, he had perfectly selected a black, conservative business suit; made in England as well. The suit consisted of a black tie, white shirt, black pants, and black shoes. To this he had added a most hard to find pair of white gloves from a small shop that no one really goes to. And as luck had it, at that very store he had also spotted multi-colored socks that only to the unskilled eye would seem to clash with his suit. To top it all off, he walked with a black umbrella which he carried with an air that he copied from only the most well-to-do gentlemen of business.

As well as being a peculiar dresser, his outlook in life was deemed all wrong to an unrefined society, as bad luck would have it. Some had the audacity to say he just didn't suit them or any of their pursuits. He dismissed their accusations, saying they just didn't have any taste.

Well I guess you get the gist of what he is like, so I'll go one step further and give you his name. If you haven't written him off as a heretic or an eccentric nobody by now, then you'll probably decide to learn more about him. But please clear your mind of any premature judgments that you've made of him. He's always disliked premature judgers. "Too many in the world," he once said. "And their wigs are so gaudy. How can anyone who dresses so out of sorts make any sane judgment at all?"

Chapman, as he was known by people he deemed agreeable or even some that weren't, but he had no choice in the matter, lived a decent life. He drank of the finest ales, the finest wines, and the finest coffees. His apartment was much like others' except his showed some artistic taste. He was single, a happy bachelor who allowed different women to accompany him now and then. He believed his was a romantic lifestyle to be envied by all.

Well one day Chapman, as he allows you to know him as, woke up to a world very different and most offensive. He knew it as soon as his eyes opened to the morning's call, that things were amiss. He didn't know what or why, but his perceptions of which he was highly proud, danced a silhouette in his brain.

Chapman slouched out of bed and took his daily shower, sparking life to his consciousness. While sitting under a blower waiting for his suit to dry, he thought about the events he would engage in during the day and out of futility thought back through the past days' events for a clue of that which bothered him. The question mark gnawed at his brain while he injected his caffeine and protein with cup and fork, his pinkies out of course for good taste.

He took medicine to slow the hunger of the question mark and walked to work through the herd, half dazed by both the invader and the antidote. Well if you're curious as to what happened, imagine how he felt. He thought he was going to lose it and mumble on like some of the insane he has had to walk behind. These people he passed as soon as he had the chance. He caught himself in mid-vowel, fortunately. 'Ah, the horror,' he thought.

His eyes focused only two feet ahead of him, for the problem needed all of his attention. Upon reaching the address of his job, which he knew by the type of concrete and the volume of cracks, he turned left to climb the stairs.

Unfortunately, there were no stairs and Chapman fell face first into the answer he had been seeking, at great relief to his brain. As fate would have it, pavement had attached to his face, giving him even more discomfort. Gaining his wits, he detached himself from the pavement and studied his surroundings. After gaining his composure, for it is most difficult to do anything when out of sorts in front of a crowd of people--they always like to stare you know--something became most obvious to him. The building he had worked in for ten years, as of last September, was not to be seen.

"It's gone, disappeared, vanished," he said sadly. "Who would kidnap a building? Or did it leave on it's own?"

Chapman could sense people around him staring and thought it best to stop talking to himself. As he turned to angrily justify his sanity to those around him, something made him freeze open-mouthed just as he was about to speak his mind. His eyes moved here and there while the rest of him simply would not move. 'Shocking,' he thought.

To his surprise, there were subtle peculiarities all around him. All the other buildings had disappeared as well. Some crowds stood in front of where buildings once stood and mumbled to each other with confused expressions. Others had actually fallen into the vacant lots as he had, only now bodies had stacked one on top of one another. As well as shocking him, this offended him as well. 'They must be breaking a safety code of some sort piling on as they are,' he thought.

Main Street had become nothing more than a main street. It was nothing but a vast black expanse. He remembered being warned about those before. 'Or was that something about funeral costs?' he thought. He became so confused in stressful situations such as this. Bringing his attention back to his former occupancy of his occupation, he noticed that what was occurring elsewhere was now occurring in front of him as well. It was a good thing that he was always prompt and early to work or else he may have been caught in the pile that had accumulated before him. The thought of all those people being in physical contact with others who weren't even fellow employees anymore, made him sick. He immediately dashed home, his umbrella pointing the way and pointing others out of the way.

When he was within the safety of his apartment, he dialed a direct line to the Better Business Department. 'I'm going to get to the bottom of this,' he thought.

"Department of Better Business," came a voice over the phone.

"I wish to make a complaint," he said, paused and then continued.

"It seems that my company has moved off without me."

"Just a minute sir, I'll connect you to the complaints department"

Click.

"Department of Complaints."

"Hello good sir. It seems that my company has moved off without me."

"You want the Department of Assurance, sir.""

"Oh, sorry. Thank.."

Click.

Dial.

"Assurance Department.""

"I wish to make a complaint..."

"One moment."

Click.

"Customer service."

"Hello mam. It seems that my company has moved off without me."

"What do you mean."

"Well, I went to enter the building I worked at and it was gone."

"I can't do anything about that. Let me switch you to Lost and Found."

Click.

"Supplies."

"Hello, it seems my company has moved off without me."

"This is supplies, mack. Did you lose something that you owned?"

"Why no. I simply worked there. It was kind of a mutual relationship."

"I think you want the Personnel Department, then."

"No. you don't understand. My work place that I have been going to for ten years as of last September wasn't there this morning when I went to enter it. It simply vanished."

"Oh. Why didn't you say so! You've got the wrong department. You should be talking to the Department of Labor. You're unemployed mack. Your company moved away. The government must have put in a call for a new booming town. It's a simple case of the draft. Your company was drafted to a new location. Part of the Jobs For All Program in effect. If you want more information on that, you'll have to call the Draft Board. If I were you though, I would stay out of matters that don't concern you. Just call the department of labor and stay out of everyone's hair. Good day!"

Click.

It would seem that Chapman had fallen into the cracks of society. It had finally done him and his superior lifestyle in. He had not thought such an anti-renaissance coup possible. "I knew I should have claimed all those investment tips from business acquaintances on my taxes. How could I have been so blind. The government. They were the last that I would have suspected to be against me."

After a considerable amount of thought, Chapman put his new plan into action. 'They can try to stop a man with good taste, but they'll never lick him,' he thought.

Dial.

"Department of Unemployment."

"Is this the Labor Department"

"Yes sir. We are known under both titles, depending what state the economy is in."

"Well my company has disappeared and I want to get it back."

"You'll have to come down and I'll be glad to get you started."

"Thank You very..."

Click.

Things were finally going his way, he thought. He didn't like to over exert himself, bad for his nerves, but when he made it a point to be a man of action, by gosh, no one and nothing was going to stop him. Things were going just as planned. He gathered up his last pay stub, a picture of his missing place of work, and a certificate he had received for perfect attendance. As he made his way down to the Labor Department with his umbrella leading the way in one hand and briefcase steadying his rhythmic movements in the other, he could not help but feel disdain for the poor slobs still standing around the empty lots on Main Street. He knew that they would slowly fade away into the wind. 'You sometimes have to be a man of action to stand your ground,' he thought.

When Chapman reached the Labor Department, where a statue of a man digging with a shovel stood in front for which he felt discomfort because he didn't like to be seen entering buildings with such filthy symbols, he took a deep breath of courage and opened the door.

"Good God!" he exclaimed in horror.

Evidently a good many others had eavesdropped and stolen his idea, beating him there, for there were literally hundreds standing before him in lines. Once again a blow had been dealt to him by the powers that be. But he was a determined chap. He would not let one battle determine the outcome of the war. Chapman decided to hold his ground and slowly make headway past the enemy lines, even if it meant missing lunch.

The enemy tried its best to throw him off and break his concentration. The people in line around him would throw him disarming glances here and there. Fortunately the weight of his umbrella and briefcase steadied his resolve. Some tried to set him off course by trying to discuss their own plight, but he would have none of that. He had learned long ago, with a keen eye, how to avoid an issue from his higher-ups. He knew that a skill like that would come in handy for such an occasion.

After nearly losing consciousness twice, Chapman reached the front of the enemy line. "Now see here good sir!" he exclaimed in the most official voice he could muster. "I am trying to locate..."
"Name," said the clerk in a nasal voice.

"What?" Chapman asked confused. 'What is this person up to?' he thought.

"Your name. What is it?"

"Why it's Chapman. Here's a picture of the building I am trying to locate.

"Is that with an e or an a?"

"Is what?"

"Your name sir."

Chapman looked down at what the clerk was filling out and remembered that in order for a battle to be a true victory, that it would have to be recorded so that others could learn from it. After spelling his full name for the clerk, he continued with his well thought out speech, since of course he had so much time to come up with one in line.

"I am most justified in locating the building..."

"Address?"

"Well it was at 99 Main Street but you should have the current address of course.

"Your home address sir."

After going through this scenario for most of five minutes, they finally got down to business. Chapman was relieved and knew he did his part in filing all that historical paper work for the next generation's sake. Chapman could get on with his plan once again.

"Now good sir, be so kind as to help me locate my place of work. Here is a picture of what it looked like. This pay stub and attendance certificate verify my good standing with the company."

"I'm sorry Chapman, but you no longer have a job as of today. Neither do any of those other people behind you. All of the companies on Main Street are gone. We'll be able to pay you one-third of what you were making until you are able to find work somewhere else."

'A bribe to give up the fight,' Chapman thought. "I don't want to work somewhere else, I want to work for my company. I've been there ten years as of last September. Now you look like a sensible man. Why don't you be an agreeable sort, tell me where my company is, and I'll cause you no more trouble. How about it?"

"Here's your copy. You'll be receiving a check in the mail every Friday until you become gainfully employed. Next!"

A temporary defeat, but a costly one for Chapman. He gathered all his dignity and daintily placed the copy, the picture of his company, the pay stub, and the certificate of perfect attendance into his his briefcase. He did not give up. He figured he would show up again and again, until the enemy surrendered. "Ta ta for now," he said snobbishly as he walked away from the counter.

Walking home, he thought up a new plan of attack. Once again he focused only two feet in front of him, with his umbrella leading the way and occasionally poking someone off the sidewalk and face first into a vacant lot. He wouldn't give up until he had won the fight. 'Victory is in the fist of the one who clenches it,' he thought. 'There is nothing stronger than the will of man. One for all and all for one. You can't keep a good man down.' "Smoke them if you've got them. Turn out that light. The war of all wars!"

Upon reaching the piece of sidewalk in front of his apartment, he took a right to go up the stairs. Once again the pavement latched onto his face. You see, because the companies had left the area, the land lords decided it would be in there best interest to move the apartment buildings to a boom town as well.

"Great Scott!" Chapman yelled into the pavement. "A mutiny is afoot. This means war!"

THE END