Neil A. has been a Doctor Who fan since 1976 and loves the pseudo-science, fantasy, strange twists and time mechanics of the writing of the series. One day he hopes to contribute a script to that series. (Only in Doctor Who could someone be stuck in a reality game doomed to repeat it with slight variations for over 4 billion years!) This story is a re-imagining and regeneration of the 2015 Doctor Who story: Heaven Sent – taking some ideas from Stephen Moffat’s original script, and setting it a few years in the future on Earth.
Tutor Who: Heaven Cent
By Neil A. Hogan
(A tribute to Doctor Who – Heaven Sent)
The bursts of hot and cold water from the shower head shook out a burning fart, as I leaned tiredly against the yellow tiling. Instantly awake and coughing at this olfactory assault, I escaped the glass enclosure above the bath as soon as I could, and dried myself off. Someone must have put milk in my soup. I was not happy about this situation, and very embarrassed.
Being sensitive to anything dairy, I had to be very careful with what I could and couldn’t eat. With even dairy filtered wine, or dairy coated potato chips causing me to have flatulence and bad breath, this was not ideal in my job when I had regular close contact with people. Thankfully, I wasn’t allergic to sushi and sashimi, so I could happily eat Japanese food every day.
Except for Natto!
I hung my towel up, brushed my teeth, and gargled with extra minty mouth wash. I didn’t want my students cancelling because of bad breath. I preferred a morning shower so that I smelled attractive. Presentation was everything in my job.
I looked at my appearance in the mirror, making sure there were no overly hanging eyebrow hairs or escaping nose hairs, and that my shaving hadn’t created any cuts that needed help.
My forehead looked a bit different since the last time I paid it attention. It looked like I had somehow acquired a new line between my eyebrows, from stress. Hair was a bit thinner too, along with some really bad skin. I’d aged a lot since the last time I’d looked. It must have been the Sydney sunlight. It ages you very quickly.
The bathroom looked like it had been cleaned, though I don’t remember doing it.
I don’t remember a lot these days. Not because of old age, but because of my drinking habit.
Being a very emotional person and highly empathic, I’m frequently assailed by other people’s emotions on a minute to minute basis. I’ve found living by myself in the comfort of my own company to be a relief, though the occasional party full of happy people can keep me bouncing for days.
Even so, the memory loss thing was something I used to struggle with, but no longer. Generally, I rarely remember much about the day before, so I would complete my preparations, make my bookings, and leave random notes for myself to remind me the following day of what I needed to do when I woke up.
Working as a private English as a Second Language Tutor was my way of earning a basic living, and writing some blog posts in return for some extra cash was also a hobby. Not to mention the multiple websites, ebooks on online bookshops and anything else I could try my hand at to generate income. Though, whenever I checked my wallet in the morning, I never seemed to have enough.
I exited the bathroom and was surprised to find my suit, shirt and other clothing washed, dried and hanging ready for me. I know I don’t have a maid, so I must have done that the day before. Great! Remembering that I had washed something was definitely not a memory worth keeping.
A nice surprise.
There are so many things we don’t remember. Going to the toilet, washing clothes, farting, kisses, sex, having babies. We might remember the circumstances, some may even remember the logical details, but the emotion of the event, the feelings? Quickly forgotten. I had heard once that giving birth was like taking your top lip and pulling it up and over the back of your skull, though many men have said getting kicked in the balls was worse. Of course, no one can really compare such subjective things. We’ll never know for sure. But the reason we keep doing these things is because we don’t remember. If we clearly remembered every time we washed our clothes or visited the bathroom, I think the human race would be comatose at the thought of having to do it again.
Mornings always have me musing. Running over things, questioning things, trying to remember things, but all in a dreamlike way, as though my mind doesn’t really want to engage with society yet.
I quickly and automatically got dressed, and checked my bag. Everything was there ready for the day. Prepared folders, schedule, change, but no pen. What did I do with my special silver pen? A gift from a Laos girl I knew in high school in the 90s. One of very few possessions that I’ve kept over the years. I went to search for it.
And that is when some more interesting stuff started to happen, though I didn’t realise it at the time.
When I went to the bedroom to search, I found on the bedside table a note in shaky handwriting. It was four uppercase letters. For a moment the writing didn’t register. Then I realised. It was my handwriting. What had I tried to tell myself? The note said ‘BILL’
“I don’t know anyone named ‘Bill’. Is he a new student?” I said to the empty room. “Or is it something to do with a bird?” It certainly had me confused. I picked up the pen that was next to it.
On the floor, thankfully with nothing spilt on the carpet, (especially as I had rented for all my working life, so didn’t want the landlord upset) was an empty bottle of shiraz from Western Australia. Vintage 2033. I picked it up straight away, of course, and looked at it in surprise. Surely, I hadn’t drunk a whole bottle of wine in bed the night before? Had I had people over?
I looked about the room for evidence of anyone else, but there was nothing. Curiouser and curiouser, said Alice.
I took the bottle and headed for the kitchen to discard it in the recycling chute, when the landline rang. Dropping the bottle in surprise, (it didn’t smash, but rolled away) I quickly grabbed the phone.
“Hi. This is Vincent. I’m at the cafe now,” said the voice on the other end, the noise of a coffee grinder in the distance, “Are you on your way? You asked me to call you and remind you, just in case,” He was my current favourite student. Very friendly and understanding. I usually gave him a bit extra time past our 1 hour lessons when I could. That bit of information I remembered!
“Oh, my goodness. I’m so, sorry Vince. I’m actually just leaving now. Running a bit late.”
“It’s okay. We’re not due to start for another ten minutes. Plenty of time!”
I thanked him and hung up, grabbed my pen and bag, and left for the lesson.
Lift, two blocks, Queen Victoria Building, up two flights of stairs, and I was there, a little Japanese cafe cum restaurant run by Koreans called Yama. I sat down, exhausted, and smiled winningly at Vincent.
I was surprised how much that took out of me. I definitely must have been drinking last night.
I wonder how long I’ve been running up the stairs every morning with a hangover?
The lesson was the usual thing. Pronouncing the voiced and voiceless ‘th’ sounds, some work on the difference between ‘a’ sounds and ‘e’ sounds, discussion about some world events, some phrasal verb and idiom work, and more. Vincent was from Shandong province in China and had different pronunciation problems to my other students from Beijing due to the influence of Cantonese on the dialect. He was a faster learner and had really improved a lot since I started teaching him. (According to my notes.)
English as a Second Language lessons were quite easy once you got the hang of them, and you have trained your ear to pick up the nuances in sounds, the position of the tongue, the forcefulness of the air released and other aspects of pronunciation.
Vincent booked again for another lesson, and I made sure to enter it in my diary, note what he’d like to learn next time on the folder cover with a date, and received the cash for the lesson.
A brief break and then my next student arrived. The lesson was similar to Vincent’s, though Rose from Shanghai also wanted to go over her cardiology materials for her medical exam. I helped her with medical pronunciation and we discussed various operation methodologies in regards to ribcage separation and heart sheath protection during surgery. Quite fascinating, really.
Then it was Raj’s turn. He’d been living in Australia for ten years working as a software developer but still needed some help, though he did want some quite intensive pronunciation work. The sounds we put between sounds such as the ‘w’ between o and i sounds when blending two words when speaking. Even so, he really needed to soften those r sounds and make those ‘th’ sounds less like ‘d’ sounds, otherwise he would continue to fail most job interviews. We did interview coaching and I played the role of an IT engineer. It was great to discuss coding with someone.
My next student was writing a psychology thesis on the similarities in brain reactions between Schizophrenia and Tourette Syndrome. Her theory was that sufferers received flashbacks of previous experiences that they didn’t remember, and that Tourette Syndrome sufferers received them in microseconds, while Schizophrenia patients had them for a few seconds. Both experiences would cause a physical reaction.
Rewriting some of her sentences on recent control studies comparing profiling theories was a bit of a challenge, as she was breaking new ground, but I could interpret her meaning. I was very impressed with her work considering it was in English and her native language was Japanese.
It was during that lesson, perhaps because we were discussing the mind, that the thing started to appear.
Sayaka had chosen a table in the hallway which sat next to the circle of bannisters where you could look down and see the three levels below. We were on level 2. There was level 1, ground and lower ground. It was a great view and I liked to be up high as it widened my perceptions.
Though, when the ‘thing’ appeared, I began to wonder how I could escape it from up here.
Initially, it was just a flicker of light on the edge of my vision. I turned to look briefly, while Sayaka was working on rewriting a sentence about expensive research, but there wasn’t anything there. It puzzled me. Perhaps I wasn’t drinking enough water?
But then, a few minutes later, the light appeared again, and I turned, surprised to see a thing. A cowled, hooded thing. Floating just above the hallway on the other side of the oval of railing. It seemed to be slightly flapping pieces of paper, or perhaps the rectangles of paper around it were like its feathers. The face was dark. Around its neck hung what looked to be a pair of black rimmed glasses.
Incredulous at this apparition, I looked down to check my phone to see if Pokémon Go had somehow started broadcasting holograms. When I looked up, it had gone again.
Sayaka had not seen it, but could see that something had disturbed me.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Fragments of my imagination, I suppose,” I said, smiling. “Pieces of me splitting off like melting icebergs. Maybe your thesis is contagious.”
“Noooo,” she laughed. “Though, I do think you saw something.”
“Oh, I think it was a Pokémon,” I said with a forced grin, though I knew she could tell that my eyes weren’t smiling. But she also knew not to press the point. One thing I loved about the Japanese is that they prioritised keeping harmony.
We continued with the thesis, and the apparition didn’t appear again.
After the lesson and Sayaka had left, I counted the money for the day so far. I was very happy as that day I had made $200, less coffee and tea expenses. A decent amount for a tutor. If I could have a day like that every day I could save for a holiday. I’d always wanted to go to Japan.
But, going through the texts and emails I had received during the day, I quickly realised that I couldn’t earn even $1000 that week. A number of cancellations and reschedules had come through. Once again, I would make just enough to survive and maybe put away a little for a holiday. In Sydney in 2030, you really needed to earn $2000 a week just to survive. I would be below poverty level again this week.
This was the bane of all private tutors. Constant last minute cancellations. With the competition so fierce it wasn’t possible to charge a cancellation fee. Potential students would simply go to another tutor and not pay. Many students treated tutors like they treated hairdressers, doctors, or restaurant bookings. It was the nature of the business, and I had resigned myself to this years ago.
Just as I began to plod dejectedly towards the lifts, the apparition appeared again.
This time directly in front of me, just metres away.
In horror, I instantly began backing away. I looked to the left and right for an exit, thinking I would have time, but it just shot directly towards me. The speed made me reflexively duck and I dived under it, which was a bit difficult for a 35-year-old tutor in heavy clothing wearing a backpack, and ran for the lift.
I looked back as I ran and was surprised to see the creature was still looking the other way. Perhaps if it appeared and disappeared a lot, it thought I could do that, too?
It was disoriented, and hadn’t worked out where I had gone.
I got to the lift, and jabbed the call button to open the doors, but the carriage wasn’t there. I leant against the doors, gasping for breath, stroking them, looking in the creature’s direction. Tired from the lessons so far, confused by the surreal situation, I began talking to the lift.
As if I didn’t have enough problems!
“Come on lift,” I whispered. “You and I. We’ve had good times. I’m sure I’ve been up and down in you a lot. Sorry, that it seems like a one night stand. That I take you only when I want you. That we hook up mornings and evenings but its never long term. You’re always going places and it’s hard for me to stick around. But I do appreciate everything you do for me. Please appear now.” I was flirting with a lift! Playing with words to get my mind off the crazy situation.
There was a chime, and the lift arrived.
I breathed a sigh of relief, but I knew I still had to wait. It took this lift a bit of time to open up. It was an old lift with double metal gate doors. The first one began opening and then the second. I saw the back of the apparition begin to turn.
It had heard the chime!
I couldn’t wait any longer. I frantically pushed the opening wider and thrust myself inside, jabbing hard with my finger at the ground level button.
It was then that I realised what I was doing.
Stupid!
Stupid!
The creature floated. It was like a ghost. It could probably fly or pass through things. I had to hope this wasn’t the case. I prayed for the doors to close faster but, they ground slowly towards each other.
I doubt my eyebrows would recover as I had squeezed them so hard together in fear. I’m sure I now had a permanent frown line on my forehead.
The apparition rushed towards the closing doors, and stopped at the inevitable clang of metal against metal. Through the grill of the door I could see the creature’s cowl, and nothing underneath. No face. Just darkness.
It floated outside in the lift vestibule, shifting slightly in the air, back and forth, until much to my deep relief, the lift started going down for me. So, perhaps, the creepy figure couldn’t pass through walls?
The doors opened on the ground floor and I quickly exited, exhausted, and looked up the stairs to see if the ghoul was following. Was it coming?
There was nothing.
As far as I could tell, the creature had disappeared again.
But the questions remained, and spun around in my head.
What did it want?
Did it want me?
Why?
There was something curious that I remembered as I played it back in my mind. The papers that hung off the creature looked like envelopes with stamps. Some had red printing on them, some had green. I couldn’t read what they said through the grill. Perhaps if I could get a closer look?
But not now.
What was going on?
I was too shaken to do anything, so I turned my attention to more logical pursuits, and worked out my budget. I could spend $20 so, after such a trying night. I would skip dinner and get a bottle of wine instead. I had powdered soup at home if my growling stomach became too loud. 183cm tall but only 57kg. Probably not a good combination. I would get drunk quickly. But, after today, I needed something to get my mind off things.
I bought the wine at a local bottle shop around the corner. The guy behind the counter said ‘hello again!’ though I didn’t remember him. I said ‘oh, hello again to you too.’
“Same?”
“Sure!” I said, smiling confidently, but not remembering which one he meant. Apparently, I came here more often than I remembered. The man went over to a large box of shiraz and pulled out a shiraz, vintage 2033.
“We just got another shipment in, just for you!” he said.
“Wow, really? Thank you very much. I guess I’ve drunk a lot of these,” I laughed nervously, not exactly sure what to say to that.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, with a wink. He run it up on the til. $19.99 rounded up to $20. Exactly my budget. I handed over the cash and took the bottle.
“Many thanks. Have a great day!” I said. He said something similar and I left.
$20 for a bottle of wine was quite cheap for the quality. I love shiraz and this was one from McLaren Vale. A thick and juicy drop with a great nose and a delightful terroir finish, according to the tasting notes. I knew I would enjoy it. I wish I had remembered drinking it before, to be sure.
Already forgetting the apparition, I headed home with my wine and after my stomach growled, I stopped in my lounge room for a light dinner of soup. I sat there thoughtfully staring at the sticks of furniture, the tiny kitchen and single bedroom.
I must have been to that bottle shop many times. How many? How many times have I bought the same bottle? How many times have I then sat here eating powdered soup? Asking myself that same question? I couldn’t even remember how long I’d been teaching for. Five years? Ten? It was easy to lose track of time.
I definitely need that holiday.
After my soup I went back to the Queen Victoria Building to a cafe called Cellinis and taught my final student for the day.
She was from Vietnam and had trouble pronouncing the final consonants of words, as well as the usual ‘th’ sounds and extended vowel sounds. I found reading and correcting the pronunciation of the final consonant was working for her so we continued with this kind of repetition by reading aloud an article on CPAs. (She was an accountant.)
As soon as we started talking about money, the apparition appeared again, silently hovering a few metres away, to my right.
Why did it not rush me this time?
Was it honourable? Waiting until I was standing up without the restrictions a table might provide?
Why doesn’t the student see it?
What does it want?
Now, I pride myself in being able to retrieve knowledge, reach conclusions and make decisions with barely any forethought. Answers have always just come. It is probably why my memory isn’t the best. I only remember something when I need to remember it, not a moment before or after. So, when the floating ghoul appeared, covered in envelopes, I calmed myself and got a good look at some of the printing on them.
Disappointingly, they were just squiggly lines. Even this close I couldn’t read the writing, as though it was disguised or just didn’t exist. Perhaps the glasses weren’t glasses either.
I knew then that it could only be a figment of my imagination. Probably something no one else could see. I decided not to let it get to me.
Vivian continued to read the article aloud and it gave me a chance to listen to her pronunciation and watch the apparition at the same time. Each time I corrected her pronunciation of ‘money’ the creature seemed to move a bit closer. Did it want money?
“You seem distracted,” said Vivian.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Sorry, long day.”
She nodded. “You didn’t realise the lesson time has already passed.”
“Oh, really?” I glanced at my mobile. Ten minutes over. “That’s alright. I wanted to make sure you got the pronunciation right. Same time next week?”
She smiled affectionately. “How long have you been teaching for?”
I looked at the apparition, then at the clock hanging in the middle of the building, wanting an answer. I had started teaching in 2020. It was 2035.
“Over 15 years as a teacher,” I said.
She put her hand on my arm. “That’s a long time. I think you might need a break.”
I smiled. Vivian was such a caring person. Married, five kids, accountant for her family business. Her husband was very lucky.
“Yes,” I said. “I plan to save up and go to Tokyo sometime. Maybe next year.”
She took her hand off my arm grinning happily at my decision. “Yes, you should. Here is your cash for today.” She gave it to me in an envelope. “Same time next week?”
I nodded, scheduled the lesson and she left.
As I reached for the envelope on the table, the creature launched itself straight at me from across the hall. The gaping black hole in its head rushing at my face like a maw into a hellish abyss
I leapt out from the chair and backed against the wall, then holding the envelope in front of me, I moved it back and forth. The creature followed it. It wasn’t going to leave until it got it. Had it known Vivian always gave an envelope? Was it an envelope fiend?
There was no escape, and I still had to pay for the tea and coffee that we had during the lesson. I had to get my bag. I…
The creature floated in front of me, its envelope feathers flapping around it, moving closer.
Episode 2
I was trapped against the wall with some crazy apparition bearing down on me and no one else could see it. I threw the envelope at it, reached over and while it was distracted, grabbed my bag from the table and ran to the cafe counter to pay. The creature seemed to sniff the envelope, like a dog. Then, it growled. A blood curdling screeching growl, and made to follow me into the cafe.
I took out the cash that I’d quickly removed from the envelope before throwing it at the creature, and paid for our drinks. I then looked out the door at the creature just hovering there. It hadn’t wanted the envelope. Had it just wanted me? Or did it want money? And why didn’t it come into the cafe?
As only I could see it, it would look very bad if I started talking to it. I didn’t want to be carted off to the funny farm. I wanted to go to Japan. I think the only people seeing me wave the envelope were a couple at a table nearby. The regular cafe staff hadn’t seen me, thank goodness.
I had to be careful.
I looked at where the creature was floating. Exactly two metres away from the nearest person on both sides. It couldn’t get closer than that!
It was time to test that hypothesis. Taking a deep breath, now knowing the creature kept its distance from others, I followed a couple of people out of the cafe and down the stairs to ground level.
The apparition followed behind me. I couldn’t see its reflection in shop windows, further proof that only I could see it.
This distressed me more than I could say. If I was the only one that could see it, then I had some kind of mental problem.
Years ago, I was part of an MRI and MEG control group, for research into mental health issues. The three MRI scans across 6 hours and one MEG scan across an hour did not show anything unusual.
This creature was a figment of my imagination. Perhaps all my drinking had finally caused some damage? DTs? Perhaps it couldn’t harm me.
I had to go about my business.
I followed another group up the street and then another group over to the closed bank where a Smart ATM was located. I joined the queue to deposit my cash. The sooner this was out of my pocket and safe in an account somewhere, the sooner I could get home and rest, unless the creature followed me home. If that happened, I don’t know what I would do.
Just as I reached the front of the queue and the ATM, the creature appeared close by, closer than the two metres. I looked behind me to find that there was no one about.
I was unprotected.
“What do you want?” I said, slightly panicked. “If it’s money you want, you’re not getting it. It’s going into my account. I’m going to Japan with this. After I pay my taxes, of course.”
I grew more confident. The creature just wanted money. But it was in my head. I decided to joke with it.
“Really, you should change your clothes, or something. I really want to see your face. Not seeing your face is scary, you know. Why won’t you show it? You can’t be that ugly? Or are you shy? Maybe a religious belief?”
The creature yowled.
“Well, that’s none of my business, of course.” I looked around. Still no one behind me. “Always be an individual, but if you want to get to know me, you’ve got to let me get to know you too!”
The creature moved closer, doing that creepy waving back and forth. Then it stopped.
The apparition hovered there as though watching.
What did it want?
I turned back to the screen and the system scanned my iris, unlocking my account. Multiple options appeared. Deposit, balance enquiry, but no withdrawal button.
Strange.
I chose deposit, and the flap opened for cash. I deposited most of the cash I had, keeping some for change tomorrow.
The creature continued to watch closely.
The system took the cash, began counting it, then came up with a figure.
I looked at the balance in shock.
What?
And at that point it all came flooding back.
All of it.
Every terrible memory.
I felt weak at the knees, and almost collapsed, shaking.
I turned to the ghoul, floating there. A reminder of my secret.
The printing on its envelopes had become clear. They all said ‘Final Notice’ or ‘Legal Action’ or ‘Overdue.’
I realised the pair of glasses weren’t glasses at all. It was a ‘B’ on its side. ‘B’ for ‘Bill’.
Then I looked at the figure again on the ATM balance.
My nightmare.
Current debt $120,000.
Payment received $180.
Remaining debt $119,820.
Plus recent interest of 17% $179.83.
Total overdue debt $119,999.83.
Immediate payment required.
As all my memories about my indebtedness unlocked, there was a flash, and the apparition was gone.
I couldn’t believe it. How could I forget? Again? As the ATM reset, I leant against the nearby wall and slid down it, covering my face with my hands.
How could I forget? I got into debt 15 years ago and I’ve been paying it off ever since. The rate of return as an English teacher doesn’t outpace the interest rate. I’ve just been paying the interest for 15 years, plus a little bit more when I could. The debt is still there. And even if I was to pay more, it would still take me over decades to pay it off.
I began sobbing against the brickwork.
I remembered it all. Everything. Running to lessons, receiving the cash, seeing the apparition, paying into the ATM.
Every. Single. Day.
How long had I been doing this? How long had I been teaching and paying. Teaching and paying. How could I keep this up?
Forever?
“I can’t do this anymore,” I said. “I just can’t. This is destroying me.”
I got up and stumbled home. I dumped my bag on the floor and took the chair. The pain was too great. I wouldn’t be able to sleep. I couldn’t wake up knowing. If I remembered, I would end it. It would be much easier.
I had to forget.
I poured a glass of wine and prepared for my students the next day. I washed my clothes and poured another glass. I made my bed. I poured another glass and stared at the wall. I would forget again, but perhaps I should leave myself a note. Just enough so that I’m not too shocked. Enough to get me thinking during the day. Not too much that I figure it out straight away.
I drag myself to bed and scribble on a piece of paper. The S doesn’t fit, but I’m sure I’ll remember. I’ll finish the bottle of wine and…
Drunken sleep claims me easily.
*
Shower, clothes, phone call, teach.
“Julian? Oh, hi. Sorry, I’ll be there soon. Just running a bit late. Actually, you said that quite well. When did you learn such excellent English?”
“Martha, you should make up a story for your IELTS speaking test. Don’t take everything so seriously. There is no point in being grown up if you can’t be childish sometimes.”
“Well, Lee, logic, merely enables one to be wrong with authority”
“Su Yeong, courage isn’t just a matter of not being frightened, you know. It’s being afraid and doing what you have to do anyway.”
Wine bought, soup eaten, apparition avoided.
“Over 20 years as a teacher.”
Debt $100,000
Drink, pass out, repeat.
—
Shower, clothes, phone call, teach.
“Now Junichi, answers are easy. It’s asking the right questions which is hard.”
“You see, May Ling, well, there isn’t anything wrong. Well, there isn’t anything important wrong, but I’ve got to check, haven’t I?”
“Amir, you should always do what you’re best at, that’s what I say.”
Wine bought, soup eaten, apparition avoided.
“Oh, Tomu, I’m never sure. I don’t like being sure about things.”
“Over 25 years as a teacher.”
Debt $60,000
Drink, pass out, repeat.
—
Shower, clothes, phone call, teach
“Adriana, you know how it is; you put things off for a day and next thing you know, it’s a hundred years later.”
“Now Diana, a little gratitude wouldn’t irretrievably damage my ego.”
“Well, Serge, every great decision creates ripples, like a huge boulder dropped in a lake.”
“Clara, stories are where memories go when they’re forgotten.”
Wine bought, soup eaten, apparition avoided.
“Over 30 years as a teacher.”
Debt $10,000
Drink, pass out, repeat.
—
I had just turned 50, an auspicious occasion, though at this moment I couldn’t afford a party. Maybe next year. However, a strange apparition had been following me that day and I couldn’t shake it.
My lessons were now quite unique. There weren’t many tutors left that did what I did in the world. With easy translation devices, language pills, brain wave rewrites and the like, it was unusual for tutors to still exist. And so, being one of the few who still did, I was in great demand.
I was also still receiving cash. Even though the world had shifted to a single digital currency years ago, there were still some who had wads of cash available, and not many people wanting to take it. I could charge a bit more too. The increase in the general cost of living had been covered with the increase in my lesson fees. The retro thing was in again, and I rarely had a cancellation.
I still used pens and paper. Also, a unique thing. While everyone was storing their documents in their arms, most disliked the neck or shoulder aches this system gave so pieces of paper directly in front of them gave them a chance to avoid their armlets.
My holovids on pronunciation were accessible everywhere and had been generating additional income, even in the newly created countries in the middle of the area previously known as the PRC. My referrals were coming in thick and fast, and many of my other expenses such as child support payments from a short term marriage, phone bills and other day to day expenses, were being covered by the advertising earned by my informative channel.
Even so, I still hadn’t got to Japan. There never seemed to be enough in my wallet at the end of the day. I can never remember where it all goes. Maybe next year.
I was determined to continue to save. I would put as much cash as possible in my account this evening and I might have enough next year for a holiday.
But, recently, I’d been disturbed by a strange and weird creature that seemed to float around wherever I went. There were holocreatures everywhere, of course. Visual games that people played in the shopping centres. Surprising for some of the oldies like me, but the kids loved being surprised by a purple thing or a blue thing suddenly appearing in front of them.
The ghoul that followed me wasn’t so surprising. It looked quite retro. Almost black and white. Fading away. It was barely visible. When it appeared that day and began following me around, I just ignored it. Probably some kind of spambot. But after realising that no one could see it, I took a greater interest. It had some strange pieces of paper hanging off it. The paper looked folded, like it could hold something inside. I remember something like them years ago, starting with e? It was gone.
The mental holoimage seemed to want to frighten me but I just ignored it. It rushed at me one time and I just swatted it away. Why would this thing appear anyway? Some child playing games, perhaps.
The thing seemed dejected. Weak. Certainly, nothing scary at all. I laughed at it when it tried to follow me into the lift. I stepped aside for it, but it didn’t enter. I don’t know why.
Today I was going to deposit over $500. That was very good for a tutor in 2050. It might get me to Tokyo sooner. Plane tickets were now $20,000 for a round trip. Solar powered planes took longer and so more were in the skies and more entertainment was required to keep the customers entertained. But they were a lot safer than the old-style planes. I could barely remember them. Noisy things.
I went to the cash dispenser. It was the last one in the city but no one was in the queue. I think it was still in use because I used it. I haven’t seen anyone else use it in years.
The creature followed me and floated nearby as the system briefly scanned my brainwaves and I thought a number to it. The cash dispenser opened and I put the cash in.
I turned to the creature. “So, what are you there for, huh? Why are you following me today?”
The transparent creature just floated there, sadly. It seemed to know something.
And then, with a flash, I remembered everything. But, rather than collapse, I’d already grown resigned. It was my lot in life and it would be over soon. Not only that, a piece of hope held me up.
I remembered my debt was almost gone. Could this be the day?
The readout showed the calculations.
Current debt $427.34
Payment received $500.
Remaining debt $-72.66
Plus, recent interest charge of 17% $72.65
Total overdue debt $-0.01
*Correction*
*Recalculation*
Debt paid
Balance in credit 0.01
I looked at the readout. Then I looked at it again. I looked at the creature.
The creature had wilted, and was collapsing in on itself. Rather than a flash, it simply faded away.
I knew I would never see it again.
I stared at the screen.
My debt had been paid.
OH. MY. GOD!
It was paid!
I was debt free!
And, on the screen, I was in credit 1c. A cent from heaven.
It was then the emotion hit. I screamed. I yelled. I laughed. I cried. I couldn’t believe it. 30 years, and it was over. The suffering, the pain, the anguish, the loss of time.
I could start again!
All the worry lines disappeared from my face, and I fell to my knees, my hands clenched together as though in prayer, looking at this cent in positive in the account. It was the first time in over 30 years that I had had a positive balance. I sighed a sigh of loss and grief.
But then, the excitement faded. I felt hollow and empty. The main reason I continued to work was to pay this off. Now that it was paid, what was I going to do?
I would give up drinking. I would eat healthily. I would work on my memoirs. I would save and go to Japan.
I was free.
I then looked at all the homeless people lying in the gutter not far from me, looking at me curiously, and I felt sad, knowing that society had failed them. I had been one of the lucky few to get out of debt. I could now live my life and move forward. But for many of the homeless, in debt but with no way of paying, they would live out their lives without fulfilling their true potential.
This is the sadness of this age.
It was a hollow win as I had wasted over half my life paying a debt. Now my body was much older and visiting Japan no longer had the attraction it used to. But I would still go. As soon as I had enough money saved. Perhaps even this year.
There was a beep from the ATM. I had forgotten it would remain active while it could sense me.
A message had appeared.
Low Rate Credit Card Application Pre-Approved.
Handprint to confirm issue of credit.
Great for holiday expenses.
Just 25% interest per annum.
The anger and resentment immediately welled up in me and, well, of course, I punched the screen several times, until it broke. I had to get medical treatment, and pay a fine for the damage, but it was really, really worth every cent. As soon as I had paid off the fine, I would go to Japan.
Maybe next year.
———
In projection room 13 in satellite 47, a wizened old man deactivated his last monitoring screen and floated over to the exit. His last debtor. Thirty years he’d chased that tutor for payments, and now it was over. His contract was complete. He could retire from his debt collecting job. He could return to Earth and have a bottle of wine and forget everything.
Sending fear images to debtors didn’t have the effect it used to, and the commissions on the debts barely paid his bills, but he never gave up. Monitoring his debtors, sending the wraith, making sure they put money towards their debt.
Every day.
He felt sorry for those in the gutter who had gone mad from the images he sent. Those homeless he had written off against the books years ago. Only the really strong or really forgetful could survive the wraith. But it was his job and he had to put food on the table.
Still, it wasn’t his job now.
He took the shuttle to the waiting space elevator and took the 12-hour trip down in style. Champagne, caviar, lobster, private orchestra piped in live. His last trip. Space had been nice and it was much safer to target debtors from orbit, but retirement awaited.
There wasn’t enough money in the bank for a holiday, but maybe he could get a credit card. He knew how debt collection worked. He could simply declare bankruptcy if he got into difficulty. No need to go through 30 years of debt hell. He couldn’t tell any of his debtors that, of course. How would he pay his bills?
He relaxed into the soft wheelchair and sipped his wine as the elevator began its slow descent, air pressure continuing to equalise while gravity slowly increased.
Yes, no waiting for him. As soon as he’d adjusted to the gravity and could walk again he’d be getting his life back. He’d get that card and enjoy a trip around the world.
He checked his armlet. The final commission had been transferred less taxes and other fees.
He accessed the record and looked at the balance.
He blinked and looked at the balance again.
He couldn’t believe it.
Total payment by debtor $732,000.00 (2020 to 2050)
10% commission $73,200.00
Less state, federal and international taxes, bank transfers, overdue fees, exchange fees, travel, satellite expenses, delay fees, corporation duties, application maintenance, health care fees, credit card payment percentages, contract extension charges, legal document processing fees and other financial duties.
-$73,199.99
Total deposit 0.01
He groaned in disappointment. It had taken too long to get all the debt back, and the maintenance fees had eaten away at his commission.
If he could have removed his armlet he would have thrown the screen at the wall.
He was definitely getting that credit card now.