Date: Fri, 4 Oct 1996 07:43:19 MDT From: Robyn Meta Herrington Subject: SUB: CONTEST: And Peace On Earth Another lamb to the slaughter. . . Don't forget, these hard-working authors welcome critiques of their work. Just because the crits aren't posted to the list doesn't mean they're not welcome and wanted! Send 'em to ME: rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca Robyn ---"And Peace On Earth"------------------------------------------------------ Every day I wish I could take it all back. But, it's seems I'm all out of wishes. Picture this, me, a group of my friends, lots of beer and an all-out-hicksville county fair. Bad combination. The friends goaded me into getting a "session" with "Gina the Enchantress". The beer had been flowing well all day and I had been enjoying it immensely. The result? My common sense was sadly lacking and my wallet obviously open. "Sit, my lord, sit." I was told by a woman wearing a peasant blouse cut so low I feared for the safety of the glass globe sitting in front of her. I quickly sat, wanting to appreciate the view magnified just for me. "You have three wishes, yes?" she said. Wow, she really cuts to the chase, I thought. Must be as tired of this silliness as I am -- probably more so. "Yeah, I spose." I responded after swigging some of my warm beer and trying to look thoughtful without drooling. "And they are...?" she asked, cleaning one long nail with another. Okay, if she's gonna be this impatient with me, I won't waste her time, I thought. Let her earn her pay on another rube. "Well, I wanna be rich." I spouted. "Um hum..." was her only reaction. "And I wanna have a long life." "Not eternal life?" I looked up from my gaze into her crystal ball to see that she didn't look surprised, only slightly sarcastic. "Naah. It's overrated." I said. I've seen Highlander. I think I know what it'd be like -- boring. "And your third wish?" Nothing that ould wipe the look of utter boredom off her face came to mind. But, since this was all just a game to get a couple bucks from the local idjits, it really didn't matter. "And peace on earth." I blurted out. Dumb answer. good response. She was a little surprised. More curious I think. "Goodwill toward all?" Okay, my brain drunkenly burbled, enough is enough. "I don't give a damn about goodwill, 'Madame'." I snarled. "Just get me my money, my life and a little peace so I don't have to deal with my idiot neighbors and I'll be happy enough to come back to this dungheap and pay you another five bucks next year." "As you wish, my lord." Gina murmured. She turned away from the table and started dealing what looked like a game of solitaire with a worn stack of tarot cards. It musta been her signal that my session was over. I was going to ask her something about when I'd get my wishes, but was interupted by burly 'assistant' choosing that moment to grunt and glare me out of the tent. And that was it. No fanfare. No awe inspiring magic. No nothing. What a gip, I thought. But, so what. I stumbled away from her tent, met my friends, had a good laugh and got so drunk I coulda made a trip to Mars that day for all I remembered of it the next. Monday it was back to work as usual. Now I don't have a very glamourous job, but it's a good job. I'm a chemical engineer. Mornings I mix perfumes for fragrance companies, afternoons I go to work on chemical concoctions that will get rid of any pest you can think of. What I made that day was what I like to call a dead product -- a bungle, a mistake, something that just doesn't work, but one of my coworkers noticed it had an interesting effect. She took my little vial of odorless, colorless, tasteless (I would guess it was tasteless, but the rabbits we test this stuff never do tell) fluid and plopped a drop on one of our test pets. A female test pet, by the way. It didn't do anything -- that day. When I came in Tuesday the first thing I noticed was every male animal in the lab had their noses and other unmentionable parts straining as hard as they could towards the cage of the bunny that had received the drip. What happened when the dripped animal and a boy bunny got together? They started going at it like, well, like proverbial rabbits. A real love potion. A real money maker. A real way to get rich, if I were the one to sell it and not my money grubbing "oh cool, thanks for making this million dollar product for us and here's a buck for your trouble" company. My coworker never found out what happened to that "unfortunate" rabbit. I told her it had died during the night. It was an uncommon occurance in our lab, so she didn't ask any questions. My love potion sold well. The first fragrance company I went to didn't believe a word I said til I had one of their secretaries try a drop behind her ear. That Friday at the bar she got twenty proposals. The next Monday I got $200,000. And it didn't stop there. Because I believe in share and share alike, I went to five other fragrance companies and sold them the same thing. They all loved it and gave me every thing I asked for. As suddenly as I discovered my wonder perfume it was everywhere. People just couldn't get enough of it. And for every bottle sold I got my little kickback. I was rich. Then the disaster started. People all over the world were getting sick. Nobody knew how, nobody knew why and nobody knew how to cure it. A rash behind the ears or on the wrists or both, then a deep booming cough and suddenly the person was flat on his or her back dying a slow agonizing death suffocating on their own breath. At first it only occured in patches, then the patches spread out and the next thing you knew, it was everywhere. The Center for Disease Control couldn't control it, couldn't cure it and didn't identify it until it was too late. Have you guessed what it was? Yup. It was my little love potion. I suspected it might be the cause from the first couple people who got sick, but I kept my mouth shut. Why didn't I tell them? Would you? I was filthy rich and admitting I was to blame for the plague of the century would only hurt my chances for tomorrow. Besides, _I_ was fine. It couldn't possibly kill _everyone_, could it? The world needed a little culling. Right? Right. Gina had been true to her talent. Only when my third wish came true did I remember her. By then it was too late to go back and ask her to try to undo it. Oh well, she was probably dead by then. Just like half the world was. That prank wish, that stupid STUPID statement made in a moment of foolish drunkeness came true in a way I never ever intended. The riches were great in my time of need. The good health wonderful in the time of sickness. But I'd really love to go back to war than have all this peace. My badly-named multi-million dollar "dead product" killed every living thing on the planet. Everything but the animals, the fish, the birds, the creepy crawly things, the viruses, microbes and all those other little things I tried so hard to kill during my 'career'. are still here. Oh, and me. So here I am, living out my long life wishing I coulda died with the rest of them. Hell, I wish I could die at all. Lord knows I've tried, but it seems that I'm just gonna have to just wait until it's my time. One day after another after another after another. Just me and the bees and the empty supermarkets and the raccoons and the dead powerlines and the buzzards and the rotting corpses. Damn Gina. And damn me too. ================================================================= -- -------+++++++-------+++++++ +++++++-------+++++++------- Robyn Herrington Operations Manager, Microforms Services University of Calgary, MacKimmie Library Ph: (403)220-6903 http://www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca -------+++++++-------+++++++--------------+++++++-------+++++++-------