WALLY BLEW
 

The hovering spherical eyespeak glided across a massive,
brightly lit room above hundreds of lavender office cubicles until it
stopped directly above the one occupied by Wallace George. “Mr.
George, you are to proceed to the Department of Behavioral
Assessment and Modification for a civil decorum class.” Wallace
was startled by the sharp voice of the silver eyespeak. He turned
his head so quickly that the straw in his mouth dragged a can of
Fitness Cola right off his desk. “That would be the third time this
month,” he protested.
           “Attitude is everything, Mr. George,” came the rapid response,
in a volume loud enough to attract attention.
           “All right…uh…thank you.  I am looking forward to another
session and I have no doubt that it will make me a better company
employee and a better person.”  Wallace said this with all the
enthusiasm he could sustain on such short notice.
           After a few mildly annoyed looks from coworkers faded back
into the surrounding cubicles, Wallace glanced up to see the
eyespeak already hovering at its monitoring point in the center of
the round room.  Unable to find a napkin, he finally resorted to
removing his disposable tie and using it to wipe up the cola that
had been spilled on the floor.  Although the ties were nice, he
bought them in twelve packs and felt that tidiness was more
important than sparing one.  He had been inspired by a recent civil
decorum class which reminded him of the importance of a tidy
workspace.  He could still remember what he had been told about
the degenerative process of untidiness with its inherent potential
for ruination.  If there was anything Wallace feared more than
ruination he certainly couldn’t put his finger on it.
           The chubby, bright-eyed young man bustled to the floortube
nearest his workspace and stepped in, pressing “85” on the floor
key.
           Already waiting for her next subject, Dr. Dunover ingested a
small pink pill to ease the empty moments of down-time. She had
recently discovered their effectiveness after a moving talk-show
episode described how this Class L mentation modifier had pulled
a psychologist all the way back from the brink of mild anxiety.
           Dr. Dunover called up the profile of her next subject on the
chartscreen only to frown.  “Why do I get these hopeless cases?”
she muttered in a raspy voice, while already beginning to formulate
a strategy for dealing with a young clerk from floor 111. He had
arrived and was about to begin a two-minute screen for areas of
inadequacy.
           Wallace stepped into a very warm room with large video screens
and tiny cameras all around him.  “George, Wallace H.,
identification code 437816834b9Y,” he stated in an artificially
cheerful tone, and then seated himself in the only chair. The
screens came on.  The first image was one of his mother.  Her
coarse features had always embarrassed him. Next, he saw footage
from a nude beach, the faces of famous woman and men, religious
icons, predators killing on arid African plains, human torture, fiery
explosions, wildflowers, Saturn’s rings, a toilette, swirling patterns
of color, a scrap of bread and an empty bowl, and bleached bones,
among many other images.  When the images were finished a door
opened on the far side of the little room and Wallace stepped
through the doorway into the office of Dr. Dunover.
           “It’s good to see you again, Wally,” Dr. Dunover said.  “May I
call you Wally?” she said with and air of cool comfort.
           “Sure,” came the hollow reflex of an answer from Wallace’s
thick lips.
           “Wally, I am reviewing your profile and it looks like we have a
lot of work to do.  I see that your facial muscles betrayed distaste at
image 57 which was, let’s see, the one with the elderly man, right?
Let’s begin with that one.”
           “Well,” he hesitated, “I am trying to be more sensitive to the
preferences of others but that one just bothers me.” It was clear
that Wallace was a little disturbed by what he had seen.
           “Yes, indeed, Wally.  Who are you to force your own
predilections on others?”  Why have you concluded that your own
limited appetite should be applied to the rest of us?” What that
image depicts comes within a choice category declared acceptable
by the National Council on Ethics nearly a decade age. It is now
completely normal, Wally.”
           “This guy is a mess!”  Dr. Dunover thought, as she began to
take notes on Wally.  “I will have to use the twitch on this one,”  she
quickly concluded.  “Wally, you are using your own inhibitions as a
crutch to avoid some much needed change.”
           Dr. Dunover extended the index finger of her right hand,
depressing a small black button on her desk panel. A long white
plastic tube wrapped around from behind Wallace’s chair, ending
inches from his mouth.  “Blow into the tube, Wally.”  Wallace
began to sweat, and he glanced tentatively from side to side with a
frozen grin on his face.  He shrugged his shoulders.  All at once the
grin melted into a single tear.  “Can’t we please skip this part, just
this one time?”
           “No, Ye-Ye-Ye, I mean, Ye-Yes.  I have been noncompliant for a
while,” Wallace confessed, “…but I think I am OK now because I
feel better when I don’t take them.”
           “Wally,” said Dr. Dunover with her eyes closed and the trace of
a smile, “you should know that this is a faulty perception created
by your unwillingness to change.”
           “I know, but it seems so convincing. I think I really feel better
without therapeutics.”
           Dr. Dunover paused for a moment, but the thoughts she was
formulating slipped away quickly and she resumed her line of
reasoning.  “ The chemical processes in the human  brain are not
perfect.  Some say they are faulty in the vast majority of cases
where a person is recommended for mentation therapy. This
therapy helps put things where they belong and gives the kind of
order to your thoughts you could never achieve alone.”
           “It’s all right.  Wally, just blow into the tube.”  Wally blew and
the gauge indicated mentation levels far below therapeutic. Dr.
Dunover checked her chartscreen to see if Wally’s work
performance had declined as a result of probable chemical disarray.
No, the number of completed tasks had actually improved by 22
percent, but this was known to be very common among people
whose need for mentation therapy was identified later in life. It
was called the Rothmann effect and generally thought to be a
rebound process which had been proved unsustainable in a series of
now famous experiments by Dr. Herbert Rothmann, a respected
consultant to the pharmaceutical industry. “Wally, we will work
together to help you bring order back to your life, but you are going
to have to be more compliant.  Wally, you also know that I will have
to submit a pay dock and grade reduction for this, although the
compliance points you earned will take the edge off.”
           “I know, Dr. Dunover, thanks for your help. I almost feel
relieved.  I guess it was a little weird being uncompliant.  At times I
almost felt like the people around me were a bunch of mindless
zombies with no idea of their own.”
           “Wally….”
            “Yes, Dr. Dunover?”
            “Wally, where is your tie?”
 

 
Gregory Pate
MSIII
First Place, Prose