Apparently The Village has
been going for a very long time, since the war it would seem. The only
question, which war? Well I arrived here a few days ago. They asked me all
kinds of questions, wanting to know all about me. I said they can’t do this to
me, that I have rights. Number 2 asked me who I thought I was, Number 6? I
looked at the badge pinned to the lapel of my blazer, and said “No, apparently
my number is Seven.” Number 2 said there’s no such number in the Village. “Not
my fault” I told her “It’s the number given to me,” she made a note in a book
on her desk. “Just how much do you know” I was asked. I told them I knew hardly
anything at all. “So you’re one of them!” One of whom? “One of those who are
brought here because they know too little!” I hadn’t a clue as to what Number 2
was going on about, but agreed to tell them all that I knew. Well I’ve never
been keen on drugs, and I’ve a very low pain threshold.
So
I began to settle down to a quiet life here in The Village. They gave me a credit
card, card of identity, a health and welfare card, and employment card. I set
myself a daily regime, a walk around The Village twice a day, morning and
afternoon. I would have lunch at the café, and buy a copy of the daily
newspaper The Tally Ho. Being a smoker I asked the chap at the kiosk for twenty
Number Six, he said “Are you trying to be funny?” Alright I told him, twenty
Number 10. He just scowled at me, and served me with 20 Village Woodbines and a
box of Village matches!
Some
days I would play chess, or go for long walks along the beach and play ‘ducks
and drakes,’ or swim in the open lido. And then there was the occasional
Village activity, such as a concert of folk music, or demonstration of mime in
the Recreation Hall. I never considered escape, well there are only so many
ways of attempting escape. I mean take Number 82. He carved himself a dug-out
canoe out of a tree trunk. He paddled out into the middle of the estuary at
night, attempting to escape under the cover of darkness. But the searchlight
crew in the Tower spotted him, The Village Guardian was despatched……there was
no funeral, as you need a body! Well I’m no good at woodwork. I cannot
navigate, or make a homemade compass. I could try for the mountains, but I’m no
mountaineer. I can swim, but not so far. Nor can I pilot a helicopter, but I
can drive, perhaps away along the beach to somewhere. But really I haven’t got
escape in me. I like a quiet life you see, and life here is really preferable
to what it is elsewhere. I was a journalist working on a two-bit rag of a
newspaper and going nowhere. The wife had left me for another woman, and that’s
when life for me hit rock bottom, so I resigned, I went home, woke up, I was
here!
Next
week there is the Exhibition of Arts and Crafts. I’ve seen some of the entries,
they’re not very original, mostly paintings, drawings, and sculptures of Number
2. Me, I’ve painted a landscape of The Village looking at it from the beach,
and entitled it “View From A Villa.”
Eventually
I got a job working on the local newspaper. At least it’s work with which I’m
familiar, even if I am told what to write! But now and again I’m free to write
articles like this one. There’s no harm in it, no propaganda, no
rebelliousness. Well I wouldn’t want to seem unmutual would I now. Not like
that Number 6. It was suggested that I write an article about Number 6,
citizens might find him interesting the editor said. I tried getting an interview
with him, but he just slammed the door in my face. So how am I to write such an
article about a man I know absolutely nothing about I asked the editor? “You’re
a journalist aren’t you? Just make it up as you go along!”
“So
there’s this chap by the name Number Six. He goes about shouting “I am not a
number, I am free man.” He tries to escape at any given opportunity, pokes his
nose in where he can cause the most trouble. Usually he wears a dark blazer
with off-white piping. But one time something curious happened, he started
going about The Village wearing a cream blazer with black piping, what’s more
he was seen to be wearing his Number 6 Penny Farthing badge. Well I tell you
readers, when have you ever seen Number 6 wearing his numbered badge? Just
about never I’d say. Then one day, just as I was passing the Recreation Hall, I
saw not one Number 6, but two! They were having a fight, and the one in the
dark blazer was knocked to the ground. Then The Village Guardian appeared and
herded the both of them away.” I told the editor, he said I must be seeing
double, and what was I making up this rubbish for? I told the editor that I
hadn’t made it up at all. “What two Six’s in the Village” he barked
“Next thing you know you’ll be seeing Lord Lucan here!” Well he has to be some
place, and if not here, then elsewhere!
Be seeing you
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