The Six Against The 6

     Where is No.6? I say again where is No.6? No-one seemed to know where No.6 was. Ah there he is.

    “No.2 wants a word with you” the first guardian said sternly.
    “Why?”
    “Because she does, and that’s reason enough” said the tall well built guardian.
    “Well it’s not good enough for me!”
    The Prisoner was taken away by the guardians and manhandled into the purple walled domed chamber, and bundled into a black leather chair.
    “You wanted a word with me?”
    The black haired woman sat staring at No.6 from the comfort of her chair “I do” she said in a Glaswegian accent.
    “You’re Scottish” he said “we haven’t had a Scottish Number 2 before, we had one who was Welsh.”
    “What is it with you Number 6, refusing to wear, observe, or respond to your number, you refuse to settle down, to take part in anything.”
    “That’s not quite right, I joined in with the local council election to vote in a new Number 2, and I created a piece of abstract sculpture for the Exhibition of arts and crafts, you can’t get more involved than that.”
    “What is it you want Number 6?”
    “For you to release me from the village!”
    “You know that’s not going to happen.”
    “Why not?”
    No.2 rose out of her chair and walked out from behind her desk.
    “You’re not as tall as I imagined” he observed.
    “You know what you are don’t you Number 6.”
    “I feel sure you’re about to tell me.”
    Just at that moment the pair of steel doors slid open and the diminutive butler appeared pushing a trolley down the ramp.
    “Aha! Elevenses as you English say” and she stood watching the butler set out the tea things on the desk, and he poured out two cups of tea, adding milk and sugar to one, and a slice of lemon to the other.
    “Are there biscuits?” No.2 asked.
    “The butler picked up a tea plate, upon which were four digestive biscuits and held it out.
    “Are there no proper biscuits, the ones with cream inside?” No.2 asked.
    The butler looked at the biscuits then placed the plate back on the desk.
    “Oh well if there isn’t there isn’t” she said.
    The butler took his leave and No.2 handed the Prisoner his cup of tea, and quietly sipped her own, helping herself to a biscuit.
    “You were about to tell me what was wrong with me” he said sipping his lemon tea.
    “You’re your own worst enemy” she told him.
    “I suppose it’s my fault I’m here in the village in the first place!”
    “Well isn’t it?”
    “What exactly are you, a psychologist, sent here to analyze me?”
    “If you like” No.2 said finishing her biscuit and talking a sip of tea.
    “Freud would have been better at it.”
    “The trouble with Freud is he put all our troubles down to sex, or the lack of it!”
    Perhaps you would like to go for a walk with me?” No.2 asked.
    “Now why should I want to do that?”
    “It’s a nice day, the sun is shining, the birds singing” No.2 said.
    As she rose out of her black global chair two men in black and white striped jackets and shorts pushed the grey desk out of the way, while another furnished her with a cap, the old school scarf, and shooting stick. She held out her arm and reluctantly No.6 took it, and another man in white took the black leather chair away. No.2 and No.6 went on their stroll around the village. Down the steps of the Green Dome, across the street, down more steps, and along the cobbled path. A game of human chess was taking place, and on another lawn the croquet players played their game.
    “Very pleasant wouldn’t you say?”
    “Perhaps we could stop for an ice cream?”
    “My treat” she said.
    Two ice creams were purchased and they continued their walk.
    “Shall we sit upon a bench and watch the World go by?” 2 suggested.
    “Your world” he said.
    “You created it, and put yourself in it!”
    “What do you mean by that?”
    “You think I don’t know? I’ve heard that voice on the other end of the telephone, yes Number 1, no Number 1, three bags full Number 1, and all the time……..”
    “What, all the time what?”
    “It’s doesn’t matter, let us finish our ice creams and enjoy the afternoon” she told him “shall we take a turn around the Piazza and then back to the Green Dome for afternoon tea.”
    He did finish his ice cream, but during that promenade he felt he was being softened up for something, well whatever it was he’d face it like a man. It certainly couldn’t be any worse than the time No.2………
    “Let us sit down a while” No.2 said.
    The two men in black and white striped jackets and shorts hurried along and placed a table and two chairs in position, and No.2 and No.6 sat down.
    “I thought we were going back to you office for afternoon tea?”
    “Well I thought we might as well have it here at the café.”
    The two men placed tea things on the table.
    “Shall I be mother?” 2 said pouring out the tea.
    “So what is it you want?”
    “It’s not a question of what I want, but what you want. You want to know why, why you? Well I could tell you, but perhaps it would be more to the point if I actually showed you. Finish your tea and we’ll go.
    They stood up and left the café. Back in No.2’s office the two men in black and white striped jackets and shorts appeared once more, putting the grey curved desk in place, and the black global chair behind the desk. No.2 sat down and No.6 stood there waiting in dramatic fashion.
    “Well?
    “You want to know who is responsible for your incarceration in the village. You want to know who put you here. You want to know who Number 1 is. You want, you want, you want, you want, you want to know who Number 1 is then I will show you!”   
    No.2 rose out of the black global chair, on the desk a mirror, she picked it up, walked out from behind her desk and approached No.6 handing him the mirror.
    “You said you wanted to see Number 1.”
    The Prisoner held up the mirror to see his self staring back at him
    “See!” said No.2.
    The face he saw had a grim expression No.6 dropped the mirror it broke to pieces on the floor and collapsed on the floor in the sudden realization that he had done it all to himself, a persecution complex or mania. What’s more he and he alone was responsible for the village, and all that went on within its confines of his subconscious!
    “Take this poor wretch away” No.2 ordered.
    The two men in striped black and white Jackets and shorts picked the man up and manhandled him away and the curtain came down. The cast lined up to take the applause, the curtain was raised and the cast bowed much to the applause of an empty theatre……….as was the stage!

 Be seeing you