New Years Greetings

David

The Therapy Zone

    No.56 walked out of the village, along the quayside and away from the village. He had been instructed that if he walked this way he would eventually come across the Therapy Zone. What he came across, just through some bushes was a cave, nervously he went inside. To his surprise lighted torches and candles illuminated the cave’s interior.    

    “Ah there you are” said a man sitting on a rock at the far end of the cave.

    The man was dressed as a monk in a white robe, a cowl hid his face.

    “Come in then if you’re going to.”

   No.56 walked further into the cave, and standing before the monk asked “Is this the Therapy Zone?”

    “What do you want with the Therapy Zone” snapped the monk “You don’t look to be in the need of therapy!”

    “Number 2 would not be in agreement with you on that score” 56 said “May I ask?”

    “No, no you may not ask.”

    “But I must know.”

    “Know, know what?”

    “Do you make people better?”

    “Better than what?”

    “Just better.”

    “Have you brought me anything?” enquired the monk holding out a hand.

    “What should I have brought you?”

    “A bottle of whisky, looks the same, tastes the same!”

    “I didn’t know I was supposed to” in all innocence.

    “It might not get me drunk, but it helps keep me warm.”

    “Why don’t you light a fire?”

    “Because there is no chimney, the cave fills with smoke whenever I light a fire!”

    “Don’t you have anything to eat?”

    “People bring me food, sometimes hot food. Have you any food?”

    No.56 shook his head then felt the apple in his blazer pocket. He took it out and handed it to the monk.

    “What have you there?”

    “An apple.”

    “Bah! What use is an apple to me?”

    No.56 made to put the apple back into his pocket.

    “Oh well give it to me.”

    “Shan’t!”

    “Shan’t, shan’t what?”

    “Give you the apple if you’re going to be ungracious about it. Besides I might want to eat it myself.”

    “Go away.”

    “Why should I?”

    “Because this is my home.”

    “You live here?”

    “I like solitude.”

    “Why do you choose to live in this cave, and just who are you?”

    “You want to know so much, enlightened you will be. I am Number 1, responsible for both the village and your incarceration here. You are here because I am here. You crave to escape, to be free, but while I am here, here you will remain, until death us do part. What think you of that Number 56?”

    “Let me see your face.”

    The cowled head turned towards him, hands raised they took hold of the cowl and pulled it back uncovering head and face.

    No.56 stood in shock as he gazed upon a face, his own face.

    “This is the Therapy Zone where truth will out. There is nothing wrong in the truth, no shame, there can be nothing wrong in hearing or seeing the truth, but sometimes the truth hurts.”

    “Me, how can you be me?”

    “I might say the same of you. Fancy you allowing yourself to be overpowered so easily.”

    “I was at home asleep!”

    “You’re off your guard then, that’s the trouble.”

    “What are we supposed to do now?”

    “You’re supposed to run off into the distance screaming who am I.”

    “Really, how melodramatic. What about you?”

    “Oh I’m far from alone. There are quite literally dozens and dozens like me, all different people wanting to be Number 1, and unable to pay the price. Everyone looking after Number 1, and not realizing the consequences of that.”

    “What are the consequences?”

    “You’re looking at yours. I’m afraid it’s time to change places.”

    “What, what do you mean?”

    Two sinister looking security guards in dark glasses, grey overalls, white helmets, gloves, boots, and brandishing white truncheons stood menacingly in the cave.

    “It’s time I was released into the village, time I enjoyed the benefits it provides, and the peaceful atmosphere that you have enjoyed for so long. It’s your turn to feel the responsibility of command, once you are ready to leave the Therapy Zone.”

    The two guards approached No.56, it was then that he noticed a robe slung over an arm which was held out for him to take.

Be seeing you

Harmony Posters

    Joaquin Carrillo Murrieta, {1829 – 1853} of Mexican or Chilean nationality, was a semi-legendary figure in California during the Californian Gold Rush of the 1850’s. He was either an infamous bandit, or a Mexican patriot, depending on one’s point of view. The site of Murrieta’s birth is disputed. Either Alamos in the north western state of Sonora, Mexico, or in Quillota. Folklore claims Murrieta, a noble landowner supposedly of Spanish Creole blood, sympathised with the struggle of Native Americans as well as that of the Mexicans and Spanish-Americans he encountered in his residence in 1850’s California.
    May  11^th 1853, Governor of California, John Bigler signed a legislative act creating the ‘California State Ranger,’ led by  Captain Harry Love, a former “Texas Ranger” whose mission it was to arrest the five Joaquins, Botellier, Carrillo, Ocomorenia and Valenzuela, a gang lead by Joaquin Murrieta. A group of Californian Rangers encountered a group of Mexican males near Panoche Pass in San Benito County. A confrontation occurred, and two of the Mexicans who were killed, in July 1853, were Joaquin Murrieta and Manuel “three fingered” Garcia. The Rangers took Garcia’s “three fingered” hand and Joaquin’s head as evidence of their deaths and displayed them in a jar, preserved in brandy. The jar was displayed in Mariposa County, Stockton, and San Francisco, and the exhibition travelled throughout California, where for $1 people could view the remains of the two outlaws. Seventeen people, including a priest, signed affidavits identifying the head as Joaquin. Both Joaquin’s head and the hand of Manuel “three fingers Jack” Garcia were lost in the San Francisco earthquake of 1906. As this exhibition only travelled throughout the State of California, for the above poster to be relevant in the Silver Dollar Saloon, it places the town of Harmony firmly in the State of California.

Be seeing you

tHe pRISonEr

    How long he had been there was difficult to work out, a couple of weeks, perhaps a couple of months he hadn’t been allowed a calendar. They gave him a copy of the local newspaper to read. The first thing he looked for was a date, there wasn’t one. Then he looked for news, of something he could relate to, but it was simply a local newspaper covering local news, trivial stuff mostly.

    They kept asking him questions. They wanted to know all about him, he thinks he told them, he wasn’t sure, all he wanted to do was sleep. But as soon as he fell asleep they woke him up. He tried to turn off the light once, but the switch wouldn’t work. Then they gave him the hot and cold treatment, freezing one minute then it was as though they were roasting him alive. How had he come here? Then they were nice to him. They allowed him water to wash, and shave. Food was provided, and hot coffee they even had someone taste the food and drink the coffee just to prove it wasn’t drugged.   

    How had he come there?

    Then they moved him into what they were pleased to call a home from home, but it was nothing like his home. There were no stairs for one thing, one bedroom, when there should have been three bedrooms, and the bathroom, were on the same ground floor as the lounge and kitchen. They wanted him to settle down, he just wanted out. But No.2 told him there was no out, there was only in. One woman asked him if he could pilot a helicopter, pilot a helicopter? Of course he couldn’t pilot a damned helicopter, besides which the girl hadn’t got one of those electro pass things! But he did try to escape. He tried simply walking away across the estuary, but two guardians in a Mink-Moke brought him back. He tried having himself thrown out with the rubbish, only he was caught hiding in a dustbin! He attempted to escape through the woods, only Post 9 who was disguised as a tree managed to stop him.

    Why was he here, he had committed any crime.

    Then one night they came for him, when he was asleep and off his guard. He woke up in the hospital as someone else, they fed him information on professional and personal matters, they wiped his mind of all unpleasant memories of the village. They conditioned him to be someone else, and then one day he was back in London. Lieutenant Commander Jack Bridgenorth back working in Naval Intelligence………eight long and difficult months during which time he gathered all kinds of secret information. And then one day a hearse parked outside his house, two undertakers alighted. One undid the back of the hearse while the other let himself into the house using a key. After a few minutes a coffin was carried into the house, but when it was carried out it was a good deal heavier than when they carried it in.

    Lieutenant Commander Bridgeworth woke up with a headache, there was a bleeping sound……the telephone. Unsteadily he got to his feet and picked up the receiver of the telephone.

    “Good morning to you. I trust you slept well. Join me for breakfast, Number 2 the Green Dome.

    The Commander was confused, disorientated. He went outside, he saw a man riding a tricycle.

    “Excuse me, can you tell me where I am?”

    “In the village” the man shouted as he peddled passed.

    He saw the Green Dome, he climbed the steps, he approached the front door, pulled on the wrought iron bell pull, somewhere a bell tolled and the front door opened. A diminutive Butler showed him into a huge domed chamber, a man sat in a black spherical chair.

    “Ah there you are my dear fellow welcome back, can I offer you tea, or would you like coffee?”

    “Neither, perhaps you could tell me where I am?”

    “Why Number 24 you’re home in the village, and now you’re going to tell me everything you have learned since taking up your position in Naval Intelligence.”

    “Tell you? I’ll tell you nothing…..the village, where is this place, why am I here……….what did you call me?”

    No.2 sat back in his chair, this was going to be much harder than he imagined!

Be seeing you

Caught On Camera!

    Remember when No.2 and No.14 found that envelope left in the Stone Boat by No.6, and all it contained was four blank sheets of paper. Well those aren’t the only blank sheets of paper to be found in this episode. Apart from a note hand written message by No.6, all this file contains are blank sheets of paper!

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Caught On Camera!

    I can see tins of spaghetti, and pea soup, but what about the tins marked village foods, what might be in those tins do you think? It’s something of a lucky dip when opening one of those cans! But even more interesting, what are those, what look to be, tins of sardines doing there? Perhaps they’re “special imports!”

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Bureau of Visual Records

    I always feel sorry for this Supervisor. All he did was read a personal message to No.6 from No.113 over Village Radio. How was he to know it wasn’t No.6’s birthday, and that No.113 was on old woman in a wheelchair who died a month ago? No.2 himself had to check No.6’s date of birth in his file, and No.113’s death in “Records of Community” file. And for a simple mistake like that, No.2 saw the Supervisor as being involved in a conspiracy against him, and relieved him as Supervisor! However sense was seen, and once this current No.2 had been replaced, No.28 was re-installed to his former position as Supervisor. What’s more the Supervisor is never known by his number, only his title!

Be seeing you