Harry had a problem. Maybe in the grand scheme of things it wasn't much of a problem, but I could tell it really had a hold on him. Now, I've kept my eye on a lot of people over the years and usually I don't interfere, but this time it got to me.
To say Harry was shy would be like describing a nebula as nothing but a rain cloud. The poor guy couldn't even stand to sit on a bus. So every morning, rain, shine, or whatever, he trekked the twenty blocks to work. And elevators were even worse. Instead, he'd trudge up a dingy stairway to reach his small cubical on the sixth floor and then back down again every night.
For a guy with brains, Harry wasn't very smart. He was stuck programming for a crummy company because he didn't have the guts to interview for anything better. A supposed friend of his parents gave him the job. I say supposed because of how he treated Harry; dogs got better treatment. The rub was that Harry's programs made a lot of money for the company, but did he even get even the littlest taste? Nope!
The poor guy even asked to work from home, but the boss guy just laughed. "I need to see you here," he said. "Can't run the risk of you goofing off." The thing is, I'm sure Harry knew what was going on, but wouldn't, or couldn't, bring himself to do anything about it. A time or two, I heard him tell himself the old tired line about work not being great, but he enjoyed what he was doing. Give me a break.
And his apartment wasn't much better, it was more like a prison than a home. Except for work he never left, ordering everything online, even his groceries. It was just him and Toby. Who's Toby? His cat, the only living being he could speak to without fear.
Toby had been a stray hanging around the apartment complex. No one could get near him, but when he saw Harry, he sauntered right up to him and flopped on the ground. The one thing I can say about Harry is that he doesn't lack kindness. Seeing that poor mangy cat staring up at him with those tired sad eyes was probably more than he could bear.
I've been around long enough to know that if a cat likes you, then you're pretty much all right. He even had a vet come to his apartment to check Toby out. Couldn't have been an easy thing for Harry and he did it for a stray cat. For me that clinched it and I knew I had to help Harry.
It's not like Harry hadn't tried to get help on his own. He knew he had a problem and tried going to a psychiatrist. He could just never bring himself to sit in the waiting room with all those other people. Failing that, he searched online. But all he found were ads for herbal supplements, dating sites, and a few crazy cults.
So, in the end, he gave up. Maybe he wasn't meant to be happy. Plus, his life with Toby didn't seem so bad. They'd sit together on the couch and watch TV until Harry dozed off.
Maybe it was none of my business, but I felt sorry for the guy. More than that, I was angry. Here was this kind-hearted guy who deserved a good life, but because of some quirk in his brain or personality always got the short end of the stick.
Hey, I can relate. I've busted my chops all these years and I'm still right where I started. Here was my chance to take a stand for the little guy. Besides, I'd like to think he'd do the same thing for me.
Now usually we're just supposed to observe. You know protocol and all that. But, for a good cause, I'm willing to bend the rules a bit. Besides, I'm not just helping Harry, but Toby, too.
The only question was how to help Harry. Now, I could have given him a good talking to, I'm quite persuasive after all. Then again, I don't exactly look human, and I'm sure he would've fainted before I could say a word.
It wouldn't be too hard to rewire his brain to fix the problem, but then he wouldn't have been Harry anymore. Couldn't do that to him. Fortunately, I've got some connections, and a guy I know fixed me up with something that would do the trick. The only thing I had to do was get it to Harry.
- - -
One Sunday evening, Harold Whiting sat on his couch watching television, a large grey cat curled up beside him. The cat purred loudly as the man gently rubbed its head. "Don't know why I keep watching this show Toby," grumbled Harold to the cat. "The plots never make sense and the acting stinks."
The cat looked at him with a quizzical look and let out a small "mew". Harold looked down at the cat and smiled. "Well at least the special effects aren't too bad. It almost makes you feel like you're in space."
Harold looked older than your typical twenty-five year old. It might have been the worry lines on his face or the dullness in his eyes that gave that effect. His sandy blonde hair was disheveled, and he sported a scruffy beard. Not one who chose to interact with other people, he didn't give much thought to his appearance.
A loud knock at the door made Harold and the cat jump. Harold cringed slightly and walked over to the door hesitantly. No one ever came to the door. "Who is it?" he called out timidly, but there was no answer. Peering through the peephole he saw no one there.
Opening the door slightly, he stuck his head out and looked both ways down the hall. It was empty. Looking down, he saw a rough looking cardboard box, about the size of a laptop, tied shut with string. That's odd, he thought. The packages are supposed to go to the mail room. Bending down to pick it up, he saw his name written in crude, almost childlike letters. However, instead of Harold, his first name was listed as Harry. No one had ever called him Harry, not even his parents.
A shiver ran up his spine, and for a moment he considered just leaving it in the hallway. However, curiosity got the better of him and he picked it up, surprised at how heavy it was. Bringing it inside, he pushed the door shut with his foot and walked over to the kitchen table.
The commotion caught Toby's attention and he jumped on the table, rubbing his face on the edge of the package and pawing at the string. Untying the string, Harold opened the box and pulled out a black rectangular object that was about four inches thick.
He looked it over, but there were no seams, buttons, or markings of any kind. It was just a solid black metallic rectangle. Putting it down on the table, he wondered if it might be some kind of weird modern art.
At first, he wasn't sure, but Harold now clearly heard a humming sound. Looking around, he was surprised to find it was coming from the object in front of him. The rectangle had yet another surprise in store for him as a cylindrical section near the center slowly began to rise. It was black like the rest of the object and a little less that a hand-width in diameter. Fascinated, Harold leaned forward to watch it while Toby gave a hiss and jumped to the floor. When it had reached six inches in height, the cylinder stopped moving and emitted a sudden flash of light.
Harold felt warm breath on his face and something rough rubbing his forehead. Opening his eyes, he saw Toby sitting on the empty table licking him. "How'd I get over here?" he wondered aloud. "We were on the couch just a minute ago." As the cat continued licking him, Harold laughed. "Okay, enough already. I get the hint, it's time for bed." However, his laughter stopped when he saw sunlight streaming through the windows.
Glancing at the clock, he panicked. It was already eight-thirty. He'd never get to work on time. Being late was his worst nightmare. Whenever it happened, his boss would just sit in Harold's cubical, staring at him, not saying a word. He wished his boss would just yell at him, but Mr. Grossman seemed to enjoy watching his discomfort.
There was no time for breakfast or even a shower. Harold threw on some clean clothes and put down fresh food and water for Toby. Giving him a quick scratch, Harold rushed out the door and to the stairs. He normally stopped at the landing to make sure no one was coming up, but today he rushed down without thinking.
He had the unfortunate luck of nearly colliding with Norman, a large burly man who lived down the hall. While Harold didn't personally know him or any of his other neighbors for that matter, he knew who Norman was. Many times Norman's loud arguments with other neighbors had caused him to duck his head and hurry through the lobby.
"Watch where you're going," growled Norman, roughly pushing past him. Petrified, Harold didn't move until the sound of Norman's heavy footsteps faded. He dashed outside and his heart sank when he that the sidewalk was even more crowded than usual. He briefly considered calling in sick, but knew his boss wouldn't believe him and didn't want to run the risk of being fired.
Finally seeing an opening in the crowd, he waded into the crushing stream of people. Holding his arms close to his side, he did his best to not come into contact with anyone. Nevertheless, he was relentlessly jostled while making his way forward. To Harold, it seemed to take an eternity to reach his office building, but it in reality it was only twenty-five minutes.
Starting up the six flights of stairs, Harold was soon perspiring and breathing heavily. It took another fifteen minutes, but he finally got to his cubical.
His worst fear was realized when he saw the familiar heavyset frame and incomplete head of grey hair of Mr. Grossman sitting in Harold's cubical. "Late again, I see," was all he said, his deep voice oozing displeasure.
"Sorry," stuttered Harold as he sat at his desk and tried to log onto his computer. It took several tries as he couldn't concentrate with his boss sitting there. Try as he might, Harold couldn't pretend his boss wasn't there. The combination of Mr. Grossman's excessive use of cologne and his nasally breathing made his presence inescapable.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
The amount of time that his boss usually sat there varied. Sometimes, it was only five minutes, but other times he remained there half an hour or more. Harold hoped this would be one of the shorter days. It wasn't.
Staring at his computer screen, Harold attempted to work on his program, but accomplished nothing as the strong, musky smell and wheezing of his unwelcome guest assaulted his senses. Typing random commands, he hoped that a display of progress would get his boss to leave. After about thirty-five minutes, he heard a rustling behind him. Looking up, saw his boss standing by his desk.
"You're lucky your parents and I are such good friends," Mr. Grossman commented condescendingly. "Otherwise, I would have fired you a long time ago."
Harold breathed a sigh of relief as his boss stalked away. He'd heard his boss make that comment, or a variation, of it often enough that it shouldn't bother him anymore, but it did.
The day only got worse. Not only had he missed breakfast, but in his rush to get to work he'd forgotten his lunch. Incapable of going down to the cafeteria or even a snack machine for fear of running into other people, Harold's stomach was gurgling loudly by mid-afternoon.
Even worse, his boss came by his cubical several more times to complain about how long Harold was taking on his current project. Each time, Harold meekly nodded and voiced a barely audible "Sorry." The only good thing that happened from Harold's perspective was that his boss didn't insist on him staying late, as he often did.
The walk home was pure terror as once again more people than usual filled the sidewalks. Harold was relentlessly pushed along by the crowd, banged and shoved by all those around him. He stumbled into the lobby of his building and quickly make his way upstairs to his apartment.
Closing the door behind him, he was greeted by an enthusiastic meow as Toby ran over and rubbed against his leg. Reaching down, he scratched Toby behind the ears and was rewarded with a loud continuous purring. Toby's purring made the turmoil of the day's events gently fade away.
Harold and Toby spent the night as they usually did, a quick, although larger than usual, dinner, followed by watching television together on the couch. This night, there were no unexpected interruptions.
The rest of the week brought no improvement to Harold's situation. The walks to and from work were worse than usual. It seemed as if the city was bursting at the seams. Although he wasn't late for work again, Mr. Grossman had shown up at his cubical more than usual, often to dispense crushing comments about Harold's lack of effort. By Friday evening, Harold was exhausted, and after only an hour of television was snoring away on the couch with Toby contently lying by his side.
As usual, the weekend flew by far too quickly for Harold. He spent it watching television, surfing the net, and reading books online. Whatever the activity, Toby was his constant companion. However, Monday morning soon arrived, and with it, the dread that was Harold's weekday companion.
Giving Toby his goodbye scratch and food, Harold closed the door behind him and headed down the hall towards the stairs. He was startled when the stairway door slowly opened and out stepped Norman. He shuttered at the thought of another encounter like last week.
Instinctively, Harold looked away and moved as close to the wall as possible to give the big man ample room to pass. When he didn't hear any footsteps, he looked up and noticed something strange. Norman had also pressed himself against the opposite wall and was creeping slowly down the hall, just like Harold. Sure he was being mocked, Harold headed towards the stairway pretending to ignore Norman.
Reaching the doorway, he slipped inside and scanned the stairway below to make sure no one was coming up. Seeing that it was clear, he hurried down to the lobby and went outside. Although probably not noticed by most people, Harold could tell that the sidewalk was less crowded than usual. He was still jostled on his way to work, but it was less than what he typically experienced.
The day at work was among the best he'd ever had. Not once did Mr. Grossman come by his cubical. In fact, it was the first time since starting to work for him that Harold had been able to program without interruption. He accomplished more that day than he usually did in three. Even the walk home was better as fewer people clogged the sidewalks.
That night Harold celebrated his good day with an extra dessert for himself and treats for Toby. The cat showed his appreciation by hopping into Harold's lap as the two of them watched television together.
Harold's life continued to improve over the next several weeks. The walk to and from work slowly grew much more pleasant as each day there seemed to be fewer people competing for space on the sidewalk. After two weeks, the fear of being crushed was just a memory.
Even better was that Mr. Grossman no longer came by Harold's cubical. He only communicated via e-mail and his usual put downs were now a thing of the past. In fact, the normal din of the office also diminished as each day went by. It wasn't long before Harold didn't even have to worry about going to work as his boss finally allowed him to work from home. Although not sure what was going on, Harold was happy.
All wasn't perfect for Harold however. His usually reliable internet orders for groceries and other items started taking longer to be delivered and often had missing items. When he sent a complaint e-mail, he received a form response indicating that due to an increase in the number of people ordering online and a sudden decrease in delivery personnel, there might be some service issues. However, the company included a coupon and promised to correct the issue as soon as possible.
After another month or so, news broadcasts from throughout the world started reporting on a new phenomenon where people were cutting themselves off from personal contact with other people. Even families had resorted to texting each other from separate rooms. Some scientists thought it was due to a new neurological disorder while others believed it to be a new social movement where people were rebelling against urbanization and globalization. Regardless of the cause, there didn't appear to be any way to stop it. The reports included footage showing that some of the world's largest cities had become virtual ghost towns.
"Guess we were on the forefront of the revolution," laughed Harold while watching the reports and rubbing Toby's belly.
As time passed, even the newscasts changed. Large sets, multiple anchors and live reports were replaced by a single person reading the news from a computer, usually from their home. Interviews were now carried out exclusively via real-time texting with the text appearing onscreen. Not surprisingly, most people turned to the internet to get their news resulting in newscasts, and most other types of live programming, to disappear altogether.
Harold's favorite television shows were affected as well. Many stopped producing new episodes because actors and other individuals involved in the show quit. Fortunately, there were plenty of older shows to stream online. In fact, computer based companies multiplied as more and more people turned to the internet to meet their needs.
With so many new companies needing computer programmers, Harold had the pick of any job he wanted without having to worry about an in-person interview. Because he was a friend of his parents, Harold chose to remain with Mr. Grossman, even after the way he'd treated him. However, Howard did make sure to get a large salary increase. Not because he was greedy, or even resentful, but because the price of everything kept going up.
Nearly every aspect of society, business, and culture changed as more and more people chose to isolate themselves. Talking on the phone was replaced by texting, online chat rooms, and e-mail. Restaurants closed, buses and commuter trains fell into disrepair, and sporting events became a thing of the past. In their place arose new industries as entrepreneurs raced to meet the needs of the voluntarily home bound.
Robotic production and delivery systems were developed to provide and deliver groceries and other goods. Online book sales exploded as people no longer ventured to libraries or bookstores. It took some time, but as it always did, humanity adapted and dealt with the new challenges. Those who had the means were able to live quite comfortably.
Harold had finally found the happy ending he'd never expected to find. He no longer had to worry about venturing outside his apartment as everything he needed was either already there, or could be delivered. Even on the off chance that he did, there were now so few people around, he could easily avoid them. Toby spent his days sleeping contently beside the computer while Harold worked, occasionally pawing at him for attention.
Unfortunately, many were not in the position to experience the same happy ending as Harold. Worse, all the technological advancement and adaption in the world couldn't replace the one human act that required the participation of two people.
- - -
I never figured that making Harry's shyness contagious would get so out of hand. It's that whole geometric progression thing, I guess. How was I supposed to know that the people he infected could also infect others? I just thought that giving the boss man a taste of what Harry was dealing with would help. At least I was right about that part. Even so, it fixed things good for Harry, so I can't complain too much.
Yeah, no way I could hide what happened. My boss is pretty sharp so I had a feeling it wouldn't be long before he figured it out. Probably get demoted to janitor or worse. Don't get me wrong, my boss isn't some hard nose. Sure he may have the personality of a stone and has never actually said my name, but he's always done all right by me.
Most times I like going to my boss' office. It's located in the upscale part of the ship. Guys like me don't get up there often. Lots of windows to see the green and blue planet below, not like where I work. Took my time and enjoyed the view. After all there was no telling when I'll get to see it again.
So I get to my boss' office and he doesn't even look up from the report he's reading. Now, I'm not one to just stand there, so I take a seat and wait. Then, I wait some more. Not that I minded too much, the chair was a lot more comfortable than I'm used to and I had a good view of the planet below. My only knock on the office was that it had no personality, just like my boss. No pictures, plants, or decorations of any kind.
Finally, he looks over at me. "Your observations on what's happening on Earth caused quite a stir back home. There are some who think that you might have had something to do with it."
I might be crazy, but a thought I saw a quick smile cross his face.
"However, I assured them that there was no way you could've had anything to do with it. After checking your records, they agreed."
I didn't know whether to feel insulted or grateful. I've already said I'm not the brightest guy, but I'm not stupid. What surprised me was that he'd cover for me.
"Considering why we're observing Earth," he continued, "I wanted there to be no question that what's happening there is a natural phenomenon."
That's when I understood. It wasn't about me at all.
My people live a long time and have lots of kids. That combination tends to fill up a world pretty quick and mine is bursting at the seams. For centuries we've been looking for suitable worlds to colonize and Earth seemed almost perfect. Perfect except for one thing; it was inhabited.
My world has seen a lot of wars, but we finally smartened up. We don't even have a military anymore. The thing about humans though is that they have a tendency to be self-destructive. So we decided to keep an eye on them, just in case. I wasn't about to mess up a good thing. "No doubt about it, Sir."
"My sentiments exactly," agreed my boss. "However, it's a most unfortunate situation for them since if they won't go near one another, how will they possibly reproduce?" He glanced down at the monitor on his desk. "The scientists estimate that in another eighty to a hundred years they'll be extinct."
"That's too bad," I answered. "Kind of like them."
My boss nodded and gave a slight wave, his way of telling me to go. No goodbye, thanks, or anything, just a wave. Told you he had no personality.
Sure, I feel bad about what I did, but there's nothing I can do about it now. At least Harry finally had the happiness he deserved.
Beside, being a nice guy, I'm sure he'd want the same for me.