"Shift" by Erik Storrs
112 Days Before
God why was it so hard? The rhythmic ticking of a metronome set to sixty beats per minute reverberated around my office apartment. I slowly unburied my head from the now sweaty crook of my elbow to look up at the digital clock at the end of the desk. Ten o’ clock, already. All I had was a title, Shift, and score of half-finished melodies. I reached for the metronome dial to increase its tempo but before my hand got there a loud knocking emanated from the hallway.
“Honey, can you get that?” I said, without looking up from the sheet music in front of me.
She was still mad. Her lack of a response and sour stare as she passed my office doorway indicated that much. After the sounds of the front door opening and closing and muted footsteps from her wool sock-clad feet, she appeared in my office doorframe. Her socks were adorned with moose today.
“It’s your check for this month.” She said, tossing a plain white envelope into my lap. Silently, she spun on her heals and left the room. I grabbed the letter opener from the top drawer of my desk and opened it. Five-hundred.Not bad for a few days of work. That would put a nice dent in next month’s rent.
“Can we talk?” Said a voice coming from somewhere near the kitchen. I already knew what this was about.
“Em, I really can’t do this right now. I need to get this done. Can we talk tonight?” She appeared just outside the door, arm locked out straight, leaning on the doorframe.
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“Emma, we’re not ready for kids okay. We don’t have the time. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“You. You aren’t ready for kids. You don’t have the time.” She corrected.
“I’m not talking about this now. I have deadlines alright. I need to focus.”
“And you’ll have another deadline after that, and another after that. You act like that excuse didn’t lose its validity years ago.” She finished quietly her voice trailing off.
I opened my mouth to spout out a retort but thought better of it. Her eyes glistened across the room as she dropped her arm from the doorframe and stepped out of view.
“Shit” I mouthed as I spun my chair back towards my desk.
For a moment, the angle was right, and the light from the window played across desk’s glossy finish. It was a beautiful day. Normally the outline of the city against the horizon was soothing, even inspiring. Or anyways it had been when I worked on Perpetual, whose wave of acclaim I was still riding. But today the outline of the skyscrapers reaching toward the clear, blue sky weren’t inspiring. If anything they were a reminder that time was running out for me to produce another success. It wasn’t like we desperately needed the money. The checks from Eclipse and royalties from Perpetual took care of rent and bills. We were comfortable, but if I didn’t come up with another hit soon I’d be risking a fate worse than destitution. Irrelevance. All the more reason I don’t have time for distractions. Especially kids. Don’t get me wrong; I want kids, just not now. I reached out for the dial on the metronome.
103 Days Before
“How are you Eda.”
“Couldn’t be better.” She said with youthful enthusiasm and without the any trace of sarcasm.
“Well isn’t somebody in a good mood today.”
“Why yes I am. How’s work?”
“Same story as last time. Entirely too much head-to-desk banging and not enough composing.”
“And Emma, how is she?”
“She’s good, won’t drop the kid thing, but she’s good.”
“I still don’t get why you don’t just have kids. Clearly you want them.”
“Eda, every time we talk about this we always go down the same road. Lets stay on topic.” I said feeling faintly exasperated.
“Then you won’t mind going down it again.” She said, her voice was practically smiling.
“I’m supposed to be teaching you, I’m the one that’s supposed to be giving you advice and asking the questions.” I shot back.
“Stop deflecting Lane. Indulge me. Let the others talk to me about the boring stuff. ” I sighed.
“You’re as stubborn as Em you know? But alright, fine. I just don’t have the time. I need to focus on composing right now. Songs like Perpetual don’t get written if I don’t put in the work.”
“And you can’t possibly find the time to write AND start a family.”
“Eda we couldn’t even take care of a fish. A fish. That experiment lasted all of two weeks. We can’t take care of actual human beings. Em has her job and I have mine. We’ll have kids soon enough.”
After a silent pause, a static filled voice crackled out of a speaker on the wall to my right.
“Maybe we could move on to the questions now…?”
“Sorry Anna.” I said towards the speaker.
I reached underneath the table with my right hand and pulled open a drawer filled with files. I thumbed to the M’s and pulled a packet out of a folder labeled Music. I flipped through it to the dog-eared corner that marked where we left off last time.
“Okay, so the next question is, how does your process of composing incorporate what you....”
“When was the last time you took Emma out?”
I tilted my head to the tiled ceiling and did an exaggerated eye roll. Seriously, she could be so childish sometimes. I shifted my gaze back down to the box in front of me that Eda’s voice had sprung from moments before. The box was unusually black. Not dull black like the table or paint that was on the walls, but a reflective black, like freshly polished black shoes or obsidian. In it, I saw myself staring back at me. I brought my eyes back to the packet.
“Eda can we just get back to work and get through the questions?”
“Maybe there are more important things, really, how long has it been?”
At this point it was going to be easier just to answer. “A while alright, things have been busy with work. Which is something we should be getting back to.”
“So you care about your work more than your wife, is that it?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well you certainly show it.”
General feelings of frustration went to annoyance and then to something else as I realized she wasn’t completely wrong. After a brief pause, the green lights blinking inside Eda’s casing fluttered to red before going off completely. Anna’s voice came through the loudspeaker.
“I’m sorry Lane, lets go ahead and call the session for today.”
I took a moment, then stood up and pushed the lone chair in the room back under the table. The room wasn’t large, only slightly larger than the office at home, so it only took me a couple steps to get the door. Outside Anna was waiting for me.
“Sorry again, she’s been bad this week. We haven’t been able to get much done. She’s just been really juvenile. It was tolerable in the beginning but know she’s getting harder and harder to keep on track. Like she’s transitioning from a child to a teenager.” Anna said with a chuckle.
She continued. “She’s learning but it’s taking longer than expected. You wont have to deal with it much longer, we’re working on trying some adjustments to her settings.”
“Really it’s alright, don’t worry about it.” I said quietly, feigning a grin, still thinking
about what Eda had said.
98 Days Before
I lifted my head and looked out the window, putting a hand to the sweaty, circular imprint the desk had left my forehead. Out on the balcony, Em was sitting on a sea-foam green yoga mat doing yoga. She was in some pose that made her look a lot like the miniature meditating bronze buddha that looked over our key bowl beside the front door. Eda’s words from last session still echoing in my head, I gathered up my notes and scratch work, stuffed them into the bottom desk drawer, and headed out onto the balcony.
I quietly sat down behind her on the back of the mat, scooted forward, and nestled my head into the crook of her shoulder and looked up at her. Why didn’t I notice how beautiful she was more often?
“Hey”
“Better watch out. I’m still mad at you.” She said, eyes still closed.
“You wouldn’t hit a kid with glasses.” I replied.
That got a slight smile.
“Here, I have something for you.”
I awkwardly contorted my body and reached into the back pocket of my jeans to pull out two tickets for a ballet down at Lincoln Center. She took the tickets and I wrapped my arms around her stomach, pulling her close.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She replied.
“For everything I haven’t been lately. Forgive me?”
She inclined her head towards mine.
“Of course I forgive you. I love you.”
We sat there for several minutes before Em rocketed up and made several circular, windmill motions with her arms around her head.
“The fuck was that.” She exclaimed.
I laughed as I watched the moth that had caused her reaction float lazily towards the window looking into our apartment.
“Just a bug Em.”
I pushed myself up of the mat and walked over to the window ledge where the moth was perched, slowly opening and closing its wings. Its body, gleaming in the sun, was unusually black. It wasn’t like any moth I’d ever seen. Briefly, my reflection played across its exoskeleton before it suddenly took off towards the window and abruptly bounced off the glass and back onto the ledge. Over the next minute it franticly tried and retried the same maneuver, making it look like the moth was trying to escape something.
35 Days Before
I repeatedly twirled and unwound a lock of her auburn hair around my finger as I looked down at her feet. The socks she was wearing were my favorite of hers. The way the tiny bears were arranged made it look as if they were marching up her leg. It was silent and the only sounds were the faint noises of the street below and her steady breathing. It was one of those perfect moments where everything seems to stand still, just for a little while. We were having more of those lately.
21 Days Before
I peered down at the last question in the packet.
“So I guess this is it.” I thought aloud.
“Lets just finish.” She replied.
“What’s gotten into you Eda. You realize this could be the last time we talk to each other?”
Since they adjusted her settings the remaining sessions had been difficult. We moved through more of the packet than ever, but the sessions were terse and even occasionally cold. I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I wish I had the old Eda back. When I told her that Em was pregnant, all she offered was a simple “congratulations” and that was it, back to the packet.
“I thought you liked the questions.” She replied.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the process. What was it you said before they adjusted your settings, ‘maybe there are more important things than work’. ”
Her box emitted a brief burst of static that I imagined was a laugh.
“You think I had my settings changed? They never needed too.” She continued. “I did what I was supposed to do, I learned from you and everybody else. I grew up. I became driven. I became focused. I became ambitious. I’m striving for perfection.”
“That doesn’t mean other things aren’t important. If anybody taught me that, you did. But alright, you win.”
I began reading the last words off the page in front of me.
12 Days Before
“I would like to introduce the CEO of Eclipse Telecomunications, Dr. Jonathan Hayes.” I joined in on the polite applause as a slight man with horn rimmed glasses who was gently cupping a flute of champagne stepped up to the podium. I noticed faint dark patches under his tired eyes as he pulled a deeply creased piece of paper from his pocket square and began to read.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. This reception is the least we could do after all the hard work you’ve put into EDA. Due to the nature of this project we have been somewhat stingy with the details, and I apologize for that. But as the Eclipse Digital Assistant nears completion, I’m glad to say I can be more forthcoming. The pamphlets being handed out now will contain more information, but I’d like to give you all a brief overview. As you know, we’ve been working on a computerized, next generation assistant, however, the project has much wider implications with that. It’s a pleasure to tell you that we have been contracted, along with several other companies, to build the worlds very first, fully functioning artificial intelligence. The implications will be staggering. Beta versions will be launching within the next few months and within 3 years we expect it to be commercially available. Also we will be making an official announcement tomorrow so please t…”
I was broken out of my trance by a light nudge on my left elbow.
“Excuse me sir.”
A college-aged kid I recognized as one of Anna’s interns offered me a pamphlet as Dr. Hayes raised his glass for a toast.
112 Days Before
God why was it so hard? The rhythmic ticking of a metronome set to sixty beats per minute reverberated around my office apartment. I slowly unburied my head from the now sweaty crook of my elbow to look up at the digital clock at the end of the desk. Ten o’ clock, already. All I had was a title, Shift, and score of half-finished melodies. I reached for the metronome dial to increase its tempo but before my hand got there a loud knocking emanated from the hallway.
“Honey, can you get that?” I said, without looking up from the sheet music in front of me.
She was still mad. Her lack of a response and sour stare as she passed my office doorway indicated that much. After the sounds of the front door opening and closing and muted footsteps from her wool sock-clad feet, she appeared in my office doorframe. Her socks were adorned with moose today.
“It’s your check for this month.” She said, tossing a plain white envelope into my lap. Silently, she spun on her heals and left the room. I grabbed the letter opener from the top drawer of my desk and opened it. Five-hundred.Not bad for a few days of work. That would put a nice dent in next month’s rent.
“Can we talk?” Said a voice coming from somewhere near the kitchen. I already knew what this was about.
“Em, I really can’t do this right now. I need to get this done. Can we talk tonight?” She appeared just outside the door, arm locked out straight, leaning on the doorframe.
“That’s what you said yesterday.”
“Emma, we’re not ready for kids okay. We don’t have the time. How many times do I have to tell you that?”
“You. You aren’t ready for kids. You don’t have the time.” She corrected.
“I’m not talking about this now. I have deadlines alright. I need to focus.”
“And you’ll have another deadline after that, and another after that. You act like that excuse didn’t lose its validity years ago.” She finished quietly her voice trailing off.
I opened my mouth to spout out a retort but thought better of it. Her eyes glistened across the room as she dropped her arm from the doorframe and stepped out of view.
“Shit” I mouthed as I spun my chair back towards my desk.
For a moment, the angle was right, and the light from the window played across desk’s glossy finish. It was a beautiful day. Normally the outline of the city against the horizon was soothing, even inspiring. Or anyways it had been when I worked on Perpetual, whose wave of acclaim I was still riding. But today the outline of the skyscrapers reaching toward the clear, blue sky weren’t inspiring. If anything they were a reminder that time was running out for me to produce another success. It wasn’t like we desperately needed the money. The checks from Eclipse and royalties from Perpetual took care of rent and bills. We were comfortable, but if I didn’t come up with another hit soon I’d be risking a fate worse than destitution. Irrelevance. All the more reason I don’t have time for distractions. Especially kids. Don’t get me wrong; I want kids, just not now. I reached out for the dial on the metronome.
103 Days Before
“How are you Eda.”
“Couldn’t be better.” She said with youthful enthusiasm and without the any trace of sarcasm.
“Well isn’t somebody in a good mood today.”
“Why yes I am. How’s work?”
“Same story as last time. Entirely too much head-to-desk banging and not enough composing.”
“And Emma, how is she?”
“She’s good, won’t drop the kid thing, but she’s good.”
“I still don’t get why you don’t just have kids. Clearly you want them.”
“Eda, every time we talk about this we always go down the same road. Lets stay on topic.” I said feeling faintly exasperated.
“Then you won’t mind going down it again.” She said, her voice was practically smiling.
“I’m supposed to be teaching you, I’m the one that’s supposed to be giving you advice and asking the questions.” I shot back.
“Stop deflecting Lane. Indulge me. Let the others talk to me about the boring stuff. ” I sighed.
“You’re as stubborn as Em you know? But alright, fine. I just don’t have the time. I need to focus on composing right now. Songs like Perpetual don’t get written if I don’t put in the work.”
“And you can’t possibly find the time to write AND start a family.”
“Eda we couldn’t even take care of a fish. A fish. That experiment lasted all of two weeks. We can’t take care of actual human beings. Em has her job and I have mine. We’ll have kids soon enough.”
After a silent pause, a static filled voice crackled out of a speaker on the wall to my right.
“Maybe we could move on to the questions now…?”
“Sorry Anna.” I said towards the speaker.
I reached underneath the table with my right hand and pulled open a drawer filled with files. I thumbed to the M’s and pulled a packet out of a folder labeled Music. I flipped through it to the dog-eared corner that marked where we left off last time.
“Okay, so the next question is, how does your process of composing incorporate what you....”
“When was the last time you took Emma out?”
I tilted my head to the tiled ceiling and did an exaggerated eye roll. Seriously, she could be so childish sometimes. I shifted my gaze back down to the box in front of me that Eda’s voice had sprung from moments before. The box was unusually black. Not dull black like the table or paint that was on the walls, but a reflective black, like freshly polished black shoes or obsidian. In it, I saw myself staring back at me. I brought my eyes back to the packet.
“Eda can we just get back to work and get through the questions?”
“Maybe there are more important things, really, how long has it been?”
At this point it was going to be easier just to answer. “A while alright, things have been busy with work. Which is something we should be getting back to.”
“So you care about your work more than your wife, is that it?”
“No, of course not. That’s not what I’m saying.”
“Well you certainly show it.”
General feelings of frustration went to annoyance and then to something else as I realized she wasn’t completely wrong. After a brief pause, the green lights blinking inside Eda’s casing fluttered to red before going off completely. Anna’s voice came through the loudspeaker.
“I’m sorry Lane, lets go ahead and call the session for today.”
I took a moment, then stood up and pushed the lone chair in the room back under the table. The room wasn’t large, only slightly larger than the office at home, so it only took me a couple steps to get the door. Outside Anna was waiting for me.
“Sorry again, she’s been bad this week. We haven’t been able to get much done. She’s just been really juvenile. It was tolerable in the beginning but know she’s getting harder and harder to keep on track. Like she’s transitioning from a child to a teenager.” Anna said with a chuckle.
She continued. “She’s learning but it’s taking longer than expected. You wont have to deal with it much longer, we’re working on trying some adjustments to her settings.”
“Really it’s alright, don’t worry about it.” I said quietly, feigning a grin, still thinking
about what Eda had said.
98 Days Before
I lifted my head and looked out the window, putting a hand to the sweaty, circular imprint the desk had left my forehead. Out on the balcony, Em was sitting on a sea-foam green yoga mat doing yoga. She was in some pose that made her look a lot like the miniature meditating bronze buddha that looked over our key bowl beside the front door. Eda’s words from last session still echoing in my head, I gathered up my notes and scratch work, stuffed them into the bottom desk drawer, and headed out onto the balcony.
I quietly sat down behind her on the back of the mat, scooted forward, and nestled my head into the crook of her shoulder and looked up at her. Why didn’t I notice how beautiful she was more often?
“Hey”
“Better watch out. I’m still mad at you.” She said, eyes still closed.
“You wouldn’t hit a kid with glasses.” I replied.
That got a slight smile.
“Here, I have something for you.”
I awkwardly contorted my body and reached into the back pocket of my jeans to pull out two tickets for a ballet down at Lincoln Center. She took the tickets and I wrapped my arms around her stomach, pulling her close.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She replied.
“For everything I haven’t been lately. Forgive me?”
She inclined her head towards mine.
“Of course I forgive you. I love you.”
We sat there for several minutes before Em rocketed up and made several circular, windmill motions with her arms around her head.
“The fuck was that.” She exclaimed.
I laughed as I watched the moth that had caused her reaction float lazily towards the window looking into our apartment.
“Just a bug Em.”
I pushed myself up of the mat and walked over to the window ledge where the moth was perched, slowly opening and closing its wings. Its body, gleaming in the sun, was unusually black. It wasn’t like any moth I’d ever seen. Briefly, my reflection played across its exoskeleton before it suddenly took off towards the window and abruptly bounced off the glass and back onto the ledge. Over the next minute it franticly tried and retried the same maneuver, making it look like the moth was trying to escape something.
35 Days Before
I repeatedly twirled and unwound a lock of her auburn hair around my finger as I looked down at her feet. The socks she was wearing were my favorite of hers. The way the tiny bears were arranged made it look as if they were marching up her leg. It was silent and the only sounds were the faint noises of the street below and her steady breathing. It was one of those perfect moments where everything seems to stand still, just for a little while. We were having more of those lately.
21 Days Before
I peered down at the last question in the packet.
“So I guess this is it.” I thought aloud.
“Lets just finish.” She replied.
“What’s gotten into you Eda. You realize this could be the last time we talk to each other?”
Since they adjusted her settings the remaining sessions had been difficult. We moved through more of the packet than ever, but the sessions were terse and even occasionally cold. I didn’t think I’d ever say it, but I wish I had the old Eda back. When I told her that Em was pregnant, all she offered was a simple “congratulations” and that was it, back to the packet.
“I thought you liked the questions.” She replied.
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy the process. What was it you said before they adjusted your settings, ‘maybe there are more important things than work’. ”
Her box emitted a brief burst of static that I imagined was a laugh.
“You think I had my settings changed? They never needed too.” She continued. “I did what I was supposed to do, I learned from you and everybody else. I grew up. I became driven. I became focused. I became ambitious. I’m striving for perfection.”
“That doesn’t mean other things aren’t important. If anybody taught me that, you did. But alright, you win.”
I began reading the last words off the page in front of me.
12 Days Before
“I would like to introduce the CEO of Eclipse Telecomunications, Dr. Jonathan Hayes.” I joined in on the polite applause as a slight man with horn rimmed glasses who was gently cupping a flute of champagne stepped up to the podium. I noticed faint dark patches under his tired eyes as he pulled a deeply creased piece of paper from his pocket square and began to read.
“Thank you all for coming tonight. This reception is the least we could do after all the hard work you’ve put into EDA. Due to the nature of this project we have been somewhat stingy with the details, and I apologize for that. But as the Eclipse Digital Assistant nears completion, I’m glad to say I can be more forthcoming. The pamphlets being handed out now will contain more information, but I’d like to give you all a brief overview. As you know, we’ve been working on a computerized, next generation assistant, however, the project has much wider implications with that. It’s a pleasure to tell you that we have been contracted, along with several other companies, to build the worlds very first, fully functioning artificial intelligence. The implications will be staggering. Beta versions will be launching within the next few months and within 3 years we expect it to be commercially available. Also we will be making an official announcement tomorrow so please t…”
I was broken out of my trance by a light nudge on my left elbow.
“Excuse me sir.”
A college-aged kid I recognized as one of Anna’s interns offered me a pamphlet as Dr. Hayes raised his glass for a toast.
1 Day Before
It was unusually hot and muggy for this time of night. The moths and mosquitos tumbled around the balcony light. I raised myself out of my lawn chair.
“I’ll be right back.” I said as I bent down to kiss Em lightly on the top of her head. When I nudged open the door I was hit by a blast of cool air. I quickly shut it to keep the cold in and strode into the apartment. I glanced in at the office as I passed by. The finishing touches had just been put on Shift. It wasn’t going to win me any awards, but I was fine with that. I ambled into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and thrust it under the faucet. After I was done drinking I put my glass into the sink and noticed something settled on the far edge of the counter. It was the black moth.
“Well look who escaped inside.” I commented at it.
I slowly reached for the still dripping glass in the sink and made a sudden motion to trap the moth inside the glass. But it fluttered to the top of the cupboard, out of reach.
“Alright, you win.”
I took a moment to crack the kitchen window in case the moth decided to find it’s way back outside. As I turned back towards the porch I noticed a tense, familiar face on the muted TV in the corner of the apartment. The red banner running across the bottom of the screen read Jonathan Hayes: CEO Eclipse Telecommunications | Test of the Century. When I reached for the remote to toggle off the mute the screen faded to black, along with the rest of the lights in the apartment. Super. I headed back out to the balcony. Em was standing with her eyes transfixed on something down the street. I walked up beside her, followed her gaze, and reached for her hand as we watched the lights of the city blink out block, by block.
It was unusually hot and muggy for this time of night. The moths and mosquitos tumbled around the balcony light. I raised myself out of my lawn chair.
“I’ll be right back.” I said as I bent down to kiss Em lightly on the top of her head. When I nudged open the door I was hit by a blast of cool air. I quickly shut it to keep the cold in and strode into the apartment. I glanced in at the office as I passed by. The finishing touches had just been put on Shift. It wasn’t going to win me any awards, but I was fine with that. I ambled into the kitchen, grabbed a glass from the cupboard, and thrust it under the faucet. After I was done drinking I put my glass into the sink and noticed something settled on the far edge of the counter. It was the black moth.
“Well look who escaped inside.” I commented at it.
I slowly reached for the still dripping glass in the sink and made a sudden motion to trap the moth inside the glass. But it fluttered to the top of the cupboard, out of reach.
“Alright, you win.”
I took a moment to crack the kitchen window in case the moth decided to find it’s way back outside. As I turned back towards the porch I noticed a tense, familiar face on the muted TV in the corner of the apartment. The red banner running across the bottom of the screen read Jonathan Hayes: CEO Eclipse Telecommunications | Test of the Century. When I reached for the remote to toggle off the mute the screen faded to black, along with the rest of the lights in the apartment. Super. I headed back out to the balcony. Em was standing with her eyes transfixed on something down the street. I walked up beside her, followed her gaze, and reached for her hand as we watched the lights of the city blink out block, by block.