Happiness Afar....
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“So have you thought recently about the end…I mean the real end?” asked the young corporal Jim Jameson as he sat quietly in wait for the next arrival.
“Nope.”, a rather abrupt return crackled from small speakers to the left of the desk
“How’s the weather over there, today?” The latter asked after a long pause.
“Same as everyday…” replied Jameson. “All I see are palm trees and blue waters.” Of course this same conversation had occurred regularly since project “Happiness Afar” began, just over three years ago.
“How is it where you are?” asked Jim.
“As desolate as always.”
The morning routine was ended on schedule as the familiar flickering of multi-colored lights appeared in Jim’s peripheral vision. The corporal walked to the control panel at the far end of the room and readied the system for retrieval of the days’ first visitor.
“Who do we have here?” asked Jim.
“Well, looks like a Mr. and Mrs. Thomas. They are from…” Corporal Timber Vance flipped to the next page of the transcript. “Oh, looks like they’re from right here in town, and last years’ very first volunteers.”
“A couple, huh; that’s a little different”
“Yup.” Responded Tim with no more enthusiasm than Jameson would have expected of his long distance office partner.
With the pad already cleared and prepped by the ground crew Jim stood at the window to watch the landing.
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“Hold on Jim.” Satisfied that the last trip had gone smoothly Corporal Vance walked to the door of the small but neatly arranged office and motioned the next appointment to come in and have a seat. The first part of his responsibilities completed he was obligated by the second to put on his salesman’s smile and pretends to be slightly more entertaining than he knew to be required by Corporal Jameson. He liked Corporal Jameson.
“So, Mr. Wells, I believe?” Without looking directly at the person making themselves comfortable on the adjacent chair, Corporal Vance himself sat behind his desk and reached for the next folder in the volunteer stack.
He never looked at them. He just read the information given and performed his duties.
“Yes Sir.” Replied a short man in a plaid collared shirt and fairly worn looking jeans; about forty-five and looking, aside from plain, nervously eager.
“So why did you decide to volunteer for this trip, Mr. Wells.”
Mr. Wells’ smile wavered slightly. Some unconscious, intuitive force within him had detected Corporal Vance’s true lack of vigor. But, that was to be expected, right? After all a job is a job; even one as fulfilling as this must get repetitive at times.
“Well corporal,” the smile wavered a little further,” I don’t really have much here and the brochures made the trip sound pretty amazing.”
“You do understand that this is a one way ticket, and that the luggage allotment is very small, correct?” Tim still had not looked up from his papers. “Also, that communications are limited. This is a very new and distant place and to the best of my knowledge you will be…” He paused briefly, “…essentially, alone.”
“Yes Sir. As I said, I don’t have a lot. Not a lot to leave and not a lot to take. As far as being alone, I’ve waited my whole life for that. After all it is paradise, isn’t it?” The meek little man shuffled about and continued; “The paper said I would have my own private living quarters surrounded by beautiful tropical scenery, just like in a painting”
Not meaning to, Jim caught himself instantly as his eyes defiantly flickered upwards but it had been too late. In that instance, he noticed; noticed the colors of the man’s clothing, the mess of thinning hair atop his wishfully raised brow. He had not noticed for a long time. At that moment, his own smile became suddenly valid. “Happiness Afar” he thought to himself.
“Yes, It is.”, Jim said. There was a momentary pause as the two men looked upon each others wistful though steady expressions.
“Well, thank you Mr. Wells.” Tim continued to gaze upon this gentle man while handing him his ticket, and verification papers. “I hope the trip is as satisfying as you expect.” The short meager man smiled again and responded with a simple “Yes Sir.” Mr. Wells walked out of the room with Corporal Vance’s eyes watching his slow, undignified gape.
Tim rose from his chair. After picking up the next folder from the pile he walked slowly back to the monitor and communications system on the far wall and paged Corporal Jameson. A few moments later Jim replied in a humorously annoyed tone, “Man, I just got the last one into the bunker! I was getting ready to do some painting.” Continuing in a terrible French accent, “It is my masterpiece! I sent a picture to your computer. Do you think it needs more clouds?” Corporal Vance lazily tucked the folder he had been carrying under his arm and pulled a small compact computer from his pocket. He let his eyes roll across the screen; across the palms and rolling tropical seas. The painting, a child of Jims’ inability to follow orders or do anything constructive was actually very good. So far, it covered one entire section of the right wall of the storage unit and a healthy portion of the next.
“I think it’s beautiful, Jim”
Corporal Vance stepped up to the window of his office. “I’m going to leave early today.” he said watching a pair of seagulls fly past, through the warm firmament and ignoring the flurry of the busy coastal street below. He could hear Jim; cursed by the attention span of a hyperactive gerbil, banging his feet against God-knows-what to shake off the Arctic snow picked up on the sprint back from the warehouse.
“What was that?” he asked, obliviously. “Corporal Vance smiled again and replied, “I said it’s ‘Happiness Afar’”
“Yes, it is!” exclaimed Jim.
Corporal Timber Vance turned down the speakers and walked silently from the room with the top folder from the volunteer files still Tucked beneath his arm and the ticket he had prepared over six months prior, tightly palmed.
“Yes it is.”
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